Today Lucy is 6 months. (Can you believe it?? I sure can't). And while a post is pending celebrating this milestone, I wanted to take a moment to record the details of her birth, since I haven't done it yet and I wanted it for my own records. For some strange reason, I find reading others' birth stories fascinating, so if you are one of those, please read on. However, if you are not one of those and you are uncomfortable with the gory details, then please do NOT read on.
It was October 12. Only one day to due date. I was beyond ready to give birth to this little lady, yet as far as I could tell I hadn't had a single contraction. Besides large and bloated, I really couldn't sleep, due to the constant pressure on my bladder and my lower back pain. My own doctor was out of town (which is ironic b/c I switched to that practice for the sole purpose of only seeing ONE doctor and having that SAME doctor deliver me. But of course, my doctor went on vacation for the week of my due date and for ONLY THE WEEK OF MY DUE DATE. The nerve). So, the morning before, I went to an entirely different practice and met with an entirely different doctor whom I had never even laid eyes on before. There, she told me that I was slowly dilating (up to a 3ish, she claimed) and that she'd schedule an ultra sound for two days later when I was past my due date (I begged and begged her to induce me--I really didn't want to have to wait for my doctor to return to do it). But alas, she laughed it off and said, "I'll see you Thursday."
That night, I went to bed--convinced I would never have this baby. Josh and I had been sleeping on the floor of the guest room, since that bed was far more comfortable than our king-sized bed. I got up to go to the bathroom--and I mean really go to the bathroom--at 12:54 (I remember because I looked at the clock). I was uncomfortable and wasn't sure if it was contractions or just indigestion. I went back to bed, but about 15 minutes later I had to go to the bathroom again and then again and again. This had happened when I was in labor with Will, so I was wondering if I was in labor or if, again, it was just a bad case of the runs. I decided to hop in the shower and see if the pain I was feeling was contractions. Sure enough, I would feel minor pain every 2-3 minutes for about 30 seconds to one minute in duration. I debated on whether or not to call the doctor because, though frequent, the contractions were more uncomfortable than painful. Josh just went back to bed because he thought there was no way I was in labor (that's what he did when I was in labor with Will, too. Josh claimed that there was no way I could be in labor since I was the world's biggest wuss and I didn't even seem that uncomfortable). But I just had this impression to call the doctor. At this point it was 2:00 and so I called the doctor and our nice neighbors to come over to be with Will.
We arrived at the hospital at 2:15 and while we were checking in, I started to have strong enough contractions that I had to sit down. By the time we got checked in, walked down to the labor and delivery rooms and changed into a hospital gown, it was 2:30. The labor and delivery nurse started to ask me questions and fill out the paperwork. At this point, I was really uncomfortable and I kept begging her, "Please just check me. Call the anesthesiologist. I need my epidural." I had decided long ago that this would be my one and only birth plan: call the anesthesiologist the second we arrived to hook me up for an epidural (b/c with Will, I almost delivered so quickly that I didn't have time for an epidural. Luckily, I just barely got one with Will but I didn't want to cut it so close this time). However, the nurse was NOT on board with my birthing plan. I kept begging her to check me, all the while having strong contractions, and she kept reassuring me that I was fine and wanted to ask me such mundane questions as my social security number and medical history. Finally, I got mad and yelled, "Check me NOW!" As with most laboring women, my manners went out the window. Exasperated, she said, "Fine, I'll check you," but she acted as though she was doing me the world's biggest favor (if you couldn't tell, the nurse was NOT my favorite--I don't even remember her name). Well, it was a good thing she checked me b/c she discovered I was fully dilated and she could see the baby's head. When she told me this, I yelled at her, "I told you! Please, please, please call the anesthesiologist." Of course, she told me it was far too late for that to which I replied, "Well, I'm NOT having this baby without the drugs. I never signed up for this! I never signed up for this!" (Josh told me later that I just kept yelling this over and over). In fact, I was so insistent that I wasn't having the baby without drugs, I closed my legs, proclaiming no baby was coming until they hooked me up with some modern medicine.
Well, I was wrong because whether I liked it or not, the baby was coming. I had the urge to push, but the lovely nurse told me I needed to wait, since the doctor wasn't there yet. While everyone was busy getting ready for the birth (and ignoring me), my water broke, as in gushing-across-the-room broke. It was pleasant. That was at 3:00. The nurse called in the on-call doctor, who pulled on his gloves and got ready to deliver the baby. Just as I was about to give birth, my doctor (well, my stand-in doctor) arrived to deliver the baby. After about 6 pushes, Lucy arrived at 3:15 a.m. on October 12. I had the baby within one hour from arriving at the hospital. It was fast, furious and a crazy ride. My doctor told me if there ever is another baby, they will probably have to induce me so I will be able to make it to the hospital on time (Will's birth was pretty quick, too, especially for a first time birth). I told my doctor, if ever there is another baby I will have the anesthesiologist on speed-dial and walk around for the last few weeks of pregnancy with an IV in my arm so I'm ready and rollin' for that epidural.
The first thing I thought of when they handed me Lucy Lu was, "Wow, it's a mini-Will." Then I checked her parts to make sure she was a girl--they had promised me a girl. Then my next thought was, "I can't believe I just did that without any drugs." Really, I was in awe of myself because that was NEVER my intention. And I won't lie--if I have my way, that will never, never happen again. I have a strong testimony of modern medicine; I believe I was put on this earth at this time so that I could be a recipient of said medicine. End of story. Amen.
And that's the story of little Lu Lu's birth.