Being as we're living in Florida by ourselves, we weren't exactly sure how the whole 'family coming down' dynamic was actually going to pan out. I had been having real contractions for quite some time- a week to be exact- but still no baby. On my "Due Date" my mom flew down in the early evening. We spent the whole night catching up and before we knew it- it was 2am! The next day my mom was determined to get my mind off of things while trying to induce some labor! We spent the day walking the mall and pretty much walking wherever we could. We walked baby walked! Still- no real strong contractions. The hubs, mom and I had an absolutely FABULOUS filet mignon dinner that night! We were joking that this was my 'Last Supper' before the baby and that I should enjoy it! However- all joking aside- I started to feel some serious contractions during dinner. We started timing them and they were a whopping 10 minutes apart. "SHEESH!" I thought, "At this rate I'll have the baby by NEXT week!" Not too long after dinner my hubby hit the hay (He just so happened to be on a KILLER rotation this month that called for him to be in the hospital really early in the morning). I stayed up with my mama chit chatting and grunting through some serious contractions. "They're coming a lot closer." she said, "You're at about 5-6 minutes apart". She was right! I was seriously progressing! "This is it," I thought "I'm having this baby in the morning!" My mom decided to get some shut eye seeing as we'd probably be in the hospital in a few hours. I decided to try and do the same thing... yeah right... I was rolling around in bed while telling my sleeping husband that I thought I needed to go to the hospital. "How far apart are they?" he asked. "Just about 3-4 minutes."
I think he was in complete shock seeing as they were still at 10 minutes apart when he went to bed. We called the doctor and were at the hospital by 6am.
When I got to the hospital they hooked me up to the monitors and examined me. I was only 3cm dilated and the contractions weren't impressive. "You've got to be kidding me," I thought "I am NOT leaving the hospital without my baby in my arms!" The doctor came in and suggested that I walk the halls for a couple of hours to see if I would progress. We were off! You would've thought that I was competing for some kind of trophy (well, I guess I was!)... I was doing laps like a champ! I stopped every so often to breathe through the tough contractions but for 2 hours I walked. I went back to my little room praying that I would have progressed. When the doctor and nurse came back into the room I was just about in tears anticipating the results. "Well- you're 4 cm dilated which means we have to admit you because you're in labor!" I could have peed my pants- no really- I could have peed my pants I was so excited!!
Between asking me questions, starting my IV and switching rooms about 1.5 to 2 hours had gone by. It was almost 10am and the doctor decided to come in and check me again now that I was situated in my delivery room. "Well, you're 7cm!" My heart began to race! I couldn't believe how much I progressed in such a short amount of time! I was feeling pretty good and not in too much pain so I asked when would be an appropriate time to get the epidural. The nurse laughed and told me that I should probably get it now seeing as I was progressing rather quickly and it might be 'too late' if I wait much longer.
The anesthetist was in our room only minutes later. He was a young guy who was chatting it up with my husband...believe it or not, that put me at ease. I swear only 5 minutes went by and that darn epidural was IN. He turned me around and ever so politely said, "Has anyone ever told you how nice of a back you have?" I laughed and replied, "Oh yes, that's what all the boys in high school told me!"
The epidural was in and life was good. I felt like Bethenny Frankel post epidural, "Now this is a party". The nurse decided to put in a foley catheter to drain my bladder because I was being pumped with fluids and was unable to physically get up and go to the bathroom. We were killing time by watching tv, checking facebook, talking on the phone, etc etc. I was anticipating 'the next check'. In my head they were going to tell me I was 10cm dilated and ready to push. In walks the doc. "Well, you're still at 7 and the head is still high. Let's get you started on some Pitocin." Naturally- I was game. Whatever it takes. This baby needs to be here by dinner time!
Hours started flying by and at each 'check' I was still at 7cm. I was getting aggravated. How could I have progressed so fast and then hit a wall? By 7pm I had a new nurse who just so happened to have once been a doula... she told me that we were going to have this baby before her shift was over (7am). That was the positive energy that I needed! She was positioning me in all sorts of crazy ways and at the next check-in I was 8cm. Hallelujah! Surely our bundle of joy will be here soon...
The doctor then decided he needed to sit down and have a serious chat with me. He discussed the seriousness of me being in labor so long and my real lack of progress and told me that I would possibly be needing a c-section. I knew if it were necessary I wouldn't object. I signed the consent form and prayed. A few hours later he came in and told me he wanted to place a probe on my baby's head to monitor his/her heart. I knew this wasn't necessary and objected. You would've thought I told him his mama was ugly... he gave me a, "I'm utterly disgusted with you" look and left the room. My baby wasn't in distress and I didn't want him or her to be put through something unnecessary...
Before we knew it, it was 7:00 and there was still no baby :( Just before change of shift the night doc decided to check me one more time. "Well- you're 10cm, +2 station, and fully effaced. You're ready to push my dear." Holy cow. I knew this moment was going to come but I felt like a deer in headlights. PUSH?! Really? I'm really ready?? My night nurse said bye and good luck and my day nurse came in to say hello. As soon as she walked into the room all I thought was, "She's going to be AWESOME!"
She was a 20 something young nurse with such amazing energy. She was so happy for me and that I was at this point...ready to push. She broke my bed and basically said, "Ok- PUSH!" If you haven't ever 'pushed', wow, what a weird thing. I remember thinking "Please don't poop. Please don't poop." After a few pushes the new doc on duty came in and checked me out. "Oh honey," she said, "you aren't ready yet. You have at least another cm to go and you're at about +1 station". I think at this point I just wanted to cry. My nurse gave me a "pshh" look and said, "Jess, just keep pushing. I know you're ready".
Only a few minutes went by and my nurse told me to stop pushing. "I need to get the doctor back in here... you're about to have the baby!" Again, I was flooded with so much emotion. I was hugging the corner and saw the finish line ahead of me. How was I here? I'm about to meet my baby.
The doctor walked into the room with an inquisitive look on her face. I don't think that she believed my nurse one bit. She took one look under the sheets and quickly put a gown on. "Holy crap- this is no joke", I thought. With one leg in my mom's hand and one leg in my husband's I just kept pushing with everything I had in me. Everyone was so incredibly encouraging I knew I was only moments away. All of a sudden I felt a huge relief. The baby was out!
The doctor held up my baby and shouted, "IT'S A BOY!" I burst into tears. I couldn't believe what just happened and now I have a baby boy :) The nurse then said, "I can't believe you delivered on your due date, that's awesome!" Hmm, actually, my due date was 3 days ago on the 8th... She then proceeded to show me all the documents that indicated TODAY WAS MY DUE DATE. "HUH? For ten months I was under the impression I was due on February 8th when all along it was February 11th?" That was really weird and very cool all at the same time...
They quickly whisked my baby boy away to the incubator and his tiny little 'bed' was surrounded by 7 people. My heart was racing- racing at an uncontrollable speed. "What's going on?? Is he okay??" Everyone was trying to be reassuring and said it was all precautionary. I'm not an idiot AND I just so happen to be in the healthcare field- I know when things aren't 'right'. The doctor told me to lay back as she had to stitch me up (Oh- that was fun-that 2nd degree tear was tougher to deal with then labor and delivery combined). My hubby stood watching over our little boy as the team assessed him. They told me that they had to take him to the 'Special Care Nursery' and take a few x-rays. "X-rays? What for?" Apparently on the way out, our little guy might have broken his clavicle. Not to mention the meconium 'issues'...
My ideal post-birth scenario was not happening. They didn't place him on my chest. I didn't nurse him right away. They didn't hand him to me all cute and swaddled. Instead- I was left in my delivery room by myself eating a COLD breakfast tray. The hubs and my mom went to be with Landon as I sat waiting.
Shortly thereafter I was taken to my postpartum room and was reunited with Steve and my mom. The nurse told me to go down the hall to see my baby. I was ecstatic. I stood up and almost passed out. Instead of walking down the hall I rolled... As soon as I got into the nursery I stood up and saw him. I mean REALLY saw him. This was the first time I got a good look at him. He was perfect. No really, he was perfect. I never in all my life saw a sweeter more beautiful baby and he was mine. Only moments later the pediatrician walked over to us and told us that Landon was cleared with a clean bill of health. No broken clavicle and the meconium wasn't an issue. Praise God! I was leaving the nursery right then and there with my baby in my arms!
Friday and Saturday night were spent in the hospital with Landon at my side every minute of my stay. We had fun staying up all night and getting to know each other... I wouldn't trade those sleepless nights for anything. I am eternally grateful for those precious early memories. Sunday couldn't have come soon enough. We were both ready to get out of the hospital!!
I cannot believe that six and a half months have gone by! We are both enjoying life; happy and healthy!
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