So, lets start with how much I love sleep and how much I secretly asked God that I would not be in labor during the night...and how God did not deem that a necessary prayer to answer...and so it was that I started having contractions around 3am on Sunday morning.
Luckily the contractions were not terrible, just not particularly conducive to sleep either and so I entertained myself by listening to several "What You Missed in History Class" podcasts and tried hard to rest. And so that's how we spent Sunday...me having contractions about every 8 to 10 minutes and spending the rest of the time reading ( Brett read Harry Potter: Book 4 out loud to me) and basically trying to stay comfortable. I wouldn't say the contractions were terrible but they were definitely the kind you had to stop whatever you were doing to get through and so I figured we couldn't be too far away from things progressing..however, by Sunday evening I had given up hope of having a baby that day..it just didn't seem possible since my contractions were just NOT getting closer together.
By Sunday evening I was super de duper cranky and I finally just had a really good cry were I told Brett and God that I didn't want to do this anymore. I mean, it was like having a giant screw in my stomach that got turned every few minutes but never actually GOT ANYWHERE. And then my contractions bumped up to every 5 minutes. WOO HOO! That's what when they told me I could go to the hospital! Surely they would tell me that I was SUPER CLOSE to having this baby!! After all...I'd been doing this whole "contraction business" for 17 hours or so that should be worth something!
And so Brett made himself a cup of coffee and I timed my contractions and got really annoyed that he was taking so long.
Of course, now I know that Brett could have made lattes for half of Fort Benning and we would STILL have had plenty of time to get to the hospital.
But, side note...you know what is NOT FUN!?! Having contractions in the car. Yeah. Sitting or lying was pretty much the LAST position I wanted to be in.
So Hospital arrival number one: The bad sign was probably the fact that I was able to smile and be civil with the doctor who checked me out. Yeah...now I know that when you're really in labor there is no time for civil.
We were sent home only 2 cm dilated and super deflated spirits. Here it was 11pm and I was having contractions every three minutes and it looked like I had another sleepless night ahead....
Stay tuned for more...Part 2: The Second Night
4 comments:
If I hadnt had a baby in the not TERRIBLY distant past ... and I mean not distant enough to remember how terribly exhausted I was for days afterwards and how I really didnt read Facebook comments even though knowing they were there was fabulous because I was so tired ... (In fact I think Im still a little tired from then) I would be a little tiny bit upset that you stopped writing this before you got to the part that you (apparently) broke down and (like the rest of us wimpy people who I KNEW all this time you were a part of!!) got an epidural.
P.S. If the above is really spelled wrong and has a lot of errors it's because the text is really tiny and I dont have my glasses on. It's like writing with your eyes closed.
Knowing how much you love your sleep - this does not sound like a fun story so far. But you did get a baby at the end of it all, and that's pretty awesome :-) Louise
I'm pretty proud of you for sticking it out, I mean you didn't have a ton of choices because Ransom had to come out one way or another, but it's an exciting story and by the time he's two you will probably forget how awful it was and want to have another! :D
YES! Contractions in the car are from the devil!
Post a Comment