My official due date was set for last Friday, June 8th. On the 7th, I went to the doctor. I was only at a 0.5, and she decided we would wait and see if the weekend would bring good weather for a strong, healthy stork to fly our way. Friday came and went. I finished my last day of work until November 26th! Woo hoo!! Saturday morning arrived with a series of unpleasant, yet manageable, menstrual type cramps. My stomach hurt, yet the pain was different from the few braxton hicks contractions I thought I had weeks earlier. It was less sharp. Less sudden. More like an overall feeling of soreness. Chris and I ran errands all day. Then we decided on KFC for dinner, which apparently was exactly what our little Chicken Fry called for. My stomach began to ache a little more, so we went for a long walk down Dempster Street and around our new neighborhood. Toward the end of our walk I felt more out of breath and ready to get home than usual, even though we had made the same stroll several times over the past few weeks. I laid down in bed and tried to rub my belly, hoping that would ease some of the discomfort I was experiencing. As I turned over around 9:50 p.m., I felt a sudden surge of liquid down below and dashed into the bathroom to see if what I thought had happened actually happened. Even though I was definitely wet, doubt overcame all certainty. I yelled for Chris and he convinced me to call my doctor and explain all of my symptoms. I did and she told me to take a shower, take my time, and head over to the hospital when I was ready.
We arrived at the hospital and checked into the labor and delivery floor around 10:40 p.m. Very, VERY few other expectant mothers were there. The floor was silent. They directed me to my room and checked to see how far dilated I was. To my surprise, I had jumped from a 0.5 on Thursday to a whooping 4 in a matter of two days! Apparently the cramping I felt all day were pretty serious contractions. Despite how far along I was, the doctor did not think that my water had broke, so he told Chris and I to walk around for an hour or so and he would check again. As we walked around the hushed hallways, I would have to stop every few minutes or so and practice our breathing techniques. Ah-hee, Ah-hee, Ah-hee. The pains were definitely intensifying. Some hurt so badly, which definitely caused me to shed more than a tear or two. Around midnight we went back to our room and the doctor confirmed that I was now at a 5 and that my water actually had broken, but it had broken behind the baby (not really an issue). He said that since I was more than half way there, I could have an epidural if I wanted one to help with the pain. After much debating over the past few weeks as to whether or not I would order an epidural, I had no problem nodding my head yes when push came to shove. Once the anesthetic was inserted into my spine (such a burst of stinging pain!) and the epidural began to spread its magic, I felt nothing but peace. Chris and I would watch the contractions go up and down on the monitor, and I wouldn't even blink an eye. However, the contractions definitely began to grow less and less. The epidural had slowed down the rate of my labor, which did allow for plenty of sleep and time for texting and warning family that little Chickie was on his or her way.
By 8 a.m. I was finally at a 10 and more than ready to POP! My actual OB doctor was called in. This was it, or so I thought. Unfortunately, Chickie was now facing cheek up, instead of top of the head up, which would allow for a much easier delivery. The doctor suggested that I lay on my side and see if the baby would shift a little before we progressed with my delivery. THREE HOURS LATER!!! the doctor finally returned (around 11 a.m.), apologizing that she got caught up in returning emails and "whatnot". Grrr. An intern accompanying the doctor checked me out first. She said that Chickie was still cheek up and that a C-section might be the way to go. After enduring a whole day of contractions and a whole night with an epidural just to hear that I may need to have a C-section anyways did not make me a happy patient. Thankfully the doctor checked me out as well. Apparently Chickie had turned and was now officially ready to make his/her grand debut!
As a result of the epidural (even though I never pressed the button to release more of it), my legs were numb, especially my right leg - dead weight for sure! Chris and the other specialists helped me raise my legs into the stirrups, the doctor made a cut to give Chickie more wiggle room (thank God I couldn't feel that! at least at the time.), and I began a series of three 10 second pushes, which would last for the next 15 - 20 minutes or so. Even though I couldn't feel much - if any - pain below, my entire face hurt so badly just from the intensity of the pushes. At one point, the top of Chickie's head surfaced and the doctor allowed me a brief break to feel it crowning. So soft. So surreal. Finally the head was out, and seconds later Chickie shot out with a burst of water (the water that had broken behind him/her) as if coming down a water slide. It was an immediate relief to have him/her out of me. I asked Chris what Chickie was, and his response was "Umm ... I don't know." The doctor jumped in, exclaiming "It's a boy!" At last. Our Kyle was here. xoxo.
