Since I was due late August, the whole summer had been
miserable for me. I was large (larger
than I’ve ever been) and HOT all the time.
I spent the majority of the summer indoors, sweating and chugging
water. That Sunday I’d painted my
fingers and toes with hopes that would once again trigger my readiness for this
baby. We had a get together at the park
in Ames on Sunday afternoon for my mom’s birthday and it was hot and
miserable. I told my grandparents that
by Tuesday we would have a baby; I was ready.
I still wasn’t feeling any different, just over it.
I crashed on Sunday night, which is unusual for a Sunday. I could tell I was restless but
exhausted. I kept waking up and then
falling back into a deep dreamy state. I
was dreaming that I was having contractions.
About 3:30 I forced myself to get up and go to the bathroom. As I was up I started thinking I should start
timing the contractions. The doctor had
said when you are 5 minutes apart for an hour to come in. I started timing and was about 5-7 minutes
apart until 4:30. At this point I still
thought I was going to work but told Kris that he should probably stay close,
I’d been having contractions but it wasn’t too bad. He got a little crazy once again and started
rushing around. I’m not sure really what
he was doing. Making phone calls,
changing clothes, packing HIS bag. Then
the contractions started getting stronger… the plan changed.
Next plan. I would take a shower around 5; we would get PK
up early and drop him off at school about 6:30 and be on our way.
I got up, text my mom that I was having contractions, we
were fine and I was getting in the shower.
Holy smokes. That 20 minutes sped
things up a tad. By the time I got out
of the shower I was texting her to leave.
NOW. I couldn’t stand up through
a contraction. Kris was running
around. I’d sent him to fill the car
with gas, get cash. He couldn’t remember
his pin for the ATM. Wanted to know if I
knew his pin. Umm no.
Contractions were now 3 minutes apart. I’m pacing, sitting, laying down,
groaning. Nothing is working. Kris had the car loaded and about ten till
six we had to leave. We couldn’t wait
any longer and took off. We met my mom
at the edge of town. We got to the
parking garage and I couldn’t even walk across the skywalk. The pain was intense and getting worse.
We walked into the maternity center about 6:30 and the
ladies were taking their sweet time checking me in while I couldn’t even talk
to get my information out. Finally got
to a triage room where they started hooking me up. I was asking for an epidural every two
minutes. I’m pacing in a 5x5 room. I remember the nurse telling me I needed a
gown on before anything could happen and I stood up and took off all my clothes
and threw them at Kris. I was
ready. The nurse went to check me and
wasn’t very pleasant. I was 8 or 9 cm
dilated and she shoved her whole hand around trying to see if he was head
down. The pain lifted my pelvis off the
table and I was screaming “what are you doing?!?” When she left Kris said,
“that wasn’t very nice”. My response
back wasn’t very nice either…
They got me in a wheelchair and started down the other wing
of the maternity center. Turns out there
were no birthing rooms available. We got
the last room and it was a c-section room.
So it was tiny. Here we are with
3 bags, a wheelchair and two nurses trying to get into this little room.
One of the nurses kept telling the other nurse to call the
doctor, he was out a ways and I was ready.
She wasn’t calling, wasn’t calling, I’m begging for an epidural, they
keep putting me off. They are telling me
not to push, hang tight. Finally one of
them calls the doctor and he is on his way while the other breaks the news to
me that I won’t be getting an epidural.
I started crying. My whole body was convulsing with every contraction
and would just get calmed down in time for another one. I was pissed.
About 7:15 the doctor showed up and the room filled with
nurses (about ten). Each leg had a nurse
since the table was broken. I was told
to start pushing. I would try with
everything I had while everyone was yelling at me. The doctor finally saw his head and noticed
he was sideways. He tried using the
suction to turn him. The first time it
popped off of his head and hit the doctor in the face. The 2nd time he got him twisted
the right way. A few huge pushes later
the nurses were yelling at me to stop yelling and focus on pushing. I remember yelling at the doctor to just pull
him out. Finally he made his
appearance! Chas Warren was born at 7:37
AM on August 17, 2015. He was
immediately placed on my chest for me to see.
7lbs 8oz, 20 inches long. Lots of dark hair and looked just like his big
brother!
It was such a rush and went so fast. To this day I’m still in awe that I did
that. The body does amazing things.
My mom had dropped PK off at school and was there shortly
after Chas was born. She then went back
out to get PK from school to bring him back to see us. I immediately started crying when PK walked
in; my baby wasn’t so little anymore!
Our family was complete in a way I never dreamed would be possible.
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