Welcome to the World, Max Peffley

Ella’s labor was 24 hours, and Henry’s was 16 hours.  I’d heard that the third baby can come faster, but I was wholly unprepared for this:

I woke up Wednesday morning having a few contractions.  They were about 10 minutes apart and mildly painful.  I got the kids fed and dressed, and after Ella was at school, Henry and I ‘relaxed’ by downloading 5 new dumptruck apps for the ipad..  Some friends came over to play at 10:30, and by then, my contractions were gone.  I was bummed that they’d died off.

After we got Ella from school and I laid the kids down for a nap, I decided to take a nap as well {I never EVER do this}.  When we all woke up, I took the kids on a 2-mile walk, pushing them both in the stroller.   I felt great on the walk, and decided there was no way I was having a baby anytime soon if I could push 100 pounds of kids for two miles and feel fine.

Nic called and was going to be late getting home, so I pushed the kids on the swingset for awhile and then made dinner.  As I was getting Henry ready for bed around 6, I noticed a few contractions.  Around 6:30, I decided to start timing them.  They were about 10 minutes apart and were actually starting to hurt.  At 6:30, I called my friend and doula, Anna, and we decided I should eat dinner, take a shower, and monitor them over the next hour.  I got Ella settled for bed, and by the time I got out of the shower, they were 2-3 minutes apart and painful, but only lasting for 40 seconds {I still thought it was maybe false labor because they weren’t very long…idiot}.

I talked to Anna, and she decided to head over and help me decide what to do.  I also let Nic know that he should probably come home soon.  By the time they both got to our house {at about 7:35}, I knew we needed to get to the hospital.  I thought I was maybe 4 centimeters dilated or something, but I was going to die if I didn’t get an epidural.

We called my mom, Nic’s mom, and Nic’s parents’ house.  No one was answering their phones, and I started to stress out even more.  Luckily, we were able to reach Nic’s brother, Brent, and he was there by the time we were done getting our things packed.

Contractions were still about 2-3 minutes apart, lasting about a minute, and suuuuuuper painful at this point.  When Anna saw my face during the contractions, she was pushing us out the door.  Driving to the hospital was terrible, and I was feeling like a total loser for being such a wimp.  I fully expected to get to the hospital, get checked, and be 4-5 centimeters at the most.

When we got to the door, I got right out of the car.  I didn’t care if Nic or Anna was with me; I needed that epidural.  The lady at the check-in desk and I had a conversation like this:

Me:  I’m in labor.

Lady:  Okay, when is your due date?

Me:  Saturday.

Lady:  How exciting!  And how far apart are your contractions?

Me:  {pauses for a contraction}

Lady:  {eyes open wide}

Me:  2-3 minutes, lasting for a minute

Lady:  Okay then.  And what baby is this?

Me:  #3.

Lady:  {eyes open even wider} Ooooookay!  I’ll call right now!  Ok!  Let’s call back!

Me:

I sat in the chair for a few minutes while they ‘found’ me a room.  At this point, I was starting to lose control.  Anna and Nic made it in, and Anna was putting pressure on my back, which helped a little.  There was a poor, poor couple sitting there, waiting on a tour.  Sorry lady, this is what real labor looks like.

They got me the world’s most awkward wheelchair, and wheeled me back.  Having had two epidurals before, I knew that it takes about an hour before you have enough IV fluids to be able to get the epidural.  I was begging {read:  shouting} to be taken to a room so I could have the IV right away.

They took me to the triage room, and I was SO MAD.  I was shouting at everyone who would listen that I did NOT want to waste time in the triage room; I needed the epidural RIGHT NOW.  Literally, screaming my head off.  Totally not in control of the pain.  Since my other labors were so long, I just thought for sure I was in for a long night, and I wanted the pain to go away.

They asked me to undress and put on a gown before they checked me.  I definitely didn’t wait for the door to be shut, ripped my clothes off, and got the gown on ASAP.  The nurse checked me, and I shouted at her to get me the epidural right then.  She got a funny look on her face, and I just knew.  I knew it wasn’t going to happen.

I was screaming at her {the poor, poor thing}, asking how far dilated I was.  I was completely shocked when she said 8.5 centimeters.  No wonder I was in pain:  I was in transition!

Then I really started to freak out.  I knew in my heart of hearts that I was going to have to do this without any pain meds, and that just wasn’t my plan.  I’d already given up control, and I was screaming at everyone in the hallway that I couldn’t do it.

They got me transferred to my labor room, and we happened to see that couple taking a tour.  I’m afraid I wasn’t on my best behavior, and continued to shout at everyone in sight about an epidural.  It’s what you’d imagine a scene from a sitcom would look like.  Oh well.  Just a taste of reality for her.

Anyway, we got to the room about 2 minutes later at 8:25 {this is less than an hour after Nic got home from work….so glad we live so close to the hospital}, and I was checked again:  fully dilated.  If it’s not clear by this point, I was freaking out.  I was begging anyone who would listen that I needed that epidural.  They were all very nice, and were trying to find a way to tell me that it just wasn’t going to happen.  The OB was still at home, so they called her on in, though I’m sure they didn’t think she’d get there.

Miracle of miracles, she did get there.  At this point, I was literally pulling my hair out, trying to get the pain to go somewhere else.  Like I said, I’d totally lost control.  She broke my water at 8:32 {she must also live freakishly close}, and encouraged me to try a few pushes.  Breaking my water did relieve a lot of pressure, and she told me that if it looked like the baby wasn’t going to come quickly {I was at a +3, so I’m sure she knew how fast it was going to happen}, we could try to get an epidural in {still didn’t have an IV at this point}.

I pushed twice, maybe three times, and the baby’s head was out.  I was still screaming at the top of my lungs that I was going to give up.  I was so sure I couldn’t do it.  I was begging them to just pull the baby out, or better yet, just cut the baby out.  The doctor politely refused {she really was a saint, with all of my screaming and carrying on} and explained that she wouldn’t be cutting the baby out.

I pushed one more time, and Max Peffley was born at 8:41, 16 minutes after we got into the room.  I obviously never planned for this to be a natural birth, but it sure was.  In the world of TMI, no stitches needed, so I'm feeling fantastic.  One glitter crown and gold medal for me, thankyouverymuch.