So Thursday night I am asleep on the couch and got up to use the bathroom and go to bed. I did my business and then thought, I just peed wiping myself or was that my water breaking. Made a comment to Manfriend and went to bed anyways. This was at about 9pm. I thought nothing of it but had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that something wasn't right. At 11pm I was feeling kind of cramppy so we called the doctors office and they said it was probably false labor based on how many weeks I was to drink a bunch of water, sleep and call the office in the morning.
I could not get comfortable in bed at all and started to watch the clock. I had been awake since 11 and would start to drift a little bit into sleep but would be uncomfortable and try to change positions often. About every 5-7 minutes I was feeling some contractions so I woke up Manfriend who called the doctors office back. This was at 2:30 in the morning. They said to go to the hospital to get checked out. I figured, "this might be it--I think it was my water that broke earlier," so I took a shower and ate a PB sandwich. I remember looking at the clock in Manfriends car, it was 3:11AM and we were on the way to the hospital. I had several contractions on the way there but nothing unbearable that I couldn't breath through.
They admitted us and hooked me up to some monitors and had a mid-wife check me out. It was indeed confirmed that my water had broke and I was indeed in labor. I was already at 3cm and they told me I was not to leave the bed and labor how I had planned--walking around and such. They wanted to keep Critter in there as long as possible. They hooked me up to some IV's and had me on continual monitoring of contractions and Critter's heart rate. I wanted to cry--this was not really happening. I wanted to call my parents in the worst way but knew there was nothing they could do so figured I'd wait until morning (aka when the sun is actually up).
Manfriend said he thought I was going to deck the nurses and punch/kick them when they were giving me an IV and then when they came in and had to give me a shot in my thigh that burned like crazy in hopes that I would labor for 48 hours and they could give me a second dose in 24 hours to help Critter's lungs develop. So here we are at 5am and going to be parents. They cannot stop my labor because my water is broken and the risk of infection is great so they hope it goes slow. That was a "no go."
At 8am I called my mom and attempt to tell her I am at the hospital and she's going to be a Grandma but she thinks we are kidding. I hand the phone to Manfriend because I am starting to cry again. Crying happens when I cannot control what is happening to me. My parents come up to the hospital--my dad uses a vacation day to come and be with us and says it is the *best* vacation day he has ever used. About 10:30 I ask for an epidural. I was going to try to go drug-free but being confined to the bed I cannot get comfortable or move around because of all the wires and monitoring stuff on me. I figure if I can "relax" a little it might slow the labor down. They check me out to see my progress and I am measuring at almost 100% and 5cm--we are moving quick fast apparently compared to most first time laboring mom's (and so starts my "Rockstar" status). By 11am I have an epidural and my parents arrive at the hospital.
I attempt to sleep a little bit but that doesn't really happen. My mom sits and watches the monitors that I cannot see. She notices the contractions getting closer and longer. About 12:30 she suggests that they go get something to eat. I insist that Manfriend go and I will try to sleep. They decide to eat in the cafeteria incase I need to call them they aren't far away out eating. My mom, who knows I am likely going to have a baby soon from watching the monitors, sends Manfriend back to the room while her and my dad take a little longer to eat lunch. He comes back to the room about 1pm.
Manfriend comes back from a quick lunch and the nurse is in checking the monitors and asking me questions. I am feeling some pressure in my bottom and she calls the doctor in--who confirms I am at a 10 and going to have this baby. The doctor has Manfriend put on some scrubs because we are going to the operating room to deliver incase the baby becomes distressed and they need to do an emergency C-section. My parents return to the room a little after 1 to all this chaos. Labor progressed fast. They have me do a few practice pushes while the doctor watches the monitors before they wheel me across the hall.
After 25 minutes of pushing we welcomed our Critter into the world at 1:55pm. The doctors and nurses were beyond excited that we did not find out what we were having so they could be part of the excitement of finding out what. She came in screaming and weighing in at 5 pounds 5 ounces. The staff could not believe that she was a "33 weeker." Apparently she is 90% for her gestational age--that worked in our favor during her stay in the Special Care Nursery.
They swaddled her and took her away so we did not get to hold her and only briefly glimpsed at her. Not exactly what I had wanted/envisioned but knew it was for the best. The staff wanted to know her name but we weren't sharing until we told family first. They thought we had some top secret government baby with not knowing and then not revealing the name. I was wheeled back into the room around 2:30 and told my parents it was a girl and her name. They had tears in their eyes and were so excited. I got to clean up a bit but could not shower because I had an IV in my arm that would come out the next day as long as I didn't need it anymore.
They moved us to a "recovery" room and then we went over to the nursery to see our sweet baby girl. Of course there were tears from all parties involved (mom/dad/Manfriend and me). She would go on to spend 2 weeks in the Special Care Nursery. She was put on forced room oxygen to help keep her lungs open while they finished developing further and went in and out of the lights for high bili levels (her liver was still developing).
*Rockstar Status--quickness of my labor, short duration of pushing, pumping a lot and getting the title of Dairy Queen by the nursery because I filled the drawer in their freezer by the time we were allowed to leave the hospital.
