Sleep was, of course, elusive; it's amazing how much excitement a tiny little squirt of liquid, real or imagined, can generate in a 39 weeks pregnant woman. I laid there in bed next to my husband, mind blazing with the possibility that I could have been right, trying to decide whether to call my doctor just in case. I rolled over, trying to find a comfortable position to get back to sleep, and I felt it again. Just a few more drops, I'm sure, but it felt like a fountain.
I got back up at this point, and decided to conduct myself as if I were sure it was time, even though I was still debating with myself fiercely about whether or not I was imagining things. I took a shower first. Then I heated up a couple of packets of instant oatmeal for breakfast...probably not what the doctor would have wanted me to do, but I knew all about the no food except for ice chips policy at my hospital, so I wasn't about to go in there with a completely empty stomach. I'd just thrown the dishes from Tuesday night's dinner in the sink, so I washed those next...by hand, so I wouldn't even have dirty dishes sitting around in the dishwasher for a couple of days. Just in case.
By the time I'd finished the dishes, I decided I was calling the doctor for sure, even though I'd more than half convinced myself that I was overreacting to a little normal discharge. At 5:20 am I woke up my husband, and in my distracted state, I believe the first words out of my mouth were, "I don't think you should go running this morning, because I think my water might have broken." In retrospect, not the most politic way to drag a dude into consciousness, you know? ;)
While Matthew was drinking his morning coffee, I called my obsetrician's answering service, and explained what had happened. I have to admit I couched this conversation with a lot of "maybe's" and "I'm not sure's," but when the doctor called me back less than five minutes later, she told me to get to the hospital to get checked out. When I apologized in advance for possibly wasting her time, I believe her response was "oh, hush," or some similar, which made me feel a lot better. I do like my doctor quite a bit. :)
I spent the next half an hour putting a few last minute things in my hospital bag, while Matthew got his shower, and we were at the labor & delivery ward by 6:15 am. I was put into a triage room, and hooked up to the blood pressure cuff, baby heartbeat monitor, and contractions monitor, and a nurse came in to check me for amniotic fluid. The surface check was negative, which didn't surprise me. In fact, before we'd left our apartment, I told Matthew that I thought there was a better than even chance that I'd blown all of this up in my head, and we'd be sent back home (full disclosure: he predicted the opposite).
But then, the nurse performed an internal check. I was 3 cm dialated, and the amniotic fluid test paper came out bright blue, which was positive. It was official; I was having my baby today.
Let me tell you, having your water break but not actually having contractions start is the only way to start out a labor. They brought me tons of paperwork to sign, and asked lots of questions for their computer database, and I didn't have a haze of pain to try and concentrate through in the process. I called my parents, and my brothers and sister, and was able to have coherent conversations with them to tell them it was go time. Matthew brought in our hospital bags, and I even managed to read peacefully for awhile. It was a lovely and exciting morning.
At about 9:30, they started me on pitocin, because I still wasn't having any contractions. Apparently my uterus only needed a little kick to get things rolling, because they only upped my dosage once. My contractions came on quickly, and they came on strong. I needed my epidural by 11:00, and once it had kicked in, labor was once again a peaceful and lovely experience.
They started turning my pitocin down when they saw how quickly I was progressing. By 2:00, I was 10 cm, and they turned it off completely. For the next hour and a half they let me labor down, mostly because the doctor was in the middle of delivering another patient, and wanted me to wait to push if possible.
At about 3:00, my room started filling with the medical team that would be helping me deliver my baby. The stirrups came out, and they got me into position. They found a mirror for me, so I could watch my son coming into the world. At 3:25, everything was in place, and it was time to push.
Matthew held the back of my neck when I curled up to push with my contractions, so I was able to see everything that was happening. I am amazed to say that with the very first set of pushes, I was able to see the top of Locke's head...definitely something to be said for that laboring down stuff. ;) It all happened so fast...his head was out completely, and then they were sucking his mouth and nose clear, and finally without any help at all from me, the rest of his body slipped right out. They put him on my belly and let me hold him for a second, and I started crying. I barely caught Matthew cutting the umbilical cord out of the corner of my eye, and then they whisked Locke away from me to get him cleaned up and to check his vitals. He was born at 3:38 pm...it only took thirteen minutes.
Apgars were great (8, 9), but I started worrying when I heard that he was only 5 lbs, 8 oz. At my last ob appointment, the doctor said that she thought he'd be kind of a little guy, but 5 1/2 lbs sounded ridiculously small to me. At 39 weeks, he was full term, and I had measured perfectly at all of my ob appointments leading up to the main event. I still don't know how it is that I came to have made such a little baby, but to my great joy and relief, he appears to be perfectly healthy. He may be the size of a preemie (certainly he only fits into preemie clothes at the moment), but he doesn't have any of the potential health issues that you sometimes see in premature babies.
One thing I will say for having a little baby...recovery hasn't been so bad. I only needed one stitch, and I'm feeling a lot better at 4 days post partum than I expected. I'm kind of feeling guilty about other people taking care of me right now...I could be doing my own laundry and cooking my own dinners and all that stuff. It's nice to have help, though. :)
So there you go, that's the story of how Locke Thomas came into the world. His father and I are still in awe of how beautiful and wonderful and perfect he is. Here are a few pictures of our new little guy!
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