Sunday, January 15, 2012

Like a Cannonball ... part I

Sunday afternoon I thought my water started leaking. We waited it out all evening with no real contractions starting but a small gush or leak continuing randomly throughout the evening. Fearing infection, we decided if no contractions started we'd go to labor and delivery Monday morning. Monday morning came, no contractions, so I showered got all pretty and photographable for what I thought would be our baby's birthday, and we made sure our hospital stuff was ready and headed over. After several hours of waiting and a swab test, they told us that the test came back negative for amniotic fluid. I couldn't believe it.
Waiting at the hospital, take one.
I was dilated to 3cm and 80% effaced - having non-painful contractions about every 10-15 minutes. The Doctor on call (Dr. J) had me go walking for an hour. Nothing was happening. Dr. J (not my preferred doctor, but one I've seen) came and checked me. I was pretty skeptical when she felt up there and said she didn't "think" they had ruptured. So, they sent us home around 12:30pm. I was pretty frustrated. I ate away my frustration with a large sized value meal at Mickey D's for lunch. Eric was home so we just hung out all afternoon, and evening.

Around 5:30pm Eric and I discussed whether or not he needed to call work and tell them he'd be there in the morning. He wanted to wait "just in case" and I didn't think he should wait because I didn't forsee anything changing in the next 12 hours. His stubbornness won over my pessimism and he waited to call.

About 7:30pm Monday night, we sat down for dinner. I got up to get some milk and felt a really strong contraction. The first one that made me stop and wait it out - it was different than what I had imagined a contraction feeling like. A lot more burning and a lot less pulling apart feeling. At that time I felt a small gush - much like all the other times, and we continued eating. I started feeling more of those types of contractions over the next couple of hours, but they were usually only about 30 seconds and weren't super regular. So, Eric and I put in a movie - The Blindside. I enjoyed the movie, admiring Sandra Bullock's transformation. I kept experiencing contractions, and before I realized it, Eric was able to time them by how often and how hard I squeezed his hand. Periodically he'd pipe in, "They're about 7 minutes apart now..." By 10 pm the intensity of the contractions had gotten pretty severe, but they still weren't in a real pattern - sometimes 7 minutes apart sometimes 12. Eric kept suggesting we head to the hospital, but I was determined not to get sent home again.

Just as Big Mike is telling the NCAA lady he wants to go to Ole Miss because that's where his family  went, I had to got up because I couldn't stand sitting during my contraction. Then, very shortly after that one, I had such a bad contraction that I had to lie down on our bed. Eric came in, kneeled beside me in my half-aware state and calmly, but firmly suggested we should go to the hospital. Seeing how stubborn and ridiculous I was being, I finally relented. Looking far less beautiful than when we'd gone to the hospital that morning - and at this point not even caring if I was wearing a bra, we scurried around in between contractions and were able to get into the van. 

Thank goodness our car ride was only 5 minutes down the road. And thank goodness Eric stayed calm and didn't take the corners like his usual cavalier self.