Saturday morning, I woke Robert up and said, “Eww gross! My mucous plug is coming out!” He said, “Stop joking around!” I said, “Wanna see!? I’m NOT joking!” He did NOT want to see – go figure. His mom called a few minutes later and asked if we wanted to go to breakfast, so we did (deciding not to tell her what might be happening). My friend Cristi was coming into town later in the afternoon to take me shopping and to go the Gallery Hop, so I called her after breakfast, told HER what was going on, and asked her to come a little early (just in case we needed to make a run for the border, so to speak).
By the time she got here around 1PM, I was feeling a few cramps, but not even enough to mention them to Robert. I figured they were part of the mucous plug finding its way to freedom (and maybe that was my water breaking, we never did find out). By the time we finished lunch at Chipotle at 2PM, I was wishing I could order up some Chipotle-burrito-sized relief of my own, because I was pretty sure I was having some sort of regular contractions as we sat on the patio and chatted. But they were far apart, and HEY, we had some shopping to do still. By the time we made it to Target and Kohl’s at 3PM, I figured maybe we ought not be in public, because people might think I was having some sort of medical emergency, or I don’t know….going into LABOR?! so we went home.
Around 3:30PM we left for the hospital because Robert’s spreadsheet confirmed that my contractions were five minutes apart and one minute long. HE wanted to track them longer so as to get a better statistical average (something about the standard deviation getting worse the more I had?) “I think you need to have TWO MORE here at home, then we go,” he said. I finally said, “ROBERT. We are GOING to the hospital right now. I’ll have AT LEAST one in the car on the way to the hospital!” And I did. I think three. And Bob entered them all into this fantastic spreadsheet on his laptop. I think it’s cool. Dads everywhere probably appreciate it.
And it’s a good thing, too! When we got to OSU, and they did my cervical exam, the nurse said, “I think I’ll get a second opinion – you’re 6/7 centimeters dilated! Have you been having contractions all day at home?!” A second opinion confirmed it! (10 centimeters, if you don’t know – means PUSH!!!!! There’s a baby coming!!!! 4 centimeters is when they admit you to the hospital).
So they admitted me right away (it was about 5:00 at that point). The last time I remember looking at the clock, it was 5:40PM, so I’m not sure of the time from this point. That’s when I told the nurse in the labor room, “I’m not getting anywhere!” She said, “Well, you’ve made it from 6 cm – 7cm since you’ve been here, that’s good!” And then, all of a sudden, I told the nurse that I…well, I had to poop. I didn’t think it was a big deal because I’d seen in the childbirth classes that it can happen! 😦 So when she said NO, don’t! I was kind of mad! “WHY NOT?!” I asked. She just said, “No, don’t! just breathe through that feeling.” I asked again and again she said just breathe, so I did, but I told her (sort of rudely) that it was OK!! if I pooped.
She obviously hadn’t seen the same video I had.
I obviously hadn’t been to medical school.
Because in a flurry of about five minutes, in my middle of my yelling at her that I had to poop, and her telling me not to, I began to hear her say, “Get the senior attending,” and “Angie, we’re going to give you some oxygen, and I’m going to transform the bed into the stirrups like I told you it does, and when I say, breathe and push…” At this point, I’m thinking, “Lady, I just want to go poop!”
Then the DOCTOR introduces herself, and says, “Angie, it’s time to have the baby, ready? Breathe, push!” And TWO pushes later, Nila was born.
I know. It happened just as crazy as all that. I was told later that I went from 7 cm – 10 cm in a minute and a half (literally), and that the poop feeling, was Nila, and so that’s why she was telling me not to poop, er uh, push. And no, I didn’t have any medications at all. There was 1) no time, 2) I hadn’t planned on it and 3) honestly, I didn’t REALLY need it.
I need it today. I have a headache.
Oh. Wanna hear a funny story? This should go on a dad blog somewhere. In the triage room, they were doing one of the cervical exams, which in MY opinion, hurt almost as much as the actual labor! Well, Robert, being the world’s BEST husband (seriously), gave me a knuckle to bite on. That seems like a seriously heroic thing to do, right? So, I bit it. HARD!!!! What they were doing hurt! So I bit as hard as it hurt!! HAHAHAHA! Robert decided maybe that was not such a good idea and yanked it back offering some other comfort instead and didn’t try that again throughout the evening. Smart guy, I’d say. He gets points for 1) offering the knuckle in the first place, and 2) making me laugh in the middle of a very NOT funny moment. 😉
Ah… good times. Too long of a post. Ending it now. More later, I’m sure… Nila Nicole Meeker…sigh…