could be it. At around 4am February 18th, things really kicked into gear. I tried to be as quiet as I could as I kept timing my contractions. At 5:30 am, I was having contractions every 6 and a half minutes. The pain was ridiculous, but I’m also a whimp, so I’m sure a normal woman would have been fine. I called my doctor, hoping he would tell me to go to the hospital so I could get my drugs. No such luck. He told me to call back when my contractions were 5 minutes apart. Um… beg pardon? You mean I have to endure MORE of this pain before I can get my
epidural? Truth be told, I looked at Kyle and told him, “If I miss my window of
opportunity for the epidural because of this, that doctor will die a slow and
painful death. So will your hand.”
About two and a half hours later, I finally hit the 5 minute mark. We started
packing up Chase while calling the doctor to tell him I hit the 5 minute mark,
I’m getting my drugs. Finally receiving the okay to head to the hospital, we
grabbed Chase and took him to his great grandparents and then off to the
hospital. Before I continue, let me put something into perspective. From my
house to Chase’s great grandparents is about a mile and a half. There are 3
lights and about 30 potholes, speed-bumps, and dips. From their house to the
hospital is about 2.5 miles. If any of you have driven on Hampden Ave. in
Colorado during rush hour, you know it can be a nightmare. Especially around the
Santa Fe intersection. That’s exactly where we got stuck. Longest 20 minutes of
my life. I had the seat leaned back, both hands on the oh-shit grip above my
head, and I probably made some of the most interesting noises while telling
(well, more yelling than telling) Kyle to find a way around.
9am and we arrive in Labor and Delivery. I get changed, slither my way into
bed, and wait. And wait. And wait. They ask a million questions, check my
cervix, start and IV, and almost make it out of the room. I quickly stop
“I already know for a fact that I’m going to want an epidural. And I know I’m
going to want it ASAP.” The nurse smiles and assures me that she will let them
know. Meanwhile, I’m squeezing the crap out of Kyle’s hand, staring him in the
eye, trying to breath, and trying not to cream bloody murder through another
intense contraction. An hour later, the numb, warm-fuzzy feeling spreads through
my legs as the epidural kicks in. Oh sweet, sweet drugs, you are my
friend. (And, yes. I’m well aware I sound like a drug addict. When it comes
to child-birth and intense pain, I will turn straight druggie in a heartbeat.
I’m not ashamed to say I’m a whimp and need drugs.)
About 1:30pm, my mom shows up. As happy and as thrilled as I am to see her,
I’m in tears. The epidural and mass amounts of hormones coursing through me has
made me start shaking uncontrollably and cry like I’m dying. She immediately
plants herself in the rocking chair next to my bed, kicking Kyle out of the way,
and grabs my hand. She didn’t let go almost the entire time she was there. At
this point, I’m about 7.5 cm dilated, 100% effaced, and Sky has already dropped
completely. Within the next hour, I’m at 9cm. And that’s where I stall.
With Chase, I stalled at 7cm. I stalled for two hours. We almost had to
have a C-section, but Chase all of a sudden got a swift kick from
somewhere and started moving again. The same thing was happening again. I was
tripping at the finish line. I was literally 1cm away from victory, and I
freakin’ stall! I push the “gimmie more” button on my epidural line… 3 times
before Skylar started moving again. And when she did, she didn’t waste
time, just like her brother.
As I approached 10cm, I could feel the change. Intense pressure, pretty
spectacular contractions even with the epidural, and just the gut feeling
that I was close. This was it. I was finally going to meet my daughter.
The nurse checked me, and then promptly called for the doctor, knowing that
it was going to take him a bit to arrive. Until then, I was supposed to show
them how good I could push. I could push awesome apparently. After only two
three counts of pushing, they told me to stop. Don’t push. Just hang on. I
look at Kyle on my left and my mom on my right. Yeah right.
The nurse pokes her head into the hallway. “Tell the doctor he needs
to run. Fast.”
30 seconds later, the doctor walks in, puts on one glove, and without me
pushing, Skylar’s head comes out. She walked out all on her own. She wasn’t
waiting for no stinkin’ doctor to put on gloves. Or at least both of them.
One was going to be plenty. But she was here. They placed her on my chest, and I
am proud to announce, I was able to stay awake. With Chase, I had been up for
over 36 hours and fell asleep shortly after I gave birth. With Sky, I was
pretty rested and alert, so I got to enjoy those first few moments with her
clearly. And oh, how amazing they were.
Skylar was born at 4:04pm on February 18th. She weighed 8 pounds 1.9 ounces.
She was 20 inches long. And she is just amazing, precious, and gorgeous. I’m so
excited to be starting this new chapter of my life as a mom. I can hardly
wait to see all the wonderful things she does throughout her
life. And I’m so honored I get to share them with her.