A Most Drama-Filled Entry

She Came and Conquered –

Sunday morning, November 15th at 38.5 weeks pregnant, I was starting to have severe stomach cramps. The pain felt like constipation. I know TMI, but you have to know this in order to know the craziness of it all so just follow, okay? Okay.

So I had these cramps but I couldn’t go to the bathroom. The pain took my breath away. The cramps weren’t consistent and had no real rhythm. I’d get one wave and then nothing for about an hour and a half. So what did I do? I ate. I drank water. I had some Tums. I thought maybe I was dehydrated and if I hydrated and settled my stomach I could go to the bathroom. Then somewhere around Noon, the pain drove me to my knees.

There was no way to soothe the discomfort except to get on all fours. After mostly abstaining from cursing for the past six or seven years, this pain let S-H-I-T fly out of my mouth so naturally it was like I used it on a conversational basis. That was a clue that I was in labor. Still no rhythm though.

The last time I went to the hospital they told me I was having false labor. I was only 4cm and not contracting often enough to be considered active. That was two weeks prior. So the discharge form tells me to wait until these contractions are three to five minutes apart for two hours before heading to the hospital. So I waited. In pain, but I waited.

About 1:30PM the rhythm came, but it didn’t build like expected. There was no 15 minute interval with the time decreasing between contractions. My husband says to me, “It’s 1:51 and you’ve had 5 contractions since 1:30.” He’s so cute. He knew I was in pain and knew it was dangerous to tell me what to do. He just needed to point out the fact as a passive agressive way to ask me, “What the hell are you trying to achieve? Shouldn’t we be headed to the hospital?” I took heed (slowly) and I called the on-call doctor at 2:13PM.

Not one to wait for a callback, I got fully dressed and we headed out. It was hard making it out the door as the last contraction before leaving had me on the chaise in my home-office on all fours ready to ram my head into the wall. Still, my husband gets me into the car. We get to the hospital close to 3PM and I’m ready to pull my hair out. Seeing I was not going to be any good with filling out forms, the nursing staff rish me back to maternity triage. They check and tell me that I’m still 4cm so this is probably constipation. So what do they do? Try to give me an enema. Didn’t work. So another one. I can’t sit still. They can’t get a tracing on the baby. I’m begging for pain meds. I feel hot. Sweat trickling. I strip naked while cursing about it. Somuch pain. I hurl a pillow. Wild curls of hair has me looking like a mad woman. Something is pushing out of me. I warn them. They check, “6cm!” I try to breathe without panting, but it’s hard. “It just wants to push! It just wants to push!”

They do another check. “Labor, labor, labor! She’s fully dilated. We’re sorry, we can’t give you any epidural.” The alarms go off and doctors come rushing in, backing the resident away. I am screaming like a chainsaw is cutting through my stomach. My husband hugs me and lets me scream. He calls his sister who is an OBGYN in another state. He puts her on speaker. She calmly reminds me I’ve done this before and I can do it again. “Remember when you said that the pushing relieved the contraction? Push mama. Just push.”

I got quiet, focused, and two pushes later a ball of baby cam tumbling out and with that my relief. 4:44PM. Relieved only for a second as I heard no cry. There was no baby being placed on my chest. Pediatric staff came in and rushed my little girl away. “She’s not crying. What’s wrong with her?” No one would answer me. The doctor tried turning my attention to the sewing. “You ripped a little.” I looked around at faces. There was worry. I took it as a sign of hope. There’s sadness when it’s over, but worry when there’s hope efforts are working. I kept quiet and decided to accept whatever was happening.

About ten minutes later, a nurse came in with my baby laid out with a breathing apparatus. She needed help, but there was life. They were taking her up to the NICU. I survived. She survivied. Daddy didn’t pass out. We’re all okay.

Later when I was back in my right mind, it was explained to me that my water never broke. The baby came out in her bubble of water. She was blue and couldn’t breathe. Toady, not even a week later she’ll be coming home. She can breathe on her own and she eats, poops, and cries. She recognizes her mommy’s scent and loves to sleep clost to Mommy’s breasts. Who knows what life has in store for her? As her parents, we’re just so grateful that God had her in store for us.

“The Champ is Here!”

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