Let me preface this with a few facts. I got Braxton Hicks contractions ALL THE TIME. No lie. Starting at about 5 months. Some days, a bit later in the pregnancy (30wks or so), I got them 3 min apart. All. Day. Long. Scary, oh yeah. So, me and B. Hicks became pretty good friends. Sometimes I didn't even notice him hanging around. You could say we were pretty tight. (Haha. Sorry, I couldn't resist!)
A month or so before my due date, I started getting very itchy on my hands, feet, belly. A condition called Cholestasis, that potentially could be harmful to the baby. My mom had it while pregnant with me, which gave me a higher risk of having it myself. Not fun at all. A week or so before my due date my midwife took a blood sample to see what was going on.
Even before I was pregnant, I knew I wanted to try and have a safe, natural and, most of all, healthy birth experience. We took Bradley Method birthing classes where we learned all about interventions, ways to naturally progress labor, and how to best prepare yourself for a natural, drug free birth. A goal of mine was to wait as long as I could to go to the hospital.
Monday, October 20th 2008. My due date. The day that had been in the front of my mind for quite some time now. The day I kept on telling myself, over and over, most likely would not be "the day". The day that, lo and behold, came and went like any other days past with nary a sign. Disappointing, yes, but I didn't let it get me down. Even though my back was achy, my bladder always full, and I couldn't put on my socks or stand up or sit down without shooting pain in my pelvis, the fact that one more day had passed meant I was only that much closer to seeing my son.
I kept waddling along. Still working at the Y. Everyone looking at me wide eyed and convinced that I was going to pop right there and ruin the new carpet, and stating "What?! They haven't induced you yet??" No sir! Not me.
Friday, October 24th. I woke up feeling the same old, same old. I didn't have work that day, so I was lazily lounging around the house. My Uncle G. stopped by with a baby gift, and then around 1pm I headed off to my scheduled doctors appointment. The nurse did her ritual: checking vitals, weight (eek!), and asked if I had been feeling any signs of labor. I said no. Oh sure, I had been getting my good ol' "Braxton Hicks" all day, but what else was new. My midwife came in, and measured me. Said he felt on the small side. About 7 lbs. Hey, sounds good to me!
She went on to tell me that my blood test had come back negatively, but that in pregnancy that certain test always came out that way. Oh ok. Makes sense. So, she wanted to get another, different, blood test done. Also, because I was sooooooo late, a whole 4 days, and because of this whole blood fiasco, she wanted to me have a non-stress test done, and if possible an ultra sound. Just to make sure that everything was peachy. Having been to Bradley classes and learned all about (early) interventions, I weighed my options. In my heart I felt that my baby was going to be absolutely fine. In my head, I didn't want to be stupid, so I agreed to do the non-stress test. I got there at 3pm, got all hooked up, and my husband, Dean, met me there. I was having "contractions" every 3 minutes lasting 20 sec, and my back was starting to ache a bit during them. I thought It was because I had been laying on my back that whole hour. I passed the test with flying colors, and although the doctors were skeptical, we went home.
At 5pm my midwife calls to say that they won't be able to get the results of the blood test back for a whole week (she was hoping to have them by that night), and she and the head doctor thought it would be best to come in right away to be induced. Seriously?! I did NOT like that options. That would ruin my plans for the evening. A barn dance at the Beinettis!
5:30pm. At this point, I finally convinced myself that I was, in fact, in early labor. I decided against being induced (tough decision!) and began getting ready for some dancing!
6:30pm. Progressing along quicker then I thought I would. Contractions become very uncomfortable, and I have to stop and breath through them. I was still getting them 3 minutes apart, as I had been for most of the day. It being my first pregnancy and all, I figured I would be laboring for quite some time, and decided instead of pacing around the house I would go on to the barn dance. That time would pass quicker if I had a distraction. We picked up my good friend, Hannah, who would be at the birth, and off we went!
Around 7:30pm we get to the dance. (I was still having contractions about every 3 min while in the car, laying in the backseat.) All the mothers, including my own, took one look at me swaying back and forth with my head down, and told Dean we were crazy for being there.
Times get a bit fuzzy here. I had other stuff to concentrate on other then the time. I'd say around 8:30pm, my contractions were now 2 minutes apart and extremely intense. I was having a lot of back labor also. I decided it was about time we left. I went to the bathroom, my dad prayed over me. I started feeling nauseous as I got in the car. My mom, who was at the dance, came with us.
The three other non-pregnant-and-not-in-labor-people in the car figured we would swing by the house to get the bags, and go right to the hospital (which was one block from our house). Sounds logical to me.....now. But then, I just wanted to be in my own bed. So, in we went. To my bed. I was having contractions every 1 minute. I began to get very emotional, and was able to recognize this as transition. After 10 min or so, It was decided by all that we should go to the hospital. Between contractions I was able to get out of bed and stand at the dresser before another one hit. At that point I felt an extreme urge to push. Oooh boy. I was getting them every 30 sec now as we made our way to the car. As we pulled up to the hospital my water breaks while in the car. I get in the wheelchair, and have a contraction while in the elevator. We come up to the lovely lady in triage who just stares at us....wait for it, wait for it......3, 2, 1 AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH! (That was me trying to scream into the pillow, but not being successful). Doors fly open. I get rushed into the first room. Get "checked" for the first time, and was fully complete. It was 9:30pm, and I started pushing right away. At 10:05pm William Dean Eaton III was born, all 8lbs 11oz of him (what happened to my 7lb baby??), and what a wonderful feeling that was!
Oh, how much my life, our life, has changed in this past year. In what seems like a blink of an eye, my little baby has grown into a strong, smart and oh so handsome "little man" as I like to call him.
Happy 1st Birthday William. I love you!