My last birth story is a bit shorter than the others, clocking in at roughly 3 hours overall. There is a pattern here that generally ends in every woman hating me. But every time, it was preceded by 3 weeks of miserable “false” labor.
Miss Ava came into the world in a HURRY. I woke up, 3 days past due date, at 7:30 am, thinking to myself. “I’m staying in bed, this isn’t it, because I feel NOTHING.” 7:45, a pretty big contraction hit. A bit nonplussed, since labor hadn’t ever made itself noticeable before I went into the Hospital before, I began to time them. By 8:15 I’d had quite a few contractions, and had timed them. Some were 10 minutes apart, some were 12 minutes apart, some were 7 minutes apart, but they were really spontaneous and erratic. My Doctor told me to come in to the office to be sure it wasn’t false labor. I knew it wasn’t, but I humored him.
At 9:00am my Mom showed up to take our two girls with her. My husband and I arrived at the Dr’s office at 9:15. I was panting and laying on the receptionist’s desk, telling her over and over “Can I just please go straight to the hospital?” She recognized how far along I was, and told me
“Honey you SHOULD be going straight in! I’ll tell the Dr. you’re here.”
The Dr. saw me, he ordered me placed in a back room, hooked up to a monitor, and told me
“We’ll let ya cook awhile…”
My husband was fuming, but I told him
“You know they are pretty erratic, maybe he’s right, lets just chill out.”
We sat there 30 minutes, by which time I was doing labor breathing. It HURT. My husband went out and told the Dr. to see me NOW.
It took him 15 minutes to come my way, at which point he discovered I was 7 cm dilated. He told me to head to the hospital NOW, and that he’d be along shortly. The hospital was only 15 minutes away, but with traffic and all, we didn’t arrive there till 10:15am. My husband thought we would have Ava in the car and was shouting at the traffic. Little good it did us, but it helped him out!
We got there, and I was about ready tackle someone for a bed and some painkillers. It HURT! We stood at the reception desk, but the lady was on the phone with the ever important “WAIT!” finger wagging in our direction. I was doubled over with contractions, and my husband was ready to take the phone out of her hand when she FINALLY said “Well… Someone is here, I guess I GOTTA go. Ahem, Can I HELP you?!”
My husband informed her I was in labor, and needed in the maternity ward NOW. She let us into the maternity ward, and we were given a bed quickly.
Once there and settled, I told the nurse, on no uncertain terms (remember, I’m a rude laborer… some shirt grabbing, shouting, and maybe a bit of teeth baring and growling was involved.) that I needed an epidural NOW! She told me she’d put me on fluids first. Within 15 minutes she came back to check on me to find me pushing. She delivered the baby halfway til the resident came in. (3 pushes really) The resident did the rest of the work, at which point the anesthesiologist waltzed in and announced “Guess you don’t need me!” and wheeled the table back out.
At that point, I did NOT care. I was holding a beautiful baby within a minute. Miss Ava was 8 lbs even, with BROWN hair, like me! Finally! A little Sicilian baby! All told, this adventure clocked in at roughly 3 hours overall, and resulted in a sweet little Ava Grace. The best part? Recovery was a cinch compared to the other two! I’m thinking the epidural isn’t so great after all!