OK, so I’m going to start this post by telling you that everything you thought you knew or thought your birth story would be, take those thoughts and toss them in the garbage like yesterday’s half eaten Dunkin muffin.
Why? Because nothing ever EVER goes to plan. And if you are one of those who it has, I applaud you and envy you. But for the rest of us we didn’t have one or we had visions of grandeur of how our time in hospital would be. I sure as hell did. And that sure as hell got tossed into the firey chasm of Mt Doom faster than Gallum falling into it with the ring of power.
Let me back track a bit friends, grab a coffee, some snacks, and a big blanket, we are going to be here a while.
So, it started with my son bringing home the stomach bug from school,nice right? And then giving it to mommy, who subsequently gave it to hubby(more on that later) . I was already having Braxton Hicks fun and some pressure. But when that illness took Me, I was struck down hard. The only place comfy was the floor. And the contractions started. I thought at first they were just stomach pain from vomiting and having spastic colon Sunday. Turns out the contractions got worse and closer together.
At 36 weeks I knew I needed to get to the hospital and fast. 5 minutes apart they were. We packed up our son with an over night bag, grabbed nonsense for us. And then left the house to get to the hospital.
I did a blog post on “WHAT TO PACK IN YOUR HOSPITAL BAG” and didn’t follow a damned thing. I didn’t have it packed yet. I know the irony is not lost on me. My hubby grabbed my maternity dress and some underwear. He grabbed a few things for him, our plugs for our phones. That’s it folks. We left with that. Didn’t pack anything else. We didn’ think I would be admitted.
And then I was admitted. And found out I was in preterm 4 cm dilated and lots of pain. Nausea. The whole bit. I got some pain meds as I refused an epidural at that time due to the possibility of being sent home. And as I am writing this in my epic hospital gown of pure couture*and epic sasquach legs*, I still have that possibility. So every contraction has been handled with out medication. I am not asking for a pat on the back, a huzzah, no I want my damned meds truth be told. But at 5 cm as of 11:whatever Am I still wanted to wait for it. I would have to have it taken out on discharge.
And the on top of that, remember stomach bug? It attacked hubby while in the hospital. So then he gets a mask and the staff isn’ comfortable with him possibly contaminating our newborn(if he decides to come) so possibly delivering my baby early and alone. This is depressing, this sucks, and not what I had envisioned. My baby could be born a few weeks premature and with just me to say hi to, it breaks both our hearts. For sure. (I am typing this as I go through a contraction, it is keeping me sane.)
I am sitting here in my hospital room, alone, typing on my blog, while my hubby is puking his guts up at home now with only a dog and 2 cats to keep him company. The hospital bleaching and sanitizing everything he touched while he is away.
Our son at grandma and papas house, where he should stay until daddy is OK.
I am here alone consoling myself with a cell phone during contractions and in between. Walking around my room to “help” things. All while wondering “am I going home?” “Is the baby going to come?”
All I know is I keep saying to myself is “I am OK, I Will NOT CRY. Tons of ladies do this alone a lot, I am nothing special.”
Even though secretly I just want to feel that way for just a second.
ther is an update! I was sent home at 5cm dialated, stilling having contractions. But they weren’t too close anymore. I am wondering if the saline drip had something to do with it. I swell up when on the drip. My legs are not only hairier than a dwarf from Lord of the Rings, but swollen too.Currently, I am at home wanting to get right to sanitzing everything, and all that nesting stuff. While having a hubby who is very sick and a son who is better but having sensory issues. I in my humble opinion do not think I will last a week. Or at least the baby won’t stay in. And if I end up back at the hospital before my time and hubby is still sick my mom will be with me.
Sorry for the epically Long blog post.