Tuesday, June 9, 2020

Meeting our girl: Part II

In the next few hours though, the contractions didn’t follow suit. They got worse and worse, although walking helped to ease the pain quite a bit. We strapped on our N95 masks, looped the monitor cords around my shoulders and took off through the halls --- me in my lovely blue flowered moomoo labor gown, pink floral robe and dark blue snowflake slippers that I had gotten for Christmas but saved for the hospital.
“You’d think they could pick something more flattering. That is really the most unflattering pattern and design they could have gotten, I think,” Nate said.
“I know, Tina got a cute pink polka-dot gown and I have this,” I said, referring to our friends who had recently had a baby in Colorado.
I had brought a robe and thought I would be concerned with looking nice still, but at that point, I really didn’t care. I knew your dad didn’t care what I was wearing either.
I dozed off in the middle of the night, and laid in a child’s pose position on the bed, trying find a more comfortable position with the contractions. I leaned back slightly at one point and felt a large thunk in the upper left side of my abdomen.
I furrowed my eyebrows and thought to myself, “Huh, did she just move really hard or…”
Then I felt liquid begin to gush out of me. I mean gush. I had researched so many times what it felt like to have your water break to see if that is what was happening, hoping I was in labor. Now that I felt it, it seemed a silly thing to look up. Dear goodness, it was obvious what was happening as the bed and a towel that was next to me quickly started to soak.
“Nate.”
He was asleep on the couch turned cot next to me.
“Nate,” I said louder.
No response.
“Nate,” I said louder, not wanting to bother anyone else in the ward at 2 a.m.
I looked at the remote next to me, debating on tossing it next to him to wake him up.
“Nate!”
He looked up.
“My water broke.”
He hopped out of bed. We tried to the nurse call, but like the other times we tried, it didn’t work. He stuck his head in the hall looking for someone at the desk but not finding anyone.
He finally got the attention of the nurses and they came in, “My water broke,” I said. “What do I do?”
They helped me make my way to the bathroom, stripped the bed and remade it with dry sheets.
I had slept for about 15 minutes in between contractions, and your dad had dozed for about 50 minutes, but at this point we knew we weren’t going back to sleep. After my water broke, my contractions got incredibly strong. The rocking chair was horribly uncomfortable, as was the bed. We finally found that sitting on a ball and leaning back into your dad was the best way to deal with the contractions that came in twos every five minutes.
I would lean back, and he would hold me up in his strong arms as the contraction torched through my abdomen.
“Remember to breathe,” he would gently say in my ear when I wouldn’t realize I was holding my breath. “You’re doing great.”
After one was over, he’d lean over and kiss my cheek.

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