Has it really already been five whole days?
I kind of fibbed my way into the hospital.
Two days! Two and a half full days of steady contractions...coming every 10-15 minutes apart. Contractions that never ceased...that only hinted of pain...that never increased in intensity or frequency...that whispered promises of impending labor but failed, time and time again, to deliver...that kept me awake for 2 full nights watching the clock, recording their spacings in my mind... I was going batty, my friends! Brian's work schedule was becoming complicated, and so - I did it. I let Brian talk me into calling the on-call doctor Sunday night to say whatever it took to get into the hospital - hoping that once we were there, the doctors would keep me and 'help' my labor along. It was actually surprisingly easy.
Me: I think I'm in labor. (the fib)
Dr: Is this your first child?
Me: No, it's my third full-term delivery.
Dr: Oh! Well, then...if you think you're in labor, come on down and join the party! I'll let the nurses know you're coming.
So, instead of flying to the hospital in a frenzy of painful contractions praying to make it in time, Brian took the kids over to a friends house while I moseyed about in my own home packing a hospital bag, and trying to create a mentally positive 'zen' that might induce labor.
After getting to the hospital, the doctor let me labor for 5 hours before coming to the conclusion that I was not progressing. (Really? Oh, gee...I thought I was in labor, Doc...) at this point he gave me three options:
1) "You could go home." To this option, I mustered up the saddest puppy-dog eyes I could and tried to send a clear message to him: 'please don't send me home...'
2) "I could rupture your membranes and see if that gets something started." Yes, yes...I liked the sound of that one.
3) "I could start you on pitocin to really get things started." Umm....well, I've heard a lot of horror stories about pitocin, so..... I choose number 2!!!
So, at 1:00 in the morning, the doctor broke my water, sealing Miles's fate of being born within the next several hours. After he left, I looked at Brian and loved him more than ever - - - he had convinced me to end my own misery by fibbing. What a guy. :)
I learned that I am, unashamedly, an 'epidural-girl'. This had been a point of confusion for me for many months. After a half-way failed attempt at an epidural last time with Carson, I was scared to do it again. But after 4 hours of painful contractions (boy did they start coming after my water was broken!) and discovering that I still hadn't progressed much, I decided I was too mentally exhausted to continue 'handling' it. It was 5:00 in the morning on the third night of little to no sleep, after all, and all I wanted was to relax. So, in came the anesthesiologist and, after a few minor complications, the medicine started flowing. "WHAT was I thinking!?!?!" I thought as I drifted into the land of painlessness. "I should have done this hours ago. This is so. much. better!" I even got 2 hours of sleep after that. :)
When Miles was born, they put him up on my all-the-sudden flabby tummy and I felt as if millions of tiny threads were shooting out of my heart and wrapping themselves around his...forming a bond that was almost tangible. I stroked his furrowed little eyebrow and stared into his open eyes - - - my son.
Brian scooted closer and rubbed my arm. I looked up at him and he beamed at me. "I can't believe how much he looks like Carson," he said as he looked back into Miles's face. "Here, why don't you hold him," I said. He stood up and gently gathered the little bundle into his arms... what is it about seeing him as a brand new daddy? So excited, so proud, so unreserved - those mental pictures are some of the most treasured that I have.
Minutes after Miles was born
He's so tiny - so beautiful - so perfect.
Five days? ... Really? ... How do I slow the time... ?