Oh, the fabled birthplan. Sometimes I think it’s a unicorn that can poop rainbows and other times it’s as reliable as the sun rises in the sky. All my birth plans read the same. It was the epidural, epidural, epidural, pain intervention, knock my over the head, drug me up type plan. I wanted to feel no pain. And that’s just what I wanted. And that’s just not what I got.
She was born 8:20 am Honolulu time. If you understand anything about this island is there are about 13 cars per mile. So imagine rush hour with only three highways island wide and only three ways to get to where you need to go in the morning; including a hospital the give birth.
She was my third. So I felt well prepared. I had a dream labor and delivery with Bug and a horrifice 5 day back labor experience with Diva. I thought between those two experiences, I would be prepared for everything in between. However, the birth experience for SB was far to the right of sceniors I could imagine.
It wen something like this:
Labor starts on Feb. 21 at 7pm; right after I lay my two children with ASD down for the night. Routine went well; well as well as it could have gone with daddy who left 6 weeks prior for a year long deployment. Knowing labor could take hours to reach pushing status, I went to bed thinking I was trying to get some sleep. My other thought was I can not go to the hospital until I was 4-5 centimeters because if I wasn’t they would send me home. The logistics of trying to find care for two special needs children day or night was a horror story all in itself. How was I suppose to get them anywhere? No husband and no family. However, since I had some advanced warning, I was able to contact my FRG leader for help. Now, we had a plan. We just need SB to cooperate.
My goal was to not frighten my kids. I achieved that goal, but wasn’t able to hold back my pain when I got an unexpected Skype call from Hubs the morning of the 22nd.
I labored all night and by 6am my contractions were 13 min apart. I figured if I could get Bug on the bus to school and walk Diva to my FRG leaders house I could call a cab and by the time we got to the hospital my contractions would be 10 min or less apart.
Um, ya. You laughing yet? Oh me and my wild plans and unrealistic dreams. When will I learn?
At 6am I went to the bathroom. Wrong move. With in 3 minutes I went from 13min apart to 3 min apart! Apparently, I thought I needed to go, errr, number 2. When in all reality, I was pushing!
However, I still had to get both kids dressed, bags packed, bug delivered on the bus (which didn’t arrive until 730) and Diva deliveried to my FRG leaders house. It was only 630am now. Then the iPad rings; Hubs unknown to the drama going on is calling from Afganastan.
“Hi” he says. I tell him hi, and to stay calm but I was in labor. I had one hand on the wall and one hand holding the iPad, walking from our bedroom down the hall to get the kids ready. Every 3 min when a contraction came, I dropped the iPad to face the floor so Hubs wouldn’t see what was really going on; me in active labor.
I got the kids dressed, called the FRG leader and calmly told the kids they would be going to stay with friends for the night. And panic insued. Question after question was flung my way. Bug wanted to know every exact detail, Diva was worried about her girrafee. All the while I had the iPad propped up on the counter so Hubs was facing the ceiling. I kept telling him the kids knocked it over, meanwhile, I was trying not to push. But I was.
By the grace of God, I was able to keep everyone calm until the bus arrived at 730. I promised Hubs it would be hours before the baby was born and to go to bed. A bewildered Hubs obeyed and went to bed.
I was getting ready to walk Diva to our FRG leaders house (remember I am in active labor with contractions now less than 3 min apart and WALKING!). When a friend from our troop showed up; in a car with leather interior! She scooped Diva up and ran her down the road then threw me into her car.
She dialed my doula (if you are ever in my situation look up Operation Special Delivery)
on Bluetooth surround sound in the car. Which we a blessing considering my contractions where 2 min or less apart, I was pushing and we were stuck in morning rush hour (remeber there are only 3 highways on this island?!).
on Bluetooth surround sound in the car. Which we a blessing considering my contractions where 2 min or less apart, I was pushing and we were stuck in morning rush hour (remeber there are only 3 highways on this island?!).
We reached the hosptial, but unknown to us, there were no wheelchairs on that side. My friend ran off to find a wheel chair and left me in the car pushing with my doula still on speaker. Next time I saw my friend I promised her I would get her car detailed. Poor girl, she was young, newly married and no kids. I think I scared her for life.
Soon a nurse and wheelchair appeared. Then I started screaming. “Don’t send me home! I’m not going home!” The hospital policy clearly states you must be 4 cm dilated and contractions less than 2 min to be admitted. They hold very strongly to this policy and since it took me so long to get accommodations for the kids, I was not going home without a new baby.
They get me into the trama bay and onto a bed. I’m still screaming about not going home, clinging into the sides of the bed so if they tried to send me home, they’d have to get a forklift to pry me off that bed. Luckily, through my screams I heard “you’re 9cm!”. They all thought I must have been crazy because I started screaming for my epidural. Remember that fabled birthplan? Yea, that unicorn was dancing circles around me as it pooped rainbows on my head. So much for a controlled labor.
They couldn’t decide if I should stay in triage or move me to a room, but I decided for them when I threw myself back into the wheel chair and was ready to go.
Screaming and pushing down the hall we finally go to the room. Only probably now was I wasn’t 9cm; I was 10. And sitting in a wheelchair pushing out a baby whose water wasn’t broken. So they hilariously asked if I could climb into the bed.
Haha!!! I got to my feet and another contraction hit, I leaned over the bed and pushed. Oops! Next thing I knew two male nurses threw me on the bed. At this point in still screaming for a epidural. They all laughed saying all they could give me was aspirin. What happened to my birthplan! This was not ment to be a natural birth by any means! God created people intelligent enough to make things to help women in labor. I want to use those things.
Sadly enough they were right. By the time they got my my aspirin (yes, I still made them get me something), SB was laying on my chest.
Where was Hubs during all this? Afganastan, remember? Well, now the race was on to find him. Only problem is he went back to bed, locked the door and no one could wake him. Finally, after breaking down the door; they hand him the phone:
Him- “hello?”
Me- “hi!”
Him- “what?”
Me- “um, I had the baby”
Him- “oh, that’s good. Can I call you later?”
Yup. All the day dreams of calling Hubs and announcing the birth of our third with cheers in the background, cigars being lit and “that go man!”, was dashed in a one three second sleepy eyed crusted phone call.
Yes, he did call me back; 7 hours later. This time he was more awake but not much more emotional. Honestly, it was heart-breaking. I wanted him to be excited and thrilled. But in reality, he was emotionless. I chalk it up to his practice of bottling up his emotions during high stress times. I thought maybe when he finally got to meet her for the first time it would be more like the Hallmark commercial I envisioned…. or not.
And with that I say, happy birthday to my not so little SB.
