Hazel's Birth Story - Part One

It felt like deja vu.  My mom had flown in the day before, and we were waiting.  Waiting for the arrival of our sweet baby.  The last time we were in this situation, she missed meeting our baby by less than 24 hours.  I have late babies.

It was January 4th - my brother's and sister's shared birthday - and my due date was just one day away.  My Stud was on his way home from work.  I had already talked to him on the phone once, but I called him back.

"When you get here, I need you to finish packing our bags and throw them in the car.  We're going to be late for community group, but I don't want to risk not having everything with us.  Just in case.  I'm having some pretty good contractions."

We were busy getting ready to walk out the door as soon as Daddy came home.  The contractions had started at about 5 p.m., and while they were ten minutes apart, they felt like the real thing.  Plus, I had moved my bowels 3 or 4 times in the past two hours.  That tipped me off more than anything else that my body was gearing up.  That afternoon, I hastily mailed off some (late) birthday cards, packed up our Christmas tree, and a few other bizarre "I have to do this before the baby comes" items.  Like wash and straighten my hair. ;-)

6:30 p.m.  We were already quite late for our community group (an in-home Bible study), so my friend J. called while we were en route to check in - make sure I wasn't in labor or something.  I think I might be, but we're coming. Because I might not be... Yes, we'll be there in a few minutes. 

I was sure enough by the time we arrived that I didn't eat dinner.  I really wanted frito pie, but it was the sort of thing that might not sit well during such an event.  So I ate a cookie.   Because cookies sit well.  ;-) Deja vu once again.  9 minutes.  Bible study started.  8 minutes.  I stood because sitting felt awful.

We need to go.

8:15 p.m.  I waited in triage longer than I liked waiting.  I had to lay in a bed to be monitored.  My contractions became irregular when I sat there.  I could tell that they didn't exactly believe that I was in labor.  Darn.  This is the part where I was supposed to act like I was buried under pain, and I forgot about that genius plan.  You have to be in a LOT of pain before they pay too much attention to you in triage.  Or so it would seem. 

I peeked my head out into the hallway and asked how long I had to wait for a room.  I warned them about how quickly my last daughter was born.  I reminded them that this was my THIRD baby.  My mom took the girls to find a snack down the hall.  She reiterated our concerns.  I think my husband took a turn bothering the receptionist as well.

Finally, they checked me.

"Oh!  You're dilated to a SIX!  Your contractions are pretty sporadic, but apparently that doesn't mean anything for you!"

Apparently not.

Click to read Part Two.