Lucy's birth story--the long version

I woke up Tuesday morning at 4:00 to the baby giving a hard kick, and then I felt my water leak or break--I wasn't sure. I went into the bathroom and decided this was pretty similar to what had happened with Nate--about the same amount of fluid, maybe a bit more. With him, it ended up being a leak that didn't really spur labor, but I knew we should get to the hospital in the next few hours since even a leak meant we'd be having the baby. I didn't have any immediate contractions, and after about 30 minutes, I decided to get back in bed for a while (with towels underneath me) to try to rest a little bit, since this would probably be a long day. The contractions started pretty soon after that, coming about 7 minutes apart but mild enough that I could stay lying down and just breathe through them. When I got back up at 5:30, the contractions were really uncomfortable but still bearable, and they were coming a bit closer together. I went back into the bathroom and found that leaning on the sink and rocking forward and backward made the contractions less painful, and I did this for a while, realizing they were still getting closer together and a lot stronger--fast.

I woke Jon up at 6:00. He hopped in the shower and then heard me groan with the start of a contraction--the first time I'd made any noise. I have never seen him finish a shower faster. He was an adrenaline madman after that, getting dressed, getting Nate up and dressed (even toasting him a waffle), putting the last couple of items on my written list into Nate's packed bag, calling his dad, and packing the car, all while I labored in our room and packed my things (already set aside and/or written on a list) in between contractions, which were coming very fast now--about 3 minutes apart. Somewhere in this time, I called the hospital and let them know we were on our way. I called Jon's sister, Janel, too, since she'd be watching Nate. And I think I called Casey. I couldn't talk during contractions at this point.

We decided to drive straight to the hospital as opposed to Janel's house to drop Nate off; Jon's dad, Ray, was going to meet us at the hospital to get Nate. As we were getting in the car at about 6:45, I told Jon I was scared. Everything was happening so fast and the contractions had gotten so painful so quickly that I wasn't sure we were going to make it to the hospital in time for the epidural (if you are past a certain point--I think around 7 cm dilated--they can't give you the epidural). In my thinking, I had hours left, and if it was going to get worse than this, I couldn't do it. I had several bad contractions in the car while Jon sped the 7 miles to the hospital. We pulled up to the hospital door, and Ray walked up behind us. I stood up out of the car, and suddenly, I had to push! I can't explain the urge except to call it primal; my body was just under so much duress that the way to address it was push.

Ray ran inside the hospital and almost immediately came back out with a nurse and a wheelchair. Sitting in the chair took away the pushing urge somewhat. The nurse took me inside and up the elevator. As the doors opened onto the second floor, I saw an I-mean-business Jon bound up the last step of the stairwell to meet me holding all of our things (bag, cameras--he remembered it all). We pulled up to the nurse's station for me to check in, and I hollered my name at them and said, "I hope I made it in time for the epidural!" I think I was a bit delirious.

We made it into room 287, and the nurse gave me a gown and said she needed a urine sample. I don't think she understood the urgency of the situation. I went into the restroom and promptly had a terrible contraction, and I bent over the tub and made what I'm sure is the universal "I'm pushing" noise. The nurse ran in, yelling, "Don't push! Don't push!" She ushered me, clotheless (me, not her), to the hospital bed, which was surrounded by several other nurses and Jon also telling me not to push. There was no doctor in the room yet. A nurse checked me for about a half second and shouted, "She's complete, plus two!" (This means I was 10 cm dilated and the baby was really far down.) Someone put a gown over me (Jon now tells me he did) while nurse Jaime had me breathing lots of short, fast breaths to try to stop my body from pushing. "Where is Doctor O'Toole?" someone yelled. "I don't know!" "Where is Doctor Han?" "I don't know!" "Page any doctor, stat!" They really did say stat. I had to do the breathing through several contractions while waiting for a doctor, and this was the worst part of the labor. My body was taking control and telling me to do one thing, and I was trying to tell it no. I hated that nurse for not letting me push. I think Jon almost hyperventilated because he was doing the breathing with me. During this time, another nurse tried to fill in some of the paperwork, so she actually expected me to answer such questions as, "Who is the pediatrician? Were you Group B Strep positive or negative? What number baby is this?" I did answer her questions but probably not very nicely.

Finally, Dr. Han arrived. I think she might have had time to put on gloves (wink, wink). I got to push--hallelujah! The nurse had to remind me to hold my breath, because I was yelling out. I pushed for just over one minute (what a crazy feeling), and out came our baby! The doctor held the baby up, moved the cord out of the way, and someone (doctor? nurse? Jon? I don't know) said, "It's a girl!"

It's amazing how quickly I went from feeling so bad to feeling so amazingly good. I laid there while the doctor finished taking care of me (no stitches or anything necessary!) and tried to get over the shock of the last few minutes. I couldn't believe how quickly I had gone from very bearable contractions (4:30 a.m.) to oh-my-goodness-let's-get-to-the-hospital contractions (6:15 a.m.) to I-might-have-this-baby-in-the-car contractions (6:50 a.m.) to pushing (7:05 a.m.) to baby (7:12 a.m.)! They brought our little Lucy to me, and I held my precious daughter for the first time. :)