This is a long one and just as much for me as it is for you. I say this so I can be ridiculously detailed- I just don't want to forget this night or any of these moments and I don't do the whole "paper journal" thing. So as I mentioned on my previous entry, I had been having muscle pain and a hurricane was a-brewing in the Atlantic. I awoke on Saturday at about 5am feeling like I had been clenching every muscle in my body all night long. I called my ob/gyn and left a message like, 'My skeletal muscles kill. I'm not having contractions. The baby is kicking as it should. Not sure this is pregnancy related, but I want to let you know it is happening in case there is some weird pregnancy disorder with this symptom that I do not know about.' Doc called back and was like, 'No. Doesn't sound pregnancy related. But I would like to just check out the baby if you are in this much pain. It's really busy at the hospital right now, so come in at around 10 and we'll do a non-stress test and you can get home before the heavy rain hits.' In the next 5 hours, I googled my symptoms (results: fruitless), diagnosed myself with fibermyalgia (sp? not bothering to spell check this) and/or rheumatoid arthr*tis, took a hot bath and shaved (which felt amazing... and, umm.. hello- we all know how this story ends, so THANK GOD), asked the in-laws (who were coming over later that day anyway. J had to run in to work for a few hours in the morning) to watch Monkey for a few hours, got her dressed, packed her a lunch and drove myself to the hospital.
I got to the hospital was greeted by my doc who was on his way out, peed in a cup, put a gown on and they strapped 2 monitors to my belly: 1 to monitor baby's heartbeat, 1 to monitor contractions (I think... bc that's what it did). An hour later, a different doc comes in (not my doc). She said, 'You had 1 contraction since you've been here, which is normal. We think you just have a bladder infection. Stick around for 1 more hour while we wait the results of your urine test.' The nurse came in. I told her 'I don't want to have the baby today.' She said, 'Don't worry, baby. You won't. It's too early.' Okay. Exit: doctor and nurse. Enter: the world's most regular contractions you have ever seen. I saw them begin on the monitor. I saw the first one. Normally contractions start out far apart and then gradually get closer together. Not these, my friends. These were every minute from the very first contraction. I sat there watching the weather channel, praying that I was incorrectly reading the monitor. I fully intended on going home that night and being with Monkey. No question.
Doctor comes in. She explains to me that I have been contracting and is going to check if I'm dilated, etc.. She asked if I was dilated at my last doctor visit. Internal exams don't start at my doctor's office until 37 or 38 weeks- I was just 36 wks, 6 days. Appt was on Monday, so... I didn't know. This woman was small. So were her fingers. I'm 5'8" (or 5' 7.5"). Also, every muscle in my entire body was in pain (hence, the reason I'm AT the hospital). She basically had to fist me to feel my cervix. I never have experienced such pain during a routine internal exam. She was frustrated at my inability to not ride up the table, and I was pretty much hating her for not letting me go home and then for fisting me and for being an ob/gyn to begin with. Result: 4cm dilated, 50% effaced. She said, "You must stick around for 2 more hours, we'll see if these contractions are false labor or if they are actually making your cervix dilate." I still was clinging to the nurse's words and refusing to believe that there was any possibility that I was in labor.
2 hours later, Doctor did another painful check. 6 cm dilated. I was progressing. The doctor says, 'You are 6 cm dilated.' I responded, 'Can you give me medication to stop the labor for awhile so that I can go home?' BTW- I know this medication exists. For some reason nobody even considered giving it to me. I mean, I know my doctor said "After 36 weeks we will not try to stop your labor," but, I mean, aren't these things negotiable? Would it hurt to stop the labor? She responded, 'M... you are in labor. You aren't going home.' My response? I burst into tears. This was just not how I planned it (and here I thought I was so laid back) and I wanted to be home with Monkey. I wasn't ready.
I then call my mom crying. I then call J crying. My friend TheBlind was pretty much my lifesaver. Her text messages kept me laughing during this time. Keep in mind that we now know everything is okay. But before the storm hit, before my baby was born pre-term- I didn't know how things would end. And I have to formally thank her for "virtually" being there with me at that time. Thanks for being there for me in my time of need, buddy.
The nurse kept being like, 'You need to stop crying. You are going to meet your baby tonight.'
But I just could not believe it. I don't know why I was so tied to the idea of being induced again at 39 weeks. I think because it felt safe. I knew what would happen and could control many circumstances: I could pack, arrange for my mom to watch Monkey, get a pedicure, shave [thoroughly], schedule it AFTER the hurricane, select my doctor. I just wasn't ready. We had no diapers, my huge order from Babies R Us hadn't arrived yet, etc... I could not wrap my mind around being in labor.
Anyway, my body didn't give a sh*t and labor continued. My contractions did not miss a beat. They were regular, strong and productive. I got an epidural, the doctor broke my water. J and I watched 80% weather channel and 20% My Big Fat G*ypsy Wedding (have you seen this show? CRAZY. We were blessed to catch a marathon). Things didn't start to get wild until later that evening... when the tornadoes began to touch down all around and in my city. I was watching the warnings, learning the exact time the tornado or, in the alternative, circular winds, would be passing through our city and calling the in-laws to direct them to the basement. I kid you not when I tell you that most residents slept in their basements that night. Screw the hurricane- it was the tornadoes that scared the sh*t out of everyone. A tornado blew through a neighboring town and wiped out over 10 houses, narrowly missing my nurse's father's house (a new nurse, at this point. Cindy.) She told me she was afraid: not for her father's life, but for her father's house. Because he'd have to come live w her if his house was blown away. Anyway, the in-laws did me a solid and totally woke Monk up and took her to the basement. These tornado warnings lasted for HOURS. I was completely fixated. I was just SO WORRIED about Monkey. The last one was to end at 11:00. At 10:45, Cindy came in and was like, 'Alright, I'm going to check you to see how you're doing.' Still staring at the TV, I spread my legs (no shame, no pride). Cindy tells me it's time to push: she is staring at the baby's head. To be honest, I still could not wrap my mind around the fact that a baby was in there. I ask her if we can wait until after the tornado warning is over. She said "No, the baby is coming. Let's turn off the TV." J agreed with her and I had to take a leap of faith and recognize that I am out of control and if God has plans to have a tornado take out my house, then staring at the TV is not going to stop it. We turned off the TV and I pushed like a freaking champ. I mean.. I did this only 19 months ago. I wasn't wasting any energy. This baby flew down. I pushed for like 8 minutes and the nurse was like, 'Hold on. Let me get the doctor and baby nurses.' They rolled in for my final pushes. For the final 8 minutes, I had an audience staring at my v*agina. It phased me not. With Monkey, the [male] doctor was silent and the baby nurses were off to the side. Only my nurse and J were saying encouraging things. I was perfectly okay with this- I fully trust my nerdy doc. This time couldn't have been more different. It was like girl power fell upon that room with flickering lights due to the storm. The doctor was like, 'Awesome, girl. Another big push- that's right. You can do it.' The baby nurse is farther away saying, 'Beautiful. Awesome. Look at all the hair on that baby's head.' My nurse continued to cheer me on. I would never switch ob/gyn practices because, frankly, this woman's fingers are too short for someone of my height, but I may be a female doctor convert. Even J was like, 'I liked having a room full of women when you were pushing.' In any event, my sweet H*llary was born. And she was smaller- 6 lbs 5 oz - with a head full of dark hair. They handed her to me and she just stared at me and let out this cry and I just stared at her in disbelief. All this time...
my experience in having 2 kids.
We kept Monk in daycare last week so as not to disturb her routine at all. She is going down to part-time. I worry about forcing her to endure an emotional transition back to daycare upon the end of my mat leave. I miss her terribly when she is not here. I must say, though, when she is here, I am like Mom-Woman. There is no half way and thank goodness J is as into it as I am. He missed his calling as a baby nurse. He watched H*llary while Monk and I went to Tar*get, the playground, for walks, had bath time.
Anyway, turns out I do have the capacity to love another baby as much as I love Monk. I'm glad we shelled out cash to get family pictures in June, though. I can barely recall life without the new baby- it's like she was here all along. When I see those pictures of Monkey as an only child, my eyes tear up immediately. And then when I look in H*llary's eyes and contemplate the life she has to live before her, tears spring to my eyes. Who am I kidding? Doesn't take much to make me cry these days.. or any day since January 2010 when I had Monkey. You get pregnant because you think it will be fun/you want to give a sibling to your only child/you always wanted a child/2 children- and you end up once more vulnerable and completely head over heels in love. I don't know if I have the emotional stability for this gig.
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