A Birthday Story

With Lily’s birthday being this week and the impending birth of our second child, I’ve been thinking a lot about my first labor and delivery and how it all went down. And it occurred to me that since I didn’t have a blog when Lily was first born, many of you don’t know how it happened.

And since everybody loves a good labor and delivery story (or wait…is that just me?) I thought it would be fun to revisit that special day. So travel back in time with me…

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It was 2 years ago today, September 21st – a Sunday. I was nearly a week past my due date and after a somewhat discouraging doctor’s appointment the previous Friday where they told me there was “no change”, they had scheduled me to be induced.

I didn’t want to be induced, but at this point, I was sooo ready. Ready to be done with the pregnancy and move into this new phase of life.

Ready to not have people asking me, “Haven’t you had that baby yet?”

(Look at me. Does it look like I’ve had the baby yet? No. But thanks for the reminder)

I would go to the hospital the next evening (Monday) where they would give me some Cervidil to prepare my cervix for induction. I was…nervously excited.

I can remember the most mundane details about that Sunday.

• We ate Mexican for lunch with my little brother (you know, spicy food).
• Dave got his haircut at Great Clips (just in time for taking pictures at the hospital).
• I wore my favorite maternity dress to church that night (for the last time).
• Dave played basketball with some guys after church and I reminded him to keep his phone close by (just in case).
• I made a list of things to do the next day to keep my mind occupied and help the time pass until we went to the hospital the next evening.

I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions off and on all day – nothing regular, but I did notice before I went to bed that it seemed like they were occurring a little more frequently. Like, maybe every 30 minutes or so. Nothing too concerning. We went to bed.

And then I had the strangest dream. I don’t remember any other details other than that in the dream, I had a horrible stomachache. Like, the worst stomach pain in the world.

Then I woke up.

And I realized, “Hey this isn’t a dream, my stomach really does hurt.”

Wait a second…

I was having contractions – painful contractions – and they seemed fairly close together. I didn’t want to wake Dave up until I was certain this was the real thing so I headed downstairs and started timing.

Seven minutes apart.

Then five minutes.

Deep breaths.

“Um, Dave? I think we might need to go the hospital.”

He jolted out of bed, and stood groggily looking around, still a little sleep confused.

“Really? You’re in labor?”

“Yeah…at least…I think I am.”

We called the doctor, grabbed our bags, and headed towards the hospital. The drive took only 20 minutes but it felt like hours. Confined to the space of the car the contractions felt 10 times worse. By the time we got to the hospital, I was convinced I was going to drop the baby out on the pavement before we even made it to the maternity ward. I had to be dilated to at least an 8 or 9, I was sure of it.

But we made it to the maternity ward (after a few stops to huff and puff) and they started getting me checked in. I don’t remember much of what they did, but I do remember the nurse asking me to rate my pain on a scale of 1-10.

“Ummm…an eight? At least.”

She kind of grinned (What are you smiling about lady? I see nothing funny about this) and then said, “Well, you’re dilated to a 2 1/2, almost a 3.”

Two and a half?

TWO. AND. A. HALF????

AND WE’RE GOING ALL THE WAY TO TEN??????????

“Are you going to want an epidural?” she asked…I think already knowing what my answer would be.

“Yes. Please.”

I have heard stories of women who don’t even realize they are in labor until they are dilated to an 8 or a 9. I have had friends who walk around for weeks dilated to a 3 with no contractions and it never ceases to amaze me. I know every woman is different, and all I can say is I must have gotten the short end of the labor stick because my contractions? They were intense.

Either that, or I’m just a huge wimp.

Probably a little of both :)

After another hour of huffing and puffing I had progressed to a 3 and the anesthesiologist came in to give me my epidural. I had heard horror stories about the size of the needle and how painful it would be but to be honest with you, it didn’t bother me at all, and oh the relief I felt when he got it in and I could relax.

By this time it was close to 5 a.m. and the nurse urged us to get some sleep so we could rest up for what was ahead…

To be continued…