As I suddenly woke up I looked at my phone on the nightstand and it was 1:09am. I ran to the bathroom a few steps from my side of the bed and noticed a small amount of leaking fluid that appeared a little blood tinged. The obstetrician had told me that if my water broke I needed to go to the hospital immediately but if I passed my mucus plug, I needn't even call because it could still be days or weeks before I delivered. The amount of fluid was so small that I figured it must be the mucus plug.
I crawled back into bed. All of a sudden I was leaking a little again and eventually it was just a clear color. I googled what it is supposed to look like when your water breaks, and everything seemed consistent but the amount was so small that I was confused. After waking Sean and asking him if he thought I should call the OB, I finally decided to wake up whoever was on call. It was my favorite doctor in the group, so I felt extra bad about waking her up. She said it did not sound like my water had broken because the amount of fluid was not enough, but the only way to know for sure would be to go into the hospital and have the residents on the L & D unit perform some tests. She asked if I was having contractions and I said no (I had never even had any Braxton Hicks contractions, so I wasn't even sure if I would know right away what a contraction was). She said it was up to me to decide what to do.
Ugh... not helpful information. Sean was scheduled to work at 2pm that day, so I felt really bad about dragging him all the way to the hospital (which was about 30-40 min away) for a false alarm. I decided to go back to bed. At 1:38am I had what seemed to be a contraction (I was very excited that I had figured this out). I still didn't really want to go in, so I decided to try to sleep a little and time the contractions with a trusty app I had downloaded on my iPhone. Amazingly I started having pretty regular contractions about 5-8 min apart. They didn't hurt at all, so I was able to doze a little for a couple hours.
Around 3am I woke Sean again, and we decided that we had better go in and just be seen since I was having contractions now. We figured if we went in right away, we could get out in time for Sean to come home and sleep a little before his shift in the ER at 2. Neither of us thought there was any way that this was the real thing.
We had to stop and pack a bag for the hospital. We still had 2 1/2 weeks before my due date, and I had been so tired after work that we didn't have anything ready. I had not washed any baby clothes, packed a hospital bag or purchased any groceries or any of those things you are supposed to have ready before a baby comes. Nesting? Yeah, I don't know what that is.
Since it was Christmas Eve, EVERYONE we knew in Chicago was out of town, including the friends who were going to watch our dog Brigita when I actually went into labor. We tried to contact one friend who I thought maybe was still around, but her phone just went directly to voicemail.
We thought about trying to board Brigita at a kennel she had been to before, but it was really far in the opposite direction of the hospital and that plan seemed really ridiculous considering this was going to be a false alarm. We finally decided to drop her off at the house of the same friends who were originally going to watch her even though they weren't home. They had a key box on their door that we had used previously, and I still had the combination in my phone messages. We know them to be kind, generous and easy-going people, so we decided to not call them at 4am to ask permission.
After dropping of Brigita in our friends' kitchen, we arrived at the hospital (about a 10 min drive from their house) around 4:30am. We strolled up to the L & D unit. Everything was very quiet (no one gets induced on Christmas Eve, so there were very few patients).
We told the nurses our story. They asked if I was still leaking fluid and I said no, so they took us into a room designed for quick checks on patients whom they suspect will not need to be admitted. As soon as we arrived in the room, I felt a slight warmth on my pants. I told the nurse I guessed I was still leaking after all. At this comment, she looked at us and hesitated, then said that maybe we should just get set up in an admitting room instead.
I looked at Sean with a disbelieving look. This is not for real. I've never had any indication that anything is actually imminent. I'm sure we won't end up staying.
I got dressed in a hospital gown, gave a urine sample, and sat in the hospital bed waiting to see what would happen. They explained to me that they needed to verify that my water had indeed broken. The nurse took a swab test, which was negative of course, since they had just had me wipe away any evidence for the urine sample.
The next step was to get the in-house OB to come and do an exam to verify. I did not understand what this would entail. I had never even been "checked" at my OB/GYN office yet to see how far along I was. At my last clinic visit they said they would "check" me the next time at 38 weeks. I seriously thought that "checking" was like getting a yearly pelvic exam. Little did I know what I was in for when that doctor verified that my water had broken.
I had been contemplating trying to not get an epidural and seeing how everything went. Considering that I was currently having the easiest contractions ever and had been for the past few hours, I was hopeful that I would be able to make it for a little while.
A very nice OB doctor came in, introduced himself, and in the next breath apologized to me for what he was about to do considering that we had just met. I sort of laughed anxiously, wondering what was coming. All I can say is it was extremely painful, I cried, and I decided that I would get an epidural after all. Apparently my water had broken, but Cora's head was so engaged that the fluid was just leaking around it. Yowza. No wonder I was hurting so much at work.
They put me on pitocin to speed the contractions up. When your water breaks, they want to get the baby out within 24 hours or there is an increased risk of infection. Pitocin is not nice. Normal contractions lead you up to the worse ones, whereas pitocin just starts bad ones in right away before you even get a chance to get used to them and build your pain tolerance. I got the epidural pretty quickly after I had decided on one. I figured why be in more pain than necessary if I already knew I was going to do it. I didn't really care about the experience of feeling natural labor.
In the meantime we called our families and let them know that apparently we were having a baby today (some small part of me thought that maybe we would still get sent home). I wanted my mom to be with me, so she got herself ready and started driving all the way to Chicago from northern MN on Christmas Eve.
I was dilated to a 2 on arrival and progressed to a 4 by about 10am. We asked our nurse for a ballpark time when she thought I would start pushing and she said that according to the textbooks, being a 4 at 10am would put me in the dinnertime delivery window.
Armed with this knowledge, Sean and I decided that it would be a good time for him to drive over and let Brigita outside. I rested and watched some TV. He got back and brought some lunch up to our room (I was not allowed to eat at this point).
The very nice OB resident told me that she would be back when it was time for me to start pushing and to let them know if I was starting to have any pelvic pressure (whatever that meant - everyone throws these terms around and it only all makes sense after you have done it and are looking back).
I was feeling great with the epidural but was also worried that I wouldn't know when to push naturally at all when the time came. That was my biggest fear with getting one in the first place and why I had not wanted to. My nurse informed me that they would turn the medication down to a certain point so I would know what to do.
At 11:45am I started feeling a pressure (that really is the perfect word) that was different than the faint contraction sensation I noticed. I notified the nurse and the resident came back to perform an exam to check my status.
Then I heard the news that I had gone from a 4 to a 10 in less than 2 hours, and it was time to start pushing. I felt like I didn't even have time to really get good and scared like I wanted to before everyone was setting my room up for delivery (I was in one of those rooms where you do it all in the one place).
I started pushing around noon and Cora was born at 1:02pm. I managed to be calm and follow directions the whole time even though the "pressure" really hurt. I was happy that I could feel it though, so I knew what to do and they didn't have to tell me. By the way, those movies where everyone is like "PUSH!!!" to the woman with the nice makeup are really stupid. Your body tells you what you need to do. There is no other option than to push.
I never yelled at Sean like in the movies either and only got frustrated with the staff once in the very end when everyone was talking over me about whether to push or not push when Cora was almost born. Sean said I did great, and he was the best person I could have ever wanted there with me. He always seemed to redirect me when I felt like I kind of wanted to panic. He was so calm.
I remember holding my little love for the first time. I wish I could put that into words. They didn't give her to me right away like you hear about or see in the movies (you know, delivery and then place baby on mom's chest). I wish they had. That's the only thing I really would have changed about the whole experience. She got weighed and got goo put in her eyes and all that stuff before they gave her to me.
Sean cut the cord and followed her around to get pictures, but he made sure that I was the first of us to hold her. I cried while they were taking care of her (while I was getting stitched up) and when I first held her. There is just so much emotion that goes with delivery. It's hard to control when to let it all out. Then we just marveled at this tiny little person.
I felt calmly on an adrenaline high for the rest of the day. Until my mom arrived. She got to the hospital around 9:30pm after getting in her car at 8 that morning. She walked in the room and came towards me and said, "oh, my brave girl." Then I broke down. It makes me cry even now to think of that memory. I have it seared in my mind. There's something about becoming a mother and then being with your own that is indescribably beautiful.
It snowed softly but heavily overnight, and we opened the curtains in the morning to a beautiful white Christmas.
I crawled back into bed. All of a sudden I was leaking a little again and eventually it was just a clear color. I googled what it is supposed to look like when your water breaks, and everything seemed consistent but the amount was so small that I was confused. After waking Sean and asking him if he thought I should call the OB, I finally decided to wake up whoever was on call. It was my favorite doctor in the group, so I felt extra bad about waking her up. She said it did not sound like my water had broken because the amount of fluid was not enough, but the only way to know for sure would be to go into the hospital and have the residents on the L & D unit perform some tests. She asked if I was having contractions and I said no (I had never even had any Braxton Hicks contractions, so I wasn't even sure if I would know right away what a contraction was). She said it was up to me to decide what to do.
Ugh... not helpful information. Sean was scheduled to work at 2pm that day, so I felt really bad about dragging him all the way to the hospital (which was about 30-40 min away) for a false alarm. I decided to go back to bed. At 1:38am I had what seemed to be a contraction (I was very excited that I had figured this out). I still didn't really want to go in, so I decided to try to sleep a little and time the contractions with a trusty app I had downloaded on my iPhone. Amazingly I started having pretty regular contractions about 5-8 min apart. They didn't hurt at all, so I was able to doze a little for a couple hours.
Around 3am I woke Sean again, and we decided that we had better go in and just be seen since I was having contractions now. We figured if we went in right away, we could get out in time for Sean to come home and sleep a little before his shift in the ER at 2. Neither of us thought there was any way that this was the real thing.
We had to stop and pack a bag for the hospital. We still had 2 1/2 weeks before my due date, and I had been so tired after work that we didn't have anything ready. I had not washed any baby clothes, packed a hospital bag or purchased any groceries or any of those things you are supposed to have ready before a baby comes. Nesting? Yeah, I don't know what that is.
Since it was Christmas Eve, EVERYONE we knew in Chicago was out of town, including the friends who were going to watch our dog Brigita when I actually went into labor. We tried to contact one friend who I thought maybe was still around, but her phone just went directly to voicemail.
We thought about trying to board Brigita at a kennel she had been to before, but it was really far in the opposite direction of the hospital and that plan seemed really ridiculous considering this was going to be a false alarm. We finally decided to drop her off at the house of the same friends who were originally going to watch her even though they weren't home. They had a key box on their door that we had used previously, and I still had the combination in my phone messages. We know them to be kind, generous and easy-going people, so we decided to not call them at 4am to ask permission.
After dropping of Brigita in our friends' kitchen, we arrived at the hospital (about a 10 min drive from their house) around 4:30am. We strolled up to the L & D unit. Everything was very quiet (no one gets induced on Christmas Eve, so there were very few patients).
We told the nurses our story. They asked if I was still leaking fluid and I said no, so they took us into a room designed for quick checks on patients whom they suspect will not need to be admitted. As soon as we arrived in the room, I felt a slight warmth on my pants. I told the nurse I guessed I was still leaking after all. At this comment, she looked at us and hesitated, then said that maybe we should just get set up in an admitting room instead.
I looked at Sean with a disbelieving look. This is not for real. I've never had any indication that anything is actually imminent. I'm sure we won't end up staying.
I got dressed in a hospital gown, gave a urine sample, and sat in the hospital bed waiting to see what would happen. They explained to me that they needed to verify that my water had indeed broken. The nurse took a swab test, which was negative of course, since they had just had me wipe away any evidence for the urine sample.
The next step was to get the in-house OB to come and do an exam to verify. I did not understand what this would entail. I had never even been "checked" at my OB/GYN office yet to see how far along I was. At my last clinic visit they said they would "check" me the next time at 38 weeks. I seriously thought that "checking" was like getting a yearly pelvic exam. Little did I know what I was in for when that doctor verified that my water had broken.
I had been contemplating trying to not get an epidural and seeing how everything went. Considering that I was currently having the easiest contractions ever and had been for the past few hours, I was hopeful that I would be able to make it for a little while.
A very nice OB doctor came in, introduced himself, and in the next breath apologized to me for what he was about to do considering that we had just met. I sort of laughed anxiously, wondering what was coming. All I can say is it was extremely painful, I cried, and I decided that I would get an epidural after all. Apparently my water had broken, but Cora's head was so engaged that the fluid was just leaking around it. Yowza. No wonder I was hurting so much at work.
They put me on pitocin to speed the contractions up. When your water breaks, they want to get the baby out within 24 hours or there is an increased risk of infection. Pitocin is not nice. Normal contractions lead you up to the worse ones, whereas pitocin just starts bad ones in right away before you even get a chance to get used to them and build your pain tolerance. I got the epidural pretty quickly after I had decided on one. I figured why be in more pain than necessary if I already knew I was going to do it. I didn't really care about the experience of feeling natural labor.
In the meantime we called our families and let them know that apparently we were having a baby today (some small part of me thought that maybe we would still get sent home). I wanted my mom to be with me, so she got herself ready and started driving all the way to Chicago from northern MN on Christmas Eve.
I was dilated to a 2 on arrival and progressed to a 4 by about 10am. We asked our nurse for a ballpark time when she thought I would start pushing and she said that according to the textbooks, being a 4 at 10am would put me in the dinnertime delivery window.
Armed with this knowledge, Sean and I decided that it would be a good time for him to drive over and let Brigita outside. I rested and watched some TV. He got back and brought some lunch up to our room (I was not allowed to eat at this point).
The very nice OB resident told me that she would be back when it was time for me to start pushing and to let them know if I was starting to have any pelvic pressure (whatever that meant - everyone throws these terms around and it only all makes sense after you have done it and are looking back).
I was feeling great with the epidural but was also worried that I wouldn't know when to push naturally at all when the time came. That was my biggest fear with getting one in the first place and why I had not wanted to. My nurse informed me that they would turn the medication down to a certain point so I would know what to do.
At 11:45am I started feeling a pressure (that really is the perfect word) that was different than the faint contraction sensation I noticed. I notified the nurse and the resident came back to perform an exam to check my status.
Then I heard the news that I had gone from a 4 to a 10 in less than 2 hours, and it was time to start pushing. I felt like I didn't even have time to really get good and scared like I wanted to before everyone was setting my room up for delivery (I was in one of those rooms where you do it all in the one place).
I started pushing around noon and Cora was born at 1:02pm. I managed to be calm and follow directions the whole time even though the "pressure" really hurt. I was happy that I could feel it though, so I knew what to do and they didn't have to tell me. By the way, those movies where everyone is like "PUSH!!!" to the woman with the nice makeup are really stupid. Your body tells you what you need to do. There is no other option than to push.
I never yelled at Sean like in the movies either and only got frustrated with the staff once in the very end when everyone was talking over me about whether to push or not push when Cora was almost born. Sean said I did great, and he was the best person I could have ever wanted there with me. He always seemed to redirect me when I felt like I kind of wanted to panic. He was so calm.
I remember holding my little love for the first time. I wish I could put that into words. They didn't give her to me right away like you hear about or see in the movies (you know, delivery and then place baby on mom's chest). I wish they had. That's the only thing I really would have changed about the whole experience. She got weighed and got goo put in her eyes and all that stuff before they gave her to me.
Sean cut the cord and followed her around to get pictures, but he made sure that I was the first of us to hold her. I cried while they were taking care of her (while I was getting stitched up) and when I first held her. There is just so much emotion that goes with delivery. It's hard to control when to let it all out. Then we just marveled at this tiny little person.
I felt calmly on an adrenaline high for the rest of the day. Until my mom arrived. She got to the hospital around 9:30pm after getting in her car at 8 that morning. She walked in the room and came towards me and said, "oh, my brave girl." Then I broke down. It makes me cry even now to think of that memory. I have it seared in my mind. There's something about becoming a mother and then being with your own that is indescribably beautiful.
It snowed softly but heavily overnight, and we opened the curtains in the morning to a beautiful white Christmas.
