Monday, September 22, 2008

Ooopsie Baby!

So, since my birthday, a lot has happened. To the point that the details of my wonderful birthday date night with my Sweet Husband seem out of place and tame. We went to another show, some of the same performers, and ate come more BBQ at a local place that was way cute (The Swallow in the Hollow in Roswell), and there was an altercation with a drunk guy who used the ladies' room at one point, and repeatedly elbowed my husband in the back of the head. And then things got really exciting.

That was the 12th, last Friday. This past Thursday, about a week later, I was at the tail end of a really, really busy week. Like, super busy: I'd taught four classes at Beehive, and had four orders to process and get out, including one wholesale order to our retail location in Nashville. And then I had some weird, pregnancy-related symptoms. Not very concerning, but weird, the kind of stuff that happens toward the end, right before the baby arrives. I didn't really think much of it, just played it off as Braxton-Hicks kinda stuff, nothing to worry about. I always work to avoid being That New Mother who flips out about the littlest thing and is forever nagging the doctor. This isn't my first square dance, after all.

Friday, things were a little weirder. I'd had a ton of little practice contractions, nothing that hurt AT ALL, just little stuff here and there that made me feel as though I was smuggling a bowling ball in my blouse. But more often than I'd expect after 33.8 weeks gestation.

Saturday I was still having them, but they were uncomfortable--not painful, just not invisible the way Braxton-Hicks usually are. But those little practice guys can be ouchie, too, and according to the Internets, moms with more than one baby notice them more, so I looked up False Labor, met all the criteria, called my doc just to be sure, and she was unconcerned. I wondered a little when I had to leave the dinner table and go lie down to make the contractions--false ones, I was sure, and so was my doc--slow down and not be painful. But not very, since they did, in fact slow down and become less painful. They didn't stop, but I was drinking fluids and doing all the right things, and my doctor HAD told me not to worry. So I went to bed.

I woke up four times between 5 and 8 with actual pain. Now, to be fair, I had had NO pain from when we went to bed around 10 until I got up to pee at 5. I figured, like my doctor and the Internets had said, that changing position had aggravated my body and that these were just strong Braxton-Hicks. No worries--roll over and go back to sleep.

We got up to go to church at 8. I almost didn't go, thinking maybe I should lie down some more and see if I could make the "aggravation" ease. I'd gone from uncomfortable to actually kinda painful at that point, and was wondering if maybe I should call the doctor again. I was no longer worried about being That New Mom. The pains subsided, though, for almost an hour, so I went with my family and sat with my Sweet Husband, and things were great again: 20 minutes with no pains, and I thought, "See? Nothing to worry about. Nothing to see here, people, move along!" And then I had another one. I noted the time, discreetly, on my cell. And another one, this one kinda pretty painful. I noted the time again: 13 minutes. And another: 10 minutes, and I had to breathe a little through it. Hmmm. And another: 4 minutes. And one more: 7 minutes. Now, I want to point out that everything I'd read and been told indicated that if the contractions were (1) irregularly spaced and (2) not strengthening, then it was likely False Labor. I truly, truly did not believe that this was labor--just something that wasn't right. On the way home from church, I told my husband I was going to call again, and that they almost certainly would want me to Go In and Be Checked.

I was right. The short version, since this is getting to be a long story, is that we got there around 1 p.m. I kept waiting for them to pat me on the head, call me a silly woman, and send me on home. After they checked and I was definitely contracting and dilated 2 cm, I was waiting for them to give me some Magic Bullet Medication and pat me on the head and send me on home. After 3 doses of the Magic Bullet and checking to find that I was 4 cm, I kept waiting for them to give me some other more aggressive medication and pat me on the head, assign bed rest, and send me on home. When they gave me painkillers and I thought the contractions had gone away but was told that I just wasn't feeling them anymore but they were still there, and that I was at 7 cm, I waited for them to pat me on the head and tell me what we would try next. They said, "We'll just watch to how you progress."

Huh?? Progress? What? At some point, the painkillers wore off. I was in Actual Pain. I was gripping the handrail through contractions with occasional moaning. I was at 8 cm. My lovely nurse came in, and I told her I needed more painkillers. The doctor recommended a different medication, since the one I'd had took three hours to wear off and "we don't want that in your system when you deliver, so we want you to have one that lasts less time."

I'm sorry, what was that part in the middle? "When you deliver??" Whatyoutalkin'bout, doc?

I tell the doctor that if I were at this point but were 38+ weeks along, I'd tell my husband, "Honey, it's time." He said, "Uh-huh..." with the subtext, "And where does that line of reasoning lead us?"

I said, "Maybe I should get the epidural--I mean, I may really be in labor."

His response: "Yeah..."
His subtext: "We've all known this for a while; we were just waiting for you to figure it out."

As it all sank in, I had to cry my way (briefly) to let go of the illusion I'd hung on to: that I was going home pregnant. Not gonna happen, not this time.

So here were are:

Five pounds, two ounces, seventeen inches, six weeks early. Not too shabby, considering. Good thing I'd packed on some weight the last four weeks! We're both healthy, just really, really surprised. Little boy, in case you wondered--no name yet, though. We picked one, but are having a hard time committing to it for real.

Things to do now:

  • get baby to maintain body temp so we can be released

  • find a maid to come clean behind my tiolets before the mom and mom-in-law arrive at my house

  • help my husband find his patience with the girls the next couple days while he plays single dad

  • reschedule all my classes at Beehive, reschedule my upcoming trunk show

  • take a shower!

  • name our new baby!

Posting likely to be light the next week or so, but then to resume its regular pace. Hope y'all are well!


dana said...

Wow! Um, you had your baby! How crazy and exciting. I'm glad you didn't shirk off all the contractions you were having (uh, like you could, considering the pain).
Congratulations!! I'm sure he's beautiful and soooo tiny. Awe. :)
Good luck with the next few weeks (and months). I have huge respect for people with more kids than me!

Kari said...

What a sweet surprise for you! Congrats on your new little boy!

Leigh said...

Wow, what a story! I'm glad everyone is okay. I would have freaked out a little at the idea of having the little one at 34 weeks, but sounds like he was just ready to come out and is doing fine. So did you end up getting the epidural or were you too far along? How did the actual delivery go? I love Swallow at the Hollow. I grew up in Roswell. I wonder if Greenwoods on Green Street is still across the street and still owned by the same people. That's a great place too, or at least was then. said...

Absolutely precious. But I'm sure you've heard that a million times already!