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3-2-10 – Part 2 – To Do List
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10
I descended the stairs for the third time that morning and headed to the bathroom to change protection gear (again!). Then, before I could sit down I felt the first heavy contraction. I paid very, very close attention to what it felt like.
**Warning: Real L ife Details**
The intensity took my breath away and squeezed quite a lot of my water out, staining my underclothes and newly chosen sweat pants with the dark green liquid.
***
That annoyed me. Now I’d have to change, AGAIN, which meant another trip up the ladder.
The contraction felt so similar to gas cramps that I felt like I just needed to relieve the pressure. But then I remember how my uterus was beginning to contract, to squeeze my baby down. I remembered to breathe. Breathing calmly felt like the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to change positions, to furrow my brow, to end the tightening.
Have you ever had a cold headache and wanted to squeeze your eyes or scrunch up your nose in pain? That’s the best description I can give to the tightening ache that squeezed my abdomen. I wanted to hold my breath, but instead I forced air into my nose and slowly out my mouth. It didn’t last more than 15 seconds.
When it was over, a “to do” list materialized.
- I have no control over the mess I’m making and I can’t just sit on the toilet all morning
- I have to call the doctor
- I have to call my doula
- I have to wake up Dale
- I think we need to kick it into high gear and get to the hospital
- I can’t concentrate on unlocking the stupid iPhone and timing these if they’re going to be so intense
- If this is just the beginning of the contractions, will I have the ability to do this without pain medication?
- I wish I had eaten breakfast.
While seated in the bathroom, I called the doctor’s office. Since it was still early I got the service who asked me more questions than I had patience for. I was heavily breathing into the phone as another contraction came, this one stronger. I could barely whisper my social security number, my age, my weight.
“Good grief!” I thought, “Why don’t they have this information on file??!” It was excruciating to have to talk while enduring a contraction. The lady on the other side didn’t get that I was in active labor mainly because I didn’t know myself.
Hanging up with their assurance that they’d page my doctor, Dr. Leslie Ahlmeyer, I walked out of the bathroom, grabbed a large bath towel, tripled it under me and sat down in the middle of or couch. I hollered up to Dale that it was time to get up and that my water had broke with meconium in it.
Dale sat up, “What does that mean?” he called down.
“It means we have no time,” I told him.
With iphone in hand I called my doula, Linda. I could barely talk when a contraction hit me, the iPhone app was completely useless as I had to use the phone to talk. By this time it was 8:45. Dale was up and hurriedly packing the last minute items into his suitcase. I was not given more than 5 minutes between contractions and I was worried that we would forget something.
I tried to calmly ask Dale to pack certain things. I think my tone came out more terse and annoyed as I realized I had no strength to carry anything. I couldn’t even carry my purse. But I was afraid we’d forget something (we did, my boppy pillow and milk pump system) as I was beginning to be more concerned with breathing than anything else.
Dale finished some cereal that I would have liked to enjoy had I not been preoccupied with contractions. He loaded the car (10 minutes with all the trips) and then helped me hobble to the door and jam my shoes on. I had taken the towel and swaddled myself in a diaper style. My red coat on top of everything, we began the long walk to the truck. I was clutching the towel in near panic as I felt a contraction hit me halfway down the icy path.
I doubled over and I yelled out to Dale to help me when he snapped this rather unflattering picture. I was not pleased that he was TAKING PICTURES, but am glad now to have something to share from that moment.
“Dale, come here,” I gasped as I doubled over afraid I would fall into the snow bank.
If this is just the beginning of labor, how am I going to make it to 10 cm. How would I survive transition and birthing our baby? I wondered.
I was bent over, afraid of what lay ahead when Dale came near. I wrapped my arms around his abdomen for support to keep from falling into the snow, resting my head into his belly. The sun was rising, but it was about 10 degrees. I felt more meconium water pour out of me. The contraction felt like a vise on my stomach.
As soon as it was over I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. I just had to make it to the car door, I told myself.
I made it without any more contractions and Dale even had time to triple another beach towel into 3 layers for me to sit on. I dropped the now wet towel on the floor. The engine roared, and we began the drive to the hospital.
I told Dale every time a contraction ended that I felt so ashamed of the liquid pouring out of me, I couldn’t do anything to not mess up the seat. The towel wasn’t thick enough, I shouldn’t have removed the diapered towel and put it on the floor and . . .
“It’s not your fault!” Dale said emphatically. “That’s not you, that’s the baby and he’s coming. Don’t worry about the seat.”
That made me grin. Baby Finn was on his way!
Read Part 3 “The Drive to the Hospital”
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10
April 1st, 2010 at 4:05 pm
So good to hear your story! Don’t stop…I’m eager to hear ALL of it! Love all the details! Love you, Jonalyn!
April 2nd, 2010 at 10:09 am
I agree with Audra!!:)