We successfully wrapped up the second week of school. The week began and ended as any other week. We were getting back in the "school routine": updating the calendar, filling out forms, granting teachers' wish list requests, etc. I dropped the kids off at school Friday morning and headed to my weekly OB visit. The rest of the day I ran a few last minute errands. I picked the boys up from school and we were all looking forward to sleeping in over the weekend. The major areas of the house had been unpacked. Baby A's things were washed and somewhat organized. I got an early afternoon text message to meet friends at the pool, but wasn't up to it, so we just went home to hang out for the evening. My hubby picked up dinner and that was that!
I had just moved from the couch to the bed at around midnight when I started feeling contractions. I experienced a ton of contractions with this pregnancy, so I assumed they were Braxton Hicks (practice contractions). They weren't painful, so I found a comfortable position and went to sleep. An hour or so later, I realized that I was still having contractions. At this point I was a bit concerned because Braxton Hicks usually don't last. By the second hour of contractions, I figured this probably wasn't going be a false alarm. They still weren't intense or at regular intervals. I woke up my hubby and for the next three hours, he became the time keeper (between dozing off to sleep).
My sister wasn't scheduled to come into town until the following day and our person on standby was scheduled to be in a meeting for the day. Being the planner/multi-tasker that I am, I immediately started thinking about plan C. We have a local drop-in child care service that we use occasionally. Fortunately, they're open on Saturdays. I was unsure about the opening time, but figured once I got checked in to the hospital, B, could drop the boys off and come back.
At 4:30 (4 1/2 hours of contractions later), we decided to go to the hospital. We showered, gathered our hospital bags, woke up the boys and headed out. By 5:45 we were checked in and certain we would be meeting our new baby. Initially the boys waited in the delivery room with me. They were forewarned NOT to ask too many questions (we had already taken a sibling class complete with a hospital tour and Q&A time). They sat doe-eyed, either from anxiety or sleepiness, while I answered questions between contractions and had my vitals checked and fetal monitor set up. When the nurses prepped me for my IV, MC got a bit nervous and asked his dad if they could go to the waiting area. I was a bit apprehensive about them being unattended in the waiting room, but we were in a small local hospital in the wee hours of the morning--the waiting area was empty.
At my initial exam, the nurses were surprised that I was dilated to 7 cm. (of 10); they could feel the baby's head. They suspected delivery would be soon, but couldn't give me much more information. Since my water had not broken (as in previous pregnancies) and I'd been contracting for 7 hours now, with increasing intensity and no further progression, I (going against my gut) opted for an epidural. I have a love/hate relationship with epidurals, but I also have a ridiculously low pain tolerance.
My doctor was not on call for the weekend, but the staff paged her and she planned to come in for baby's debut. The doctor on call was finishing a c-section and would be in shortly to check my progress and/or break my water if necessary. In the meantime the anesthesiologist came in an quickly set up his equipment to give me relief.
More paperwork.
More questions.
Him: "Ever had a reaction to anesthesia?" "You're going to feel feel pressure." "Arch your back." "Hold real still".
Me: "Water just broke!" followed by "*&@%$!".
Him: "Okay, it's in. Just lay back."
I lay down and out comes baby. No doctor, no pushing, no whoopla...just crying.
(Side note: I'm secretly ticked that we'll be billed $2,000 for another useless epidural. I should've followed my gut. I digress.)
The nurse is screaming, "Baby on the bed!"
Baby's crying very loudly, so I know she's okay.
I go into my "just delivered a baby" zone and that's a wrap.
Doctors come rushing in.
My doctor finally gets there and they all laugh about the baby that "delivered herself".
For the rest of my hospital stay, all of my nurses asked about my delivery.
Apparently, it doesn't happen that way often.
Leave it to me to have TWO babies that deliver themselves. MC was also born before the doctor arrived. I'm left to wonder...What in the world does that say about their personalities? Should I be worried?
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