The lasagna that Kristie made that sent her friend Nikki into labor worked even better for me. I didn’t even have to eat it – just defrost it. I got off work on Thursday and ran by FoodMax to pick up some bread to go with the lasagna I planned to eat Friday night, as well as a bottle of Merlot to give Chris Wood for his birthday.
It was Liz’s birthday, so I went over to the Woods and we all watched that show about who’s smarter than a 5th grader. I went home at 9pm, complaining about pregnancy woes. At 10pm, I was watching TV in bed waititng for Kris to get home.
At 11pm, we began timing contractions. Do not ask me how I went from hanging around to timing contractions and not realize that I was in labor. Cause I really didn’t. I’d been having some odd pains all Thursday, and when I realized that night that they resembled menstrual cramps, I told Kris. Tiffany at the Times had told me contractions were like cramps times a thousand.
Once we started documenting these lower back cramps, the only sleep I got was in a few eight-minute intervals around 5:30am. We were waiting until the doc’s office opened to call and see if I could come in and see if there was any dilation happening. I ate breakfast. I showered. I asked Kris to paint my toenails because my puffy feet looked sick and I thought some polish would brighten them up.
At 8am, we called the doc’s. Closed. By this time, I was dropping to a squat or all fours every time a contraction hit, so Kris called the 1-800 line for Henderson & Walton.
“Her contractions are averaging six minutes apart? She should come to the hospital.”
Okay, sounds dumb now, but they were averaging six minutes. Not every one was that close, some were 9 minutes apart or suddenly 4. I really didn’t want to drive to Birmingham to be sent home for “false labor.”
We packed the car in case (and hoping) it was real. I called work to say that though I should be coming in right about now, I’m on my way to Birmingham to see if I’m in labor.
We got to the Henderson & Walton office around 10am. Sitting in the waiting room, contractions started “averaging” 4 minutes. They take me back and make me do all the regular stuff (weigh, pee in a cup, get a finger stick) before they do a cervix check.
“You’re 6cm!”
I think to myself “Awesome! I’m not being sent home!”
Suddenly, there’s a wheelchair and they won’t let me walk the corridor from the women’s center to the labor and delivery wards. Wow, they take this seriously.
11am and we’re getting a room… that we will have a baby in. Weird. I get to pace through a few more contractions and then they make me change into a hospital gown and confine me to the bed, strapped to a contraction monitor, a heartbeat monitor for the baby, a blood pressure cuff and jam me with an IV of Pitocin to “regulate” my contractions.
The nurse comments to every hospital staff member how I’m a first time mom who showed up at 6cm. They all seem a little surprised. I could feel awesome, like Wonder Woman. Instead, I feel a little dumb, like “And you hoped you were in labor? So naïve.”
As long as I could move around, handling the contractions was a lot better. It takes more focus once I’m stuck in the hospital bed.
Zach shows up and he and Kris go unload the car. Now I have tunes and an extra pillow. Cool.
Lunchtime, the doc (did I mention it was my actual doctor on call that day?) comes and breaks my water. And the contractions go from something I can breathe and rock through to incapacitating pains that have me clutching at either Kris or the nurse and whimpering. I think I made through about half an hour of those before I said “yes, I want an epidural.”
After doing 12 hours of contractions and having the epidural, I can say the worst part of my labor was getting the damn IV. No joke.
1pm, and I am Chatty Cathy. Kris’ grandmother is there, Dad and Patsy arrive (they were already in Birmingham to see Don, what timing), Kris’ mom gets there, Mike and Raygen and Bonnie arrive… we all talk and joke until the nurse says “okay, it’s time to push!”
3pm to 5pm, I have my legs as spread eagle as they will go. The nurse holds one leg up and Kris holds the other and every few minutes, the nurse tells me when to push. At the one and a half hour mark, they call Dr. Snowden in and in no time, she’s saying “you’re doing great, Laura” and then there’s a weird feeling as I can’t feel him exit my body on the outside, but I feel it on the inside as the belly collapses.
They ask if Kris wants to cut the cord, but he’s in awe, so he shakes his head and watches. They put him on my chest, but I am too exhausted to do much but marvel that he’s here.
That’s sort of how the last four days have been. Full of cool things that we haven’t had time to process yet. Or the hundred plus pictures on the camera that we haven’t had the chance to download. I’d tell you more, but finding the time to write this much was monumental. Laters, peeps.
