Friday afternoon, I was miserable. I remember as well as my TimeHop status that posted just the other day. I thought for sure I was in labor. In fact, I got a hospital stay out of it because the midwife thought I was starting labor too. Nope. False alarm. An Ambien pill to rest and then I was sent on my way.
Sunday night was miserable all the way into Monday morning.
Then, it all REALLY began December 14th morning, promptly at 6am. We gathered our things and ventured to the hospital in a beautiful, crazy snowstorm in the freezing cold weather. Little did I know what I was in for--my little man would not make his appearance until 4:15pm after 15 minutes of pushing.
Little did I also know that this labor would by far be easier than the ones ahead in my life.
Flash forward.
30 months later...
It was May 28th, my due date. I ventured to the hospital in hopes my midwife would say, "You've suffered enough. Let's get this little guy out of there."
Yep. No such luck. I hadn't dilated, and my cervix hadn't softened.
On June 5th, some 8 hot, terrible, miserable days later, I finally lost my darn mucus plug. It was 6am. I truly felt fine, so I just went back to bed.
At 7am, my husband had just gotten home from third shift, and I thought I would just be spending the day taking care of our 30 month old son. Yep, nope.
Finally at 9am and by this point, I was completely miserable and contracting every 3-5 minutes, I made the call to the doctor's office.
"M'am, is this your first child."
"No. It is my second and I am 8 days past my due date."
"M'am, can you come straight to labor and delivery."
"Ugghhhh. My husband just got home from work and I was going to let him sleep for a while longer."
"M'am, this baby could come at any minute. You need to be here now."
"Okay. I will get him up." Boy, who was I kidding? Getting my hubby out of bed after a third-shift night was like pulling teeth.
"Greg, get up. I am in labor. We have to go to the hospital."
"Katie, it will be another day before that baby comes. Go back to sleep."
"Greg, really. I need to go now. I called the doctor."
"Katie, just five more minutes. Leave me alone."
By this point, I am in extreme pain and have reserved myself to the fact that I may indeed be delivering at home, in the car, or just plain without my husband, who had now settled himself back into a Pooh Winter-like slumber.
"Come on, Colli. Let's go to the car." I gathered up my overnight bag and my 2 1/2 year old's overnight bag and between contractions swiftly loaded him into the car. In the meantime, I told my husband I would be making the trip to the hospital with or without him.
"Kate, I have to drop my squad car off for an oil change before we go to the hospital. If you are having this baby, I need to be sure this gets done. Can you drive yourself and meet me at the shop, so I can drop off the squad?"
In my head, I am seriously contemplating slaughtering this man, the father of my children and my supposed beloved husband.
"Sure."
So, I start off down the road, timing my contractions, which by the way are now 2-3 minutes apart. I drive to my in-law's house and have decided I can do this, I just won't think about it. It won't hurt that bad, right. Epidural. Yeah, there probably isn't enough time for that, so I can just convince myself it doesn't hurt. Millions of women have given birth without an epidural.
Holy crap, this hurts sooooo bad.
"Hi, Sara. "
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, it's 'Oh My GOD!' Katie!"
"Are you okay?"
"Yes. I am in 'OH MY GOD!' labor! Can you talk to me so I don't wreck my car."
"Where is Greg?"
"He is driving behind me."
"What the hell? Why?"
"Oil 'Oh MY GOD!' change."
"Was that another one?"
"Yes. Oh here comes another 'OH MY GOD!'"
Yes, the conversation carried on this way until we made it to the shop and Greg jumped into the passenger side. Yes, you read that right. The man was not in his right mind, and, at that point, I decided I didn't care if I lived or died. I just wanted this baby out and I wanted to be in the hospital NOW!
By this point, I told Greg that we would be divorcing after the baby was delivered. And yes, I hated him and I was soooo pissed. If I didn't get an epidural, this marriage was OVER!
The poor man took a beating with my words, but when we finally made it to the hospital, I was only dilated to a 3; however, for me, this was a lot of progress. I was almost to a 4, and yes, I could still have an epidural. By this point, it was almost noon.
Once I got the epidural, the rest I hardly remember. My water broke, and it was time to push.
10 minutes of pushing, and Connor was out by 5:10. Yep, we made it...but I swore he was it. No more babies for me.
Until...
