The birth of a child seems anything but miraculous while you are in the pain of labor, but now that Eli is home and in my arms I see just what a miracle the whole process was. God was looking out for all the details. I'll be honest this story can be sometimes graphic but let's be honest - this is a Labor of Love!
Since my last progesterone shot wore off December 2nd I have been having a number of contractions. That first day I actually thought I might be heading to the hospital but after a hot bath and lots of water things calmed. In the days since there have been contractions that came and went always making me wonder but then mysteriously dissapearing just when I started to get my hopes up.
That's how things went on Monday December 14. That morning I had a few strong contraction and then nothing. While making and eating dinner there were a few more but I figured as all the other times, they would just go away again. Thus I headed out to my church meeting at 6:30 and was a bit surprised to find that I was having contractions during the whole meeting about 15 to 20 minutes apart.
After the meeting let out I needed to run to Target and found myself walking around the store for 30 minutes just to see if I could keep the contractions up. (Let's face it - I was more than ready to have this baby!) While in the checkout line I actually had to lean up against the counter and sway my hips a bit to get through a strong one. The lady behind me gave me the craziest look and I just smiled and left.
Once home I got a few things done to last minute prepare for the hospital but also made a list of stuff to do for Tuesday since I was still not totally convinced this was the real thing. Around 10 pm I tried to lay down but the coming and going contractions made it too uncomfortable so I decided to get some more things done. By midnight I was in the tub thinking to myself, "If they keep up after this I might let myself believe that we are actually going to have this baby."
I got out of the bathroom about 45 minutes later and was convinced. The contractions were every five minutes all through the bath and had only worsened in intensity. I walked around the house and rocked back and forth and timed contractions and then finally woke Jason up just after 1 am for a second opinion. Should we start calling people?
We called my midwife and she decided to have me go in and be monitored and checked. That she would have St Johns contact her with the results of where we were at. (She noted later that I sounded so calm she wasn't sure I was really far enough along to warrant her getting out of bed yet.) With that decision made I called my friend Lora around 1:30 to come and spend the rest of the night at our place to stay with Seth. (Second children means more prep work!) She arrived and we were out the door into the cold night around 1:45 am.
Getting in the car was so uncomfortable! The contractions were strong but the transitions were horrible, up and down - no good. They were coming every three minutes apart too. That was a long ride to St John's in Maplewood. When we arrived we pulled up to the usual spot and I was just like, "Honey, I need out of the car." As Jason is getting me out of the car we are seeing that you have to enter by way of the emergency room after 10:30 pm. I was NOT getting back in the car mind you so a walk was necessary.
I walked in the frozen tundra (-3 degrees) down a flight of stairs and around the side of the building. It was not that far a distance but in that cold and with the close contractions it felt like a trek on Mt. Hood in a snow storm. Fortunately we did not get lost! We entered the door and of course they want me to sit in a wheelchair. Whatever! I bargained for walking next to the wheelchair and the nurse agreed with some hesitation. It was another long walk to the maternity ward stopping along the way to grab the hand rails and rock my hips. That technique along with the breathing is the best for me.
Once to the maternity ward the nurse just kept walking me all the way to a new room (the maternity ward is under construction). She told me that she had seen enough to know I was not going home without a baby. I agreed gratefully and told her she was right on. Once in my new room I got into that beautiful gown that covers what I am not sure and then got hooked up to the baby monitor.
This of course meant laying in the bed for awhile, not comfy. She let me get up after 20 minutes when all seemed well praise the Lord! The not so fun part was being checked for dilation. What a cruel thing they do to you. I love how they wait for you to be in between contractions, as if it really hurts any less. The nurse Cathi found I was too posterior to really know for sure so she called out for "long fingers" to come.
That's all I know her as since that's how they referred to her. No kidding though, she had long fingers and walked up my cervix as she called it. Not fun at all, but then she told me I was a six to seven and I decided not to harm her. Though she kept her LONG fingers in there though the next contraction and determined I was an eight. Then I thought about striking out, but hey, I was eight centimeters?! That was pretty great news.
Especially great news to my husbands ears who figured we were in for a long haul labor. He admitted later that he figured I was going to be at a two or three and hopefully have a baby by 9 am. What faith he had. Turns out I am tougher than he thought. The nurse looked over at me while rapidly trying to fill out my chart and double checked that I was planning on doing this naturally. As if I had a choice at that point anyway. When I nodded that this was in fact the plan she said I could do it.
Transition was the name of the game - the contractions were right on top of each other and strong! Speaking of transitions this is getting long. I guess you'll have to wait for Part 2...
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