On Sunday, May 6th we didn't go to church. I didn't feel up to sitting in a pew and, to be honest, I was grouchy. I was pretty antsy all day. I took a whole chicken out of the freezer to cook the next day and we went to Annapolis for Philly Cheese Steaks for dinner. On the way home something made me even antsier... After putting Ben down for bed I noticed that the contractions that had been coming every ten minutes, on the dot for three weeks were a little closer. We timed them for about an hour and a half and they varied from six to eight minutes apart... Not labor, but something. We decided around 11:30 that we should go to sleep because labor would probably start in the morning. At some point after midnight mom stuck her head in our room, she had heard us talking and wanted to know if she should change her flight (she was set to leave Monday afternoon), I told her I was probably going into labor In-The-Morning, if anything happened over night I'd let her know.
I couldn't get to sleep because I was so curious about the timing of the contractions... They weren't any stronger than they had been in weeks before, but they were definitely doing something different. I got up around 12:45 and folded laundry and picked up toys while I timed. They were still inconsistent, but were varying from four to six minutes now. At 1:30 I figured I only had a few hours before labor actually started so I went and laid down. The only way I could sleep was if I had as much contact with John as possible... Another sign, I thought, that labor was coming... In-The-Morning. Over the course of the night I had to get up every twenty minutes or so to go to the bathroom. I was well aware, every time, that I only had to go because I was mid-contraction. I'm not sure how many I slept through.
Around four a.m. I had a contraction that startled me in its intensity when it woke me up... I thought for a split second "labor is starting!" But talked myself down and decided to sleep more, since I would be in labor.. In-The-Morning... The next one though (I'm not sure about the intervals at this point) was so strong that when John touched me to ask if I was alright I jumped out of bed and assumed the most comfortable position I could come up with: half bent, leaning on the bed. John asked me if I was in labor and the only response I could muster was to wave my hand and grunt. I think he interpreted this as a "yes" because he got out of bed and asked what I wanted. I brushed him off again until I could get upright, still leaning against the bed post. I finally told him I wanted the bath. When I got into the bath he asked if he had time to shower, "oh yeah, just make it quick!" John showered, and watched me as I worked through some tough contractions. When he got out I asked for my mom and told him to call the doctor, we'd be headed to the hospital soon. Mom came in and kept me company while John went about getting everything in order. Mom asked me if I was ready to get out a couple times (I have no idea how many contractions I had in that tub), but I just kept saying to wait for John. He checked in on me once or twice before we were all ready to get in the car. Just before he came to get me though I had to throw up... The only time I had nausea during my labor with Ben was during transition just before pushing... I thought to myself, "we might be calling an ambulance..." but when I looked up at mom to say it the look on her face was so delightfully horrified I decided to keep it to myself and just smiled!
John came in, got me out, toweled me off and noted that we may have waited too long! I just said, "we're fine!" I'm not sure what John was doing while I was waiting in the garage for him, but I did mention killing him a number of times while I had another few contractions that were tainted with the vague urge to push... That man though, he can drive! Thanks to the time of day (almost 5am) and his superb skills, I spent very little time cursing the little car and was only mildly worried about destroying the front passenger seat with birth.
We got to the hospital at five, on the nose and the ER receptionist very quickly got someone to wheel me upstairs while John signed me in. I'm pretty sure she had visions of delivering a baby herself. As the orderly wheeled me up to the nurses station in L&D I was able to tell them my name before I began a contraction... It was actually very rewarding watching the chaos ensue as she yelled, "WE'RE ACTIVE!!" and nurses came out of the woodwork to get me to a room. The room was an absolute blur as they tried to get a urine sample (no go), get a robe on me (absolutely not), and get me into the bed (only John was able to do that after I hid in the shower for a contraction, fearing the monitors they were about to strap to me). One of the nurses asked me (mid-contraction) if I was planning on a natural birth anyway... I said, "no. Wait, what?" John said, "yes." As soon as they got me down and hooked up one of the nurses checked me: Fully dilated, totally effaced, bags still intact. Infinite questions (including "Do you feel the urge to push?" emphatic nod), several contractions, and a couple of tears later the doctor walked in. NOT MY doctor (any of them), Dr. Hundley. I recognized her immediately and cringed as I turned to John and whispered "I hate her!" She checked me and found me to be at 9 cm. I was not surprised, she had the power to make me want to stop my labor altogether, but John told me it would be fine and I had to will myself to totally ignore her presence so I could birth my son... After just a minute or two I had done it. It was like she wasn't there, and Sam very much was... I told the nurse asking me all the questions, "he's coming." She said, "it's ok, we've got some time." After another question I told her I didn't want to push with the monitors on, she said she needed 30 minutes of tape... When I looked her in the eye and said again, "HE'S COMING." the doctor came over to check me and said, "there's the head, I need an amnio hook!" She broke my water (which was the best feeling I have ever had) and with hardly a push Samuel was born at 5:19! I practically tore him out of the doctor's hands and we snuggled like I had been wanting to for WEEKS! John and I were both shocked by how small he was. We expected him to be much bigger than Benjamin since he had stayed in so much longer!
Sam nursed like a champion right away. Despite that though I was bleeding more than is reasonable so had to get a shot of pitocin. As she gave me the shot the nurse asked, "do you have ANY pain receptors in your body?" I said, "you know, I'm not so sure..!" As the room emptied and Sam nursed she stuck around to finish everything up. She kept asking strange questions and I realized that what she really wanted to know was, "why did you wait so long to come in..?" I began my story with "I woke up around four..." She stopped me, "are you kidding?!" I was not. "Wow," she said, "that's the way to do it!" When she took us over to Maternity you could see the amusement in her face as she covered our chart with the nursery nurse. "We triaged at 5:15, baby was born at 5:19..." "When did you go into labor?" she had the same question... "I think around 4..." "Awesome!"
