So, it's August, and I'm way pregnant. I'm anxiously awaiting the arrival of our little one, but still way nervous about what that would mean! However, I had enough wits about me to realize that we needed to stock up on groceries, so on August 17 we drove an hour to Fort Polk to make groceries at the commissary. That morning I started timing some contractions I had.
No biggie, I thought. I'm still four days away from my due date, and he's my first baby, so I probably have another week.
We get to Fort Polk, and my contractions worsen while we ate lunch at a Huddle House (everywhere else was filled up!!). However, I convince hubby that everything is fine, and we go on with our plans.
Then it hit me. And I'm glad it hit me in the freezer section because I never knew what a hot flash was until then! The worst contraction all day had come, and I began to worry. Hubby began to worry a whole lot more. We finished our grocery shopping and went home.
More really bad contractions. I called the hospital and spoke with a nurse. "Oh you're not ready just yet, honey! Wait until the contractions are 3-5 minutes apart." That's great, I thought, and again I reassure hubby that all is well. I kept timing, and the contractions were erratic at best, not coming in at regular intervals. I ask hubby for some Tylenol, and then I went to bake some cookies.
That's right. I baked cookies.
They told me in the child-birth class that the nurses would be taking care of me the entire time, and I would only see my doctor in passing as she "caught" the baby. So I thought, well, if they're going to be taking care of me, I might as well take care of them.
I baked the cookies and more bad contractions came. Hubby asks if I want to take a warm bath, and I'm like, sure - why not. These tylenol aren't doing a thing for me. I then ask him to go ahead and take our dog to the neighbor's house because we might be going to the hospital within 24 hours if the pain didn't east up. I was not going to be THAT woman who gave birth on her tempur-pedic mattress!
So he took the dog, and when he got back, I said we need to go, like now.
So, we went. Contractions were still not regular, and I figured it would be better to be checked just in case so our little man wasn't in distress. The hospital was an hour away, and the contractions got worse. We got there, and I remembered the cookies but not my purse. While hubby was gone to get it, the nurses kept asking me ridiculous questions, like :how do you spell your name?" Seriously? Could you not wait and look at my driver's license. Oh wait, here's hubby with my purse. Oh what's that? You still want ME to tell you? I no longer want to give you cookies.
But I did, of course, because she was the one taking care of me.
Anyway, we get to the room, and what do you know. I'm 8 centimeters dilated. For those of you who might not get it, you pretty much give birth anywhere from 8 - 10 centimeters. So basically, it was GO time! The first thing out of my mouth was, "Is it too late for drugs?!"
And yes, it was.
And then what do you know. My doctor was there on call and stayed with me the whole time! Good thing too because just a few minutes after getting in the bed, little man was really to make his debut!
All in all, I was in labor 12 hours, and my precious son was born about 2 hours after getting to the hospital: ) Hubby was absolutely awesome. He did everything he was asked (or politely commanded), and he took care of me and our little one the whole time. I could not have asked for a better husband in the whole entire universe!
Thank you for letting me share, and I hope you enjoyed! I promise to return to the Be Fruity series soon!!
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