Here is a nice long story about the time I gave birth to my third child.
And if you're curious:
First child's story.
Second child's story.
The more time that goes by, the more Claire's birth seems like a good story instead of a scary, panic-crazed event.
Not that anything totally traumatizing happened. We are both healthy and happy. But still.
The thing to keep in mind is how absolutely convinced I was that she was NOT going to come early. So when my contractions started up every half hour approximately six days prior to my due date, I shrugged it off as false labor. I then spent the next sixteen hours shrugging them off. The internet told me if my contractions weren't getting more intense or closer together (and they weren't), it wasn't real. And I trusted the Internet, like the intelligent person I am.
Except of course that I
still didn't think it was the real deal when my contractions sped up to every 10 minutes. I begrudgingly let Seth, who had worked from home during the afternoon, call his mother to come pick up the girls (She lives an hour and a half away.) Thankfully, he was taking this much more seriously than I was.
I
did make him keep our appointment to get the tires changed on our van. (There was a screw in one! We had to pump it up any time we needed to go anywhere! I wanted it done before the baby came! I was in complete labor denial!) So Seth took the girls and was gone for an hour. This is the part of the story that scares Seth the most, because he spent the whole appointment imagining me calling to tell him I needed to get to the hospital immediately while the van was still up on the lift.
By the time his mom came to pick up the girls, my contractions were every five minutes and I finally started to concede that this might possibly be actual labor. Maybe. I decided I would take a shower and then we could go to the hospital, and hopefully they wouldn't make me come home because it was just Braxton Hicks.
I still can't believe how in denial I was. Are you screaming at me right now? Because I am.
So, I took a shower and when I got out they were coming every minute or two and I told Seth, "We need to go NOW." And this is the part of the story where Seth and I descend into panic, because I've realized (finally!) that this is the real thing and we may have waited just a bit too long to get to the hospital.
It was like a movie scene. Seth is running around throwing last minute stuff into our bag. He speeds to the hospital. We get to the Emergency Room parking lot and there is nowhere to park because half the lot is blocked off! I REFUSE to let him drop me off at the door because I don't want to go in by myself. (In case the trusting the internet thing didn't convince you that I am stupid, this should.) We have to go find parking in the parking garage. It's very full. We finally find a spot by the elevator. We huff and puff over to the side entrance, only to read that those doors are locked at 8:30. It's 9:10.
We start making our way over to the main entrance, but I can barely move because of the contractions. Seth takes off running to get me a wheelchair from the lobby, then runs back and deposits me in it, then runs me back to the entrance.
We get to the Labor and Delivery floor. It is completely full. They don't even have a triage room available. So I sit in my wheelchair and we wait. And wait. And wait. For 30 minutes. I am still having contractions every minute. The staff are completely unruffled by our panic. I tell Seth I am probably in transition and going to start pushing soon. He tries to get the staff to hurry along.
They finally make a space for me, in a curtained off back corner of a room with four or five other people. They make me change into a hospital gown and get me on the bed. I am dilated to a nine, so I get to stay. Can you believe it, I actually remember feeling relieved that our panic was justified! (The denial! The stupidity!) They are busy and they messed up our paperwork so every single nurse leaves to go do something else.
And then suddenly, I am screaming at the top of my lungs because I am pushing. I yell at Seth that I am pushing the baby out! He says "Don't push!" I say "I can't help it!" We are both terrified. No nurses have come even though I am screaming bloody murder (and it's only later that I find the sympathy for the four or five other women in the room who are listening to me.) He runs out into the hall to get a nurse. She is nonchalantly putting some gloves on. She makes her way back to my little corner. She only starts to really move when she realizes I have already birthed half the baby on my own.
Claire was born at 10:00 pm on the dot. The nurses got her feet out. The doctor didn't get there until everything was over. I go into shock and start hyperventilating and shaking all over. I cannot even hold the baby. I keep asking Seth, "What just happened?" They finally get me into an empty Labor and Delivery room, even though I have already accomplished both of those things.
It takes me a long time to calm down and process the fact that I just had a freaking baby. I don't recommend having a birth like that, but I did appreciate the fact that I could get up and move around easily, as they didn't even have time to put an IV in, let alone an epidural. The rest of the hospital stay was uneventful.
So even though it's kind of my fault for not getting to the hospital sooner, I am totally going to hold this over Claire's head for the rest of her life. Five days early! What were you thinking!
But we love her anyway.
