Last year at this time, I was anxiously waiting to meet my baby girl. That is, I was waiting to be induced. I believe I mentioned it here.
And now, in about a day, my newborn will be one years old.
As I did with Girlie and Boyo, I have to share BabyGirlie's birth story... but I waited a year, so I could write about it with rose colored glasses.
My husband and I were supposed to be at the hospital at 7 am so that I could be induced. I was 39 weeks pregnant, to the day, and I had been on bedrest for the past month because my OB was a sadist. Or conservative.
I got up at 5, took a shower, ate breakfast, made sure my bag was packed, and threw on my running shoes to go for a walk. I was hoping that walking would help speed things along. I walked for an hour. I was still one centimeter dilated when I got to the hospital.
We make it to the hospital, and I get checked in. Three hours later, I'm in bed, ready to get this party started, but I'm more than a little nervous. To say that my nurse seems incompetent would be an understatement. I had to show her how to use the computer. She tells me she is going to start me at 1 drop of pitocin. I tell her that this is my 3rd time having pitocin and that 1 drop won't do anything. The nurse informs me that she knows what she is doing. I tell the nurse that I know my body. She sets me up at 1 drop an hour. I ask to see my doctor. My husband tells me that since this is going to take 3 days, he is going to take a nap.
After two hours, I tell the nurse that my blood sugar feels low and ask her to test me. She does and sure enough, I'm really low. I ask for food. She tells me she can't feed me while I'm in labor. I tell her that I'm not in labor because 1 drop of pitocin an hour does nothing for me. She gets me a cracker. Not crackers. A cracker. My husband rolls his eyes, mutters under his breath, glares at the nurse, and then goes to the cafeteria to get me a sandwich.
An hour later, with nothing happening, the doctor comes in. He gets me a new nurse, who gets me started at pitocin at a reasonable dosage that will make things happen. My doctor then breaks my water and leaves. I won't see him again until 2 seconds before my daughter is born, when he catches her, tells me I did a good job, and leaves again.
I have now been at the hospital for five hours. My mom texts me to see if I have had the baby yet. I consider throwing my phone against the wall. My husband snatches it out of my hand.
After about an hour on the pitocin, things start happening. I can feel labor starting and it is not pleasant. An hour after that, my husband calls the anesthesiologist so I can get my epidural. I love my husband, but I love the anesthesiologist more.
As soon as I get my epidural, I go to sleep for five hours. I wake up at shift change. At 8 pm the nurse comes in and introduces herself. We look at each other and say: "It's YOU!" It was the nurse who took such awesome care of me when I was in the hospital on bedrest. She is awesome.
She checks me and says I'm probably going to have the baby around 3 in the morning. I tell her that I'm going to have the baby before midnight, since I want my kids' birthdays to be on 12, 10, and 14, respectively. My husband tells her that I am just OCD enough to do it. She smiles and says she's seen stranger things. She gets my husband dinner (told you she was awesome) and leaves. I go back to sleep for 3 hours and I wake up around 11:30.
I'm watching the contraction monitor and I'm feeling strange. Not like my epidural has worn off, just strange. I throw a pillow at my husband and wake him up, telling him to talk to me. He tries to start a conversation. I tell him that he's dumb. He tries to change the subject. I tell him he's stupid. He sighs and goes to get the nurse. He tells the nurse that he thinks I'm going through transition. I tell him he's an ass. The nurse smiles and checks me -- yup, I'm going to give birth before 12.
They get me set up and the room floods with people -- two nurses, the doctor, the baby nurse, the pediatrician, and the lactation consultant. I ask them to please hurry, because I am having a baby before 12am. My husband says that I actually said, "Hurry up! I have 4 minutes to get this kid out!"
At 11:55pm, I start pushing. She crowns at 11:56. How do I know this? Because I am watching the clock. I am determined, people. I am having a baby on the 14th!
I look down and see her dark black hair and start laughing -- I had bet my husband that she would have dark hair, and he had said no, she would be blonde like the older two. I don't know if it's the laughing or the pushing, but the baby is born at 11:59pm. Three of the nurses are in shock that I was able to have her before 12 and in 3 pushes. My doctor comments that I didn't even tear. Awesome nurse lady (I can't believe I forgot her name!) tells me that I can come back next year because I do so well at giving birth.
The baby is laid on my chest and stares up at me with very solemn eyes. The lactation consultant comes over to give me a hand, but the baby is all ready nursing. "I wonder if she will be our easy one?" I ask my husband. He groans and tells me that I just jinxed it.
But I was right about more than her black hair (which is now blonde, so my husband won't give me credit for that). She was our easiest baby to date.
And awesome nurse lady was right too -- I'll be back at the hospital in October giving birth to Baby B.