This is one of the few pictures of me pregnant. Next time around, I'm going all out with the pregnancy photographs, just you wait! Yes, I was eating. No, that was not my champagne (seriously).
Part IIt was Super Bowl Sunday and we had just settled in for the night after all the hoopla celebrating the Saint's big (and only) Super Bowl Championship win (!!!). I arranged my pillows that had increasingly grown in number during the last trimester of my pregnancy. I knew she was coming soon, but nothing could prepare me for what would come that night.
This was actually taken at the Super Bowl party! I think I weighed 152 lbs. Don't laugh. But isn't Dustin so cute?
I remember looking at my phone to check the time. It was 11:01 am, and my stomach had woken me up from deep sleep. I rushed to the bathroom knowing something, whatever it was and however it could, needed to come out. I did not care from what end, if you know what I mean, but my entire inside was against me and something was wrong. "Was it the chili,"I thought, "or the dozen brownies, multiple scoops of spicy bean dip, or maybe the delicious sweet cornbread?" I was crouched over, clutching my stomach, and curling my toes underneath my feet ready for action. Dustin wasn't sick but just sleeping away in his solemn slumber. I was dying. I remember closing my eyes tightly and just praying for one more good night's sleep.
As I sat there at the kitchen table with Dustin, I stared at the hole I had poked in my fried egg watching the yolk drool out. I couldn't eat. "Are you sure you want me to go to work?" he said almost asking rhetorically. "Yes, she's not coming today. I'll be fine," I answered.
With a kiss and his coffee mug, he left in his car, and I slowly started up the flight of stairs to our second floor apartment. Halfway to the top, I stopped mid step. Holding my breath, I counted to ten. Whatever that was, I'd felt it before. It was the same pain from the previous Sunday night. "Oh, Lordy," I thought, "give me the strenght!"
Going about my morning tasks, I would close my eyes every ten minutes or so, waiting for this strange feeling to go away. I called my doctor's office only to get the answering machine, and, not wanting to pay the "after office hours fee", I quickly hung up and knelt over the sofa arm.
My phone was ringing. "They're calling me back!" I popped up and saw that it was not the nurse, bu Dustin. "How are you feeling, baby?" he asked. All I could mumbled during those painful seconds was, "I...need you to come home." (Later he told me he had just gotten to his desk and decided to call. It felt like lunch time to me with the morning going by so painfully slowly.)
As he walked in, I was on the phone with sweet nurse Lisa who was telling me to wait until I couldn't bear the pain any longer. Dustin asked if I had met my threshold yet. I still didn't think she was coming that day. From what I understood, contractions would feel like a wide belt around my big tummy that was tightening for a few seconds and then releasing. That is not at all what I was feeling. For lack of better words (men stop reading here) it felt like menstrual cramps. Deep, low, unbearable menstrual cramps.
We quickly packed the hospital bag I had promised to already have ready and waited a few minutes longer. "Okay, we (breath) probably (breath) need (breath) to (breath) head (breath) to (breath) the (breath) hospital," I said to Dustin as I leaned over the sofa arm once again.
Moments after getting in the car, we started playing our "Relaxation" playlist we'd been adding to as the weeks counted down to Julip's due date. "Oh, my goodness," I thought, "today is her actual due date! How often does that happen?"
U2's A Sort of Homecoming, a song we loved because of it's application to birth, started playing. Dustin, with all of his extra adrenaline rushing, turned up the volume. Loudly. Not wanting to bust his excited bubble, I unnoticeably reached for the dial to turn it down (a lot) as he looked out the window bobbing his head away. I couldn't handle the loud music. At least not during the heightened wave of my contractions. Without a thought, I reached for the door handle white knuckles and all.
As we passed Target, Dustin looked at me with a smile. "Want some Starbuck's?"he asked almost embarrassed considering the occasion. "Sure...of course... why not," I replied, clearly in between the giant, uncomfortable waves that were now only minutes apart.
He parked, ran in for what felt like an hour, and rushed out with a venti cafe mocha and a piece of paper. "I told them my wife was in labor so they gave me this for free and a coupon for another free one," he exclaimed. "Perfect," I thought, "how appropriate!"
We finally got to the hospital but forgot what the nurses had told us during our birthing class. Were we supposed to park anywhere? Maybe drive up to the round-a-bout? Was someone going to rush out with a wheelchair for me like in the movies? We finally decided to park in the round-a-bout (wrong choice), and Dustin walked with me, arm and arm, onto the elevator and up to the fifth floor.
"Now what?" I thought as I walked up to the desk area with the nurse was hurriedly shuffling her papers. "Excuse me. I think I'm in labor," I said smiling. The corners of her mouth kinda smiled back and with raised eyebrows she handed me some papers to fill out. After completing them she motioned for me to take a seat. "Take a seat? I'm in labor, woman!"
After sitting down for mere seconds, I remembered our car. Our little car was still parked in front of the hospital and by now, it was sure to have been towed away for good. I got up, slowly, and asked with a smile, as I normally do, what to do with our car. She looked at me like I was crazy. I am crazy. "Honey, your husband will have to park it in the parking lot (duh)...and by the way, there are no rooms for you," she informed. This couldn't be happening to us. Not here, not now, not today.
(Tune in for Part II tomorrow!)
1 comment:
oh my goodness, you had to stop there!?
I was leaning forward and everything in suspense…
tomorrow, please come quickly.
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