Charlotte's Birth Story - Part II

Apologies for the delay in continuing the story... I got sidetracked and forgot about it a little bit, and then we went on vacation so... yeah. Anyhoo...

After determining that there actually was something happening, I called out to Paul who was still in bed. I told him I thought my water had broken, or that at the very least I was leaking fluid of some sort. And then we just sort of stared at each other for a minute before he said "Well... I guess we should probably head to the hospital?" I vaguely remembered the OB saying at one of my last appointments to call before heading in, so I dialed the answering service and gave them my information. At that point I was sitting on the bed on a towel and a much bigger gush of fluid was released. I decided the bed was probably not a good place to be and went back to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet sounded awkward and uncomfortable, so I removed my pajama bottoms and proceeded to stand in the bathtub. The on-call doctor called back a few minutes later and asked me some questions about the fluid (color, amount) and whether or not I was having contractions. I confirmed that I had been having round-the-clock contractions for over a month but nothing that seemed to go amount to anything (honestly I wasn't even timing them anymore). I also reminded her that we lived about an hour away. She suggested we come on in and get checked.

At that point Paul was wide awake and starting to collect last minute items to toss into the already packed overnight and diaper bags. I texted my mom (who had been staying with us for a couple of weeks and was asleep in the downstairs guest room) and asked her to come up. I stood in the tub in my bra and a towel going over instructions and details with her for taking care of N and the cats and dog. We agreed she could let my dad know we were headed in, but not to wake N or tell anyone else until we knew for sure how things were going. It was right about midnight when we finally got loaded into the car - me wearing 2 thick pads and seated on a towel on top of a puppy pee pad :)

As we pulled out of the driveway, Paul realized we needed gas. I remembered my gas light coming on as I was getting close to home the night before, but I had decided not to stop because I needed to get back in time to sign papers for the truck. I had actually intended to tell Paul to run out and fill up after the truck ordeal, but it had slipped my mind. So we headed to the closest/our usual gas station. It was closed. At that point it was starting to storm out. We drove to another gas station closer to the interstate. Closed. We then drove to a third gas station on the opposite side of the interstate, and thankfully it had a 24-hour pump option. All of this added about 20 minutes to our start time, so by the time we finally got onto the interstate to head towards the city, it was storming and raining heavily and the gushes of fluid were getting larger and more frequent. I was also starting to contract more often.

Despite the weather and gas-delays, we made good time seeing as it was the middle of the night and there was no traffic. We arrived at the hospital around 1:15 or so and I got checked in to the maternity triage area. They brought me back to a room where a nurse did a preliminary exam and got me hooked up to the monitors. I was surprised to learn that she would not be checking my cervix, however; apparently they don't do that anymore unless absolutely necessary (something about risk of infection)? She did comment on the color of the amniotic fluid and mentioned she was going to have it looked at under the microscope to rule out meconium contamination. She left the room saying she would consult with the doctor and someone would be back to tell me the plan. An ultrasound tech also came in to do a quick check to confirm that the baby was head down. After that, no one came back for over an hour.

While we waited, I began contracting much more regularly, though they were not super intense yet. The most uncomfortable part of waiting was the bed in the triage room.  As much as I wanted to close my eyes and try to nap a little while I still could, I couldn't seem to get comfortable without disrupting the contraction and/or fetal heart rate monitors. Paul meanwhile was dozing in a chair with his head against the wall. Sometime after 2:30 a.m., a different nurse returned and informed me that they were sending me up to L&D to get admitted. She didn't mention anything about the meconium exam and I forgot to ask. We gathered our things and an orderly wheeled me up to our room in L&D a little before 3 a.m.

It was at that point that I finally started to feel like it was real. Our baby girl was on her way. One way or another, we were going to become a family of four very soon! 

Charlotte's Birth Story - Part I

It's 8:49 pm and I *think* both kiddos are asleep for the night, but one never knows... I'm exhausted and it's been a long day of solo-parenting while P is on shift, but it's too soon to pump again so we'll see how far I get with writing this :)

I was overdue. Again. Though not as much as with N (thankfully). My actual due date was May 14 - Mother's Day (oh, the irony of that day). At my doctor's appointment the week before, I was still not dilated AT ALL, despite having had on-again-off-again, round-the-clock contractions for most of the last month. I spent the entire weekend doing all the things to try to put myself in labor: spicy foods, long, vigorous walks, off-roading through bumpy fields in my husband's truck... and yes, even the horizontal tango. Of course none of that worked (does it ever? really?).

My next appointment was on Monday the 15th, and the plan was for the doctor to try to sweep my membranes (translation = conduct an aggressive cervical exam) in the hopes of spurring things onward. That could only be done though if my cervix was found to be 'favorable' for it. Thankfully, it was: I had progressed from 'clamped shut' to 'a solid half a centimeter' dilated, but it was apparently enough for her to get access to the membranes and sweep away. I swear the doctor's hand was so far up there she was practically in my esophagus - it was not the most comfortable experience. Nevertheless, she mentioned that during the course of the sweeping, she may have gotten me 'up to 2 cm', so I was thrilled. She cautioned that there were no promises, but she wouldn't be surprised to see me back in the next 36-48 hours. 

While we were all hopeful that I would still go into spontaneous labor, there was some concern about the possible size of the baby (and my increasing levels of discomfort), so we agreed to tentatively schedule an induction as a back-up plan. I left the OB/GYN office on Monday with assurances that someone would call to schedule me for an end of the week induction (likely Thursday or Friday). I went home that night and walked another 2-3 miles before eating a dinner that involved red chili pepper flakes. 

By Tuesday afternoon, no one had called yet and I was getting antsy. I couldn't tell that much had changed - the contractions still came and went with varying frequency and intensity. I called the doctor's office and they assured me they hadn't forgotten but were still waiting to hear back from the hospital about availability. That evening I walked up and down the lakeshore path that is near my office (and the hospital where I was delivering) before finally giving up and heading home. 

As Wednesday rolled around, my mood spiraled downward. I called the doctor's office again (twice, actually) and got the same response as on Tuesday. Meanwhile I was starting to feel panicky because it was looking less and less like it would happen before the weekend, and P was scheduled to return to work the following Tuesday (because of how they do their time off at his work, he had had to pick which shifts to take off several months ahead without knowing for sure when the baby would arrive). And to make matters worse, another woman in my office who was actually due 3 weeks after me was in labor. As I prepared to head home that evening, I poked my head into the office next door to say goodbye to a co-worker. She was also pregnant (and also due in about 2-3 weeks) and every evening we would joke about how she hoped not to see me the next morning. That evening though, I told her I was starting to think she would also deliver before me, and rather than our usual 'hope I don't see you tomorrow' banter, I said 'I'm pretty sure I will see you again in the morning.' 

I got home that evening and was feeling pretty depressed. My hopes of a spontaneous labor were growing dimmer. I was worried about P's work schedule and whether or not he would even be there for the birth of our child. I was tired of the discomfort. Tired of going on walks that made the swelling in my feet and ankles worse but didn't induce labor. Tired of people at work saying 'oh hey - you're still here!' Tired of being tired. I just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep.

Unfortunately, P had decided that it was the perfect time to buy a new truck. I'm not even kidding. In the midst of everything else, he had arranged for the dealership to bring the new truck to our house to do the trade-in for his old truck that evening. So at 8 pm that evening, we were signing papers and handing off keys in our driveway. Once the dealership people left, we loaded N and my mom (who had been staying with us since the early part of May) into the truck and all went for a test drive. We were gone maybe 15-20 minutes before heading home to get N to bed (it was way past his bedtime) and eat a late dinner. P and I finally crawled into bed sometime between 10:30-10:45, as I lamented the fact that I once again would be heading to work in the morning.

As usual, despite my fatigue, it took me a while to fall asleep. Just as I was drifting off around 11:30 or so... I felt a little gush of fluid leak out. I was nearly asleep and it was just a tiny gush, so I immediately assumed it had been pee. Nevertheless, I got out of bed and traipsed to the bathroom to investigate. As I sat on the toilet, nothing happened. I waited a few minutes before deciding that it had been a false alarm thanks to weakened pelvic floor muscles. But just as I was about to stand up and return to bed... there was another gush. I thought to myself, I did NOT just pee. It was just after 11:30 pm on Wednesday, May 17, and my water was breaking... at last.