“Daniel wakes up from a late nap cause he’s been sick and without much thought I give him the heads up that I may be in early labor. He helps me pack the last of my things and takes my suitcase downstairs while I start to enjoy a bath. He comes back completely freaked out saying his back hurts terribly so we switch places and I massage him a few minutes but his pain just intensifies and spreads. He gets out and dressed. He practically falls to the floor barely able to move. I call 911 for the first time in my life.
A fire truck and ambulance come with flashing ‘look at me’ lights. Neighbors peek out their windows and sneak out their doors to get a glimpse of the commotion. Man after man and one really nice women fill our house and Daniel’s chest with wires. I run from flight to flight collecting his glasses, phone, charger, wallet, socks and shoes. Nothing conclusive comes from the tests. Could be a heart attack. They need to take him to the hospital.
My contractions are weak but consistent so Daniel and I decide I’m staying home to be most comfortable. I watch him leave till all the flashing lights disappear. My mom slaughters me with a board game and helps me wind down. At 2am we head upstairs to get some rest that we’ll surely need.
I put on a movie and lay in bed while charting the contractions. The intensity of each contraction increases but they are only half as long as I was told they should be. I wait. A heating pad under my back helps. As do counting and deep breathing. I take a few minutes to make myself look more presentable. With Daniel’s voice in my head not to wait too long I call about 4:30 when the contractions make me ‘ouch’ out loud (last time I was crying, a big difference if you ask me). The lady on the other end of the phone is completely useless and rude and basically tells me to go to the hospital if I felt like it before hanging up on me.
I wake up my mom and Madie and away we go in the heavy-rain filled darkness. My mom does great driving through puddles on unfamiliar streets in an unfamiliar car with my big winey butt in the passenger seat.
Lots of shock and empathy come our way upon arrival as we explain where the father is. A sweet older nurse checks me and says she can’t feel my cervix. I think that means the opposite of what it really means and start freaking out. “I’m going to die if it gets much worse!”. Thankfully she corrected me right away – I’m at a ten.
A doctor comes in whom I’ve never seen before. No one is sure what happened to my water. Oh well. I push. And push. I rest then push. I say things like, “I can’t do it!” and “How many more pushes!?” and “I feel like I’m laying on a metal bar”. I apologize for being so dramatic and check to make sure I’m doing everything as well as I can be.
I open my eyes and Daniel is by my side in a matching gown holding my hand. He is feeling much better! I push some more. More. And then some more. And then… Jonah is here. My precious little boy with dark fussy hair and closed eyes. He looks purple but that clears. He takes a while to cry but he does so. They take him away for tests. I bleed. And bleed. The doctor seems worried which makes me worry as well. She’s too focused to answer my questions. I don’t know what’s going on. Daniel keeps telling me how well I did. I feel a needle moving in and out. I must have torn. Did the bleeding stop? I should be thinking about my baby. I’m so selfish. All these thoughts in my head.
A nurse asks the doctor my two main questions. The bleeding is normal now. The tear is only a one degree (it was forth degree with Madie). I’m fine. It’s over. Our baby is back from tests and perfect. Madie smiles at him and pokes him in the face. Our family is complete. The blessings just keep pouring down and I remain in awe, undeserving and extremely grateful.”