SO I texted Brad who had just finished at the barber shop and told him I was supposed to go get checked out at the hospital. At this point I wasn't really thinking, "I'm going to be a mom in 12 hours!" I was more so thinking, "I wish we didn't have to stop at the hospital before going to IKEA... traffic on the 20 is going to be horrible..." Yeah. Delusional.
We had been instructed to go to the third floor of St. Marys when my water broke, my contractions were at the 1-5-1 point, or if anything was wrong, so that's where we headed. We were in the waiting room of the labour and delivery area for about 20 minutes. Brad kept us occupied by pretending to make phone calls on the phone in the waiting room to imaginary friends. Yes. The future father of my children right there :)
When they asked me for my blue hospital card and Carte Sante, I handed it to them, not realizing I was in the process of being ADMITTED to the hospital. The paper work and thus the epiphany would come later. So I waited in a triage little room where the walls are made of curtains and was hooked up to a fetal monitor. We saw the contractions on the monitor but they were really irregular and not "labour" contractions. We knew this already, so again, we totally thought we'd be home in a matter of hours.
It wasn't until the internal exam that the doctors at the hospital verified that it was indeed amniotic fluid. Clarification: my water didn't break. It was leaking though, which means they need to break it because there's a risk of infection and they didn't know how long it had been leaking. So after a slightly painful exam (it was my second in an hour) we were informed, rather ungracefully by a brisk nurse, that the baby needed to come out within 24 hours. WHAT? My water didn't even break! I don't even have contractions! WHAT!?!?!?!
Yes. 24 hours. That's when it hit us. We weren't leaving this hospital without a baby. Correction: I wasn't. After that, I was admitted to the hospital and went to the delivery room where I'd be until the baby was delivered, and Brad bolted home to get my bags and a sub. Yes, I was hungry, and I didn't know I wouldn't be allowed to eat... (sidenote: not a good idea. No matter how hungry you are, do NOT eat a sub hours before labour pains. You will barf from the pain.)
So I was lead into the delivery room, a spacious room with lots of windows overlooking the back of St. Joseph's oratory (not too shabby!). This is when I started texting like mad. My friends, my mom, everyone I had the cell numbers to. Partly because it didn't feel real until I shared it with others, partly because I was so dang excited, and partly because I felt alone. Brad was gone and I was in a big room about to deliver a baby.
So as I was texting all of you, nurses and doctors came in and out, asking if I needed anything, introducing themselves, and making me feel very comfortable. The doctor who would delivery Lily 7 hours later came in to introduce herself. She was lovely. Not Dr. Hall, who I was hoping would delivery Lily since she had been with me the 8 months leading up to this, but I was fine with that as soon as I met her. She and other nurses kept reminding me to "just say when" in regards to getting an epidural. But I told them, a little too proudly, "I don't think I'll be taking one".
Oh how naive I was...
We had been instructed to go to the third floor of St. Marys when my water broke, my contractions were at the 1-5-1 point, or if anything was wrong, so that's where we headed. We were in the waiting room of the labour and delivery area for about 20 minutes. Brad kept us occupied by pretending to make phone calls on the phone in the waiting room to imaginary friends. Yes. The future father of my children right there :)
When they asked me for my blue hospital card and Carte Sante, I handed it to them, not realizing I was in the process of being ADMITTED to the hospital. The paper work and thus the epiphany would come later. So I waited in a triage little room where the walls are made of curtains and was hooked up to a fetal monitor. We saw the contractions on the monitor but they were really irregular and not "labour" contractions. We knew this already, so again, we totally thought we'd be home in a matter of hours.
It wasn't until the internal exam that the doctors at the hospital verified that it was indeed amniotic fluid. Clarification: my water didn't break. It was leaking though, which means they need to break it because there's a risk of infection and they didn't know how long it had been leaking. So after a slightly painful exam (it was my second in an hour) we were informed, rather ungracefully by a brisk nurse, that the baby needed to come out within 24 hours. WHAT? My water didn't even break! I don't even have contractions! WHAT!?!?!?!
Yes. 24 hours. That's when it hit us. We weren't leaving this hospital without a baby. Correction: I wasn't. After that, I was admitted to the hospital and went to the delivery room where I'd be until the baby was delivered, and Brad bolted home to get my bags and a sub. Yes, I was hungry, and I didn't know I wouldn't be allowed to eat... (sidenote: not a good idea. No matter how hungry you are, do NOT eat a sub hours before labour pains. You will barf from the pain.)
So I was lead into the delivery room, a spacious room with lots of windows overlooking the back of St. Joseph's oratory (not too shabby!). This is when I started texting like mad. My friends, my mom, everyone I had the cell numbers to. Partly because it didn't feel real until I shared it with others, partly because I was so dang excited, and partly because I felt alone. Brad was gone and I was in a big room about to deliver a baby.
So as I was texting all of you, nurses and doctors came in and out, asking if I needed anything, introducing themselves, and making me feel very comfortable. The doctor who would delivery Lily 7 hours later came in to introduce herself. She was lovely. Not Dr. Hall, who I was hoping would delivery Lily since she had been with me the 8 months leading up to this, but I was fine with that as soon as I met her. She and other nurses kept reminding me to "just say when" in regards to getting an epidural. But I told them, a little too proudly, "I don't think I'll be taking one".
Oh how naive I was...
Enjoy reading this so much. So many memories flood back from Nehemiah's birth. What an amazing/crazy time.
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