When people asked me Friday night when our baby was due, I told them 3 weeks - but I predict that I will be a week or two late. Consequently, when I woke up at 1:15 Saturday morning with cramping, I did not think much of it. After waking up every two hours and until finally just waking up for the morning at 7:00, I thought perhaps I was experiencing false labor. I texted Mom and asked her what she thought: she confirmed my speculations but encouraged me to call my doctor. Around 9:30 I called my doctor's office who had the doctor on duty, Dr. Korey, call me from the hospital. He was not at all convinced I was in labor and quite rudely informed me how I'm not supposed to call until my contractions are 5-7 minutes apart and that I should just calm down. I was very upset with my interaction with him, and actually told him that I was not used to being spoken to that way. After getting off the phone with him, I proceeded to call my various sisters and get their advice on the situation. As the day progressed, my "cramps" seemed to be intensifying even though they were not necessarily growing closer together. At lunch time the contractions were about 2 hours apart still so I decided to go ahead and eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch. I spoke with mom about deciphering between Braxton Hicks and real labor, and she asked if I had experienced back pain yet.
Well my body must have heard her because my back began to hurt intensely shortly after she got off the phone. Jon was out mowing the lawn so I tried to relieve the pain by thinking of all the random positions I remember seeing in the birthing movies we had to watch...didn't help much. After Jon finished mowing the lawn he decided to stay close by and he was very helpful. He kept track of my contractions: when they happened and their length. As they grew closer together, Mom told me I really should call my doctor. I also had bright red blood in my discharge, which is also not usually a good sign. I was very hesitant to call since I had such a bad experience with the doctor on duty, whom I had never met, so Jon took initiative and called after I took a shower. At this point Jon was asking when I felt a contraction and I remember not being able to distinguish between pain and contractions, so on our contraction sheet he has times with "pain" next to them. He would ask: "Are you having a contraction?" And my response was a few times: "I don't know! PAIN!"
After my shower Jon had to finish packing (whoops!) and also practically dress me as I oddly did not feel the need to rush. After he finally convinced me to move off the bed and relocate to the car, I kept telling him that I thought he should drive slower. First of all, it was uncomfortable when he drove over bumps. But, more importantly, I did not want to arrive at the hospital to find out that I was not dilated enough to be admitted and be sent home. During the entire car ride my contractions remained about 5 minutes apart. My main thoughts on the way to the hospital: if this is not real labor, this is cruel.
We drove up to the main entrance and Jon opened my door. "Would you like me to get you a wheel chair or do you want to walk inside?" "I don't know!" Jon ran into the hospital, told the attendant at the desk why we were there, and came out to get me. He locked the car and walked inside, asking if he could park it later.
The maternity ward was all ready for me when I arrived. I decided I didn't want to embarrass myself when I found out I wasn't dilated, so I told them that I had a low pain tolerance - just in case nothing was happening. They wheeled me to room 12 where I put on the gown and laid on the bed. When the doctor came to check on me after a few minutes, I was 4-5 cm dilated and 100% effaced, the baby's head was down and my water was bulging. I recalled looking at the clock on the wall: it was 5:55.
"I want an epidural, just in case you don't know"I informed the nursing staff. So they tried administering my IV at two locations on my left arm before successfully jabbing me in my left. I remember three nurses working us but I spent the majority of my time lying on my side with my eyes closed. They asked some questions, which I answered when I could or just let Jon take over. Jon asked probably 4 or 5 times if he should go move his car. "No, you should probably stay here. If you get a ticket, just tell them to talk to us and we'll take care of it." That should have been my first indication.
I asked a few times about the epidural as time passed and a nurse told me all the equipment was in the hall waiting. They needed to get my blood results back and then the anesthesiologist would do her work. After asking another time or two, a nurse told me that we might not have time for one, and laughed briefly. "That's not funny!" was my immediate response. I remember someone telling me that I was 7 cm dilated. Soon after someone asked if I was ready to push. I told them I didn't know how that felt, but I felt like I was "gagging from the other end." Yes. That means I'm ready.
The doctor came, the bed came apart and the stirrups were set up. I could not believe I wasn't getting an epidural and they expected me to push this baby out! The doctor told me to let him know when I felt a contraction coming. I kept telling him that I didn't know what that felt like. Although I couldn't explain what it felt like, when it came I definitely knew! Jon sent Mom a text at 6:55 that I was getting ready to push.
Jon thinks it was probably about 5 contractions later, so probably 10 pushes or so, and out came our baby! While I was pushing, I remember saying how I couldn't believe I was having my baby without an epidural. I generally kept my eyes closed, too, during the process because every time I opened them I felt like the doctor was holding a 4 inch needle or some form of weapon. She was born at 7:14, hardly two and a half hours after I would have been considered in "active" labor. I still do not think I have recovered from the shock of not having time for an epidural.
