Tuesday, November 6, 2012

The Hospital

Today Little Liam Man is one month old.  So writing this is a little bittersweet, knowing that it is now history.


7:30PM-  As we were driving to the hospital, it was slowly starting to sink in that this WAS happening.  But I had this terrible thought in the back of my head- what if I'm not really in labor?  What if they send me home?  Up to this point, I hadn't told anyone we were going just in case this WAS the case.  I didn't want to get anyones hopes up.  Especially mine.

I felt really small and really foolish checking into the hospital, "I think I'm in labor?  I was told to come here?"  The nurses station looked like a hen session- not very busy on that Friday night.  They took me to the antepartem room and I took off my outfit and put on a robe and the nurse did an internal.  "You're not dilated enough, maybe 2 cms?  You're only about 40% effaced." she said.  "They're probably going to send you home.  Let me call the on call doctor."

My heart just broke.  Andy held my hand.  I felt embarrassed.  "Why would TWO doctors tell you that you were going to have the baby tonight and then ONE nurse tell you differently?  Just calm down and we'll see what the doctor says."  I made him promise me we'd go for ice cream on the way home.  He obliged.

The on call doc was one from my practice, as I expected.  She suggested I walk the halls until she got there and then she'd make a decision.  45 minutes later I was back on the bed with my knees up.  She determined I was truly 4 cms dilated and 90% effaced.  "In fact, I could pop your bag of waters with my finger right now!  But let's get you admitted first."  Dr. Berich has seen me in the office since I was 16.  She reminisced about watching me grow from a young lady into a beautiful woman.  I was immediately sure this was the right thing to do. The membranes didn't seem like a big deal any more.

"I'm scared.  I'm sorry."  I told the L and D nurse (I swore I wouldn't forget her name for all of eternity...but...)  "Stop apologizing.  We'll get you through this."  Turns out she had three children of her own.  Her husband was a doctor.  She was from the west.

The phlebotomist came to put in my IV.  This was the worst IV I have ever gotten.  They put it at a stupid location on my wrist, and then she hit an artery or something and blood went everywhere.  She had to change my bed.  Andy encouraged me not to look at it and just focus on him- which I did.

9:30PM-   When Dr. Berich came in to break my water, I think my blood pressure was probably a zillion over a billion.  I was hooked up to a fetal monitor and a heart monitor and my blood pressure was being taken every 30 seconds (or so it seemed.  My arm was sore for a few days after.)  She inserted this crochet-like hook "up in there" and there was this burst of pressure and then it was like I couldn't stop peeing.  It was warm and smelled funny, and I felt awkward doing all this in a bed.  I laid really still, because I felt dirty.  Every time I would move or cough or laugh, more would come out.  It was truly uncontrollable.

Andy went to the car to get our mountain of labor supplies.  I made him swear to me that he'd be right back.  No sense running now!

Just a shout out to nurses everywhere- you guys are amazing.  I'd never been in the hospital before, and the nurses just rocked.  The nurse brought me pads, helped me put these crazy underwear on and never batted an eye.  Pretty sure this wasn't her first delivery...  She dimmed the lights and encouraged me to sleep until the contractions started.

Yeah. Right.  But Andy clearly took her seriously.  The poor guy was so nervous.  And his back was hurting him so badly.  But he was such a trooper and I loved him so much at that very minute.

I kept staring at the nursery attached to our room, imagining my screaming, slimy son to be there in a few hours.
And then.  The contractions started.