Welcoming A Second Child
Monday morning, January 8th, started out like any other Monday. The doctors office called me around 8:30 am to cancel my appointment that I had for 11:30 am. I was suppose to have an ultrasound. I asked for them to call the hospital to see if they could get me in sooner rather than later. The receptionist gave me quite a bit of trouble. She didn’t take me serious. They weren’t able to get me in until 11:30 am the next morning. I didn’t know it at the time, but that would have been too late. The day went on and on. It became the longest day of my life.
I had gone shopping with my mother, and did a lot of walking. I also picked up the car seat for my then-unborn daughter. But deep down I thought something wasn’t right. I felt so sick. I felt weak. I started to feel pains in my back. I can’t really describe them. It just hurt so bad. I felt like my back was being broken in three different places all at once. It was excruciating. This started at 4:00 pm in the afternoon. It kept going every 15 minutes for three hours. And then it started going closer, like 5-8 minutes apart.
As you can guess it kept getting closer and closer. I asked my mother to bring me to the hospital. We picked L’s dad up and brought him to my apartment to watch our daughter. And then we headed to the hospital. It was a long waiting period. This whole time I was contracting. But the three hours I was at the hospital, I wasn’t progressing. I was still three centimeters dilated. I wasn’t any further. I thought I had to be after all the contractions I was having. But apparently, it didn’t matter to the hospital how painful my contractions were. They discharged me.
I went home. I had contractions 2 minutes apart that lasted for at least a minute the whole way home. By the time my mother had dropped L’s father off at his house, and came back to my apartment I was already in active labor. My mother called the midwife. We agreed to go back to the hospital. But it was too late. I couldn’t move. My mother had to practically carry me to my bed from the toilet. Somewhere between moving me from the bathroom to my bedroom, she had called 9-1-1. They sent a cop over, as well as the ambulance. By the time the ambulance arrived, my water had broke. It actually broke right before my mother got home while I was on the toilet.
It was an eight minute window between the time the ambulance arrived and the time my daughter was born. It was the fastest delivery this town had seen for quite awhile. And also the first time a birth had taken place in this area in over 20 years, as well as the first birth on the brand new ambulance.
‘A’ was born very quickly. Our hospital stay was even quicker. Adjusting to being a mother of two took quite a bit. I will be writing stories about both of my little munchkins soon, instead of just one.