If you know me at all, you know I am pretty much a planner. I like to look at my calendar at the beginning of the month and map out what I have going on. Not to say I am not flexible, but I like to at least have a general idea of what's going on. So you can imagine how much I "love" the unpredictability of going into labor. It's one of the most stressful parts of being pregnant. Never knowing, always wondering, and hoping it doesn't happen at an "inconvenient" time. I figured though that since this was my fourth baby, I pretty much knew when to leave for the hospital and that I would make it there in plenty of time. That wasn't ever my concern. It was more of a "would everything go smoothly before getting to the hospital" that concerned me?
So to start my story, I should start back a few days before going into labor. On Thursday, I went to my last doctor's appt, where my doctor told me I was dilated 2 cm and 50% effaced. That wasn't much for me. I usually walked around at 3-4 cm for a couple of weeks before going into labor. So I wasn't too worried about making it to my planned induction day of November 2nd. Saturday morning came and it was the last day my MIL was going to be here (she had come to stay with us the whole week as my "insurance plan" as I called it). I decided we needed to go out and do something fun for her last day. So I made us appointments for pedicures and we set off. We got our pedicures, did a little Christmas shopping, went out to lunch and ran a few random errands. We got back home around 4 pm, she helped me make soup for our Ward's Trunk or treat that night and we got the kids ready to go. Just before leaving, I started feeling just a little "off". I wasn't really having contractions per say, but I just wasn't feeling too well. We got to the ward building, Paul was helping set up, my MIL was watching the kids, and I was helping get some games ready. I continued to not feel great the whole night but thought it would pass, as it usually does. We got home from the trunk or treat, I did some dishes and helped get the kids to bed. Me, Paul and my MIL sat down to chat for a while. During our chat, I had what I would call my first REAL contraction. One that actually hurt. It was close to 10 so we all went to bed, exhausted from our big day.
I got ready and got in bed. A little while later, another "painful" contraction came. I thought, hm.... that was weird. But then a good 15 minutes went by before I had another one. I waited. Another 15-20 minutes passed. I figured they were gonna slow down. Then about 11:30 or so (I kind of lost track of time at this point), my contractions started coming hard and FAST. Like from 15-20 minutes apart, to 2-3 minutes apart and lasting for at least one minute. Paul woke up, I told him to call my doctor, and I started throwing stuff in my hospital bag (stopping between contractions because they were getting pretty intense). Paul talked to my doctor and we left for the hospital. Every time a contraction came, they got more and more intense and there seemed to be a shorter span between them. My water still hadn't broken, so I thought I couldn't be dilated THAT far. We made it to the hospital (20 minutes or so later). I could barely walk at this point. Paul helped me down the hall and to the labor and delivery floor. I got changed and in bed and that's when they told me I was "complete". Unfortunately, I knew what that meant. It meant NO EPIDURAL FOR ME! I said, "no I want an epidural". The nurses calmly told me that wasn't gonna happen and then proceeded to tell me my doctor was still 10-15 minutes away. I thought, YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! I told them to get another doctor, which they did, but instead of getting ready to deliver my baby, they all stood there just waiting and staring at me. I was rather bugged. Later, I realized they were just stalling and that the "other" doctor was only there incase my baby started to come. After a little while, my doctor showed up, the nurses kicked it into high gear, my water conveniently broke, and Carter was born a few minutes later. Afterward, my doctor, who has delivered three of my babies, said to me, "I'm so sorry Amber. I know this isn't how you wanted it to go". Yes, she knows me well. But somehow I survived, as many a women have before me. And now I have my beautiful baby to hold and love for the rest of my life.
It definitely wasn't what I planned and I'm still in shock that it all happened so fast (less than two hours from the time my contractions kicked in until he was born), but I feel SO completely and incredibly blessed when I think about the chain of events and how everything really worked out so well. When I think about what would have happened if my MIL hadn't been at our house, or if it had been the middle of the day and Paul had been at work, or if I had been out and about running errands, it just gives me chills. So really, even though it was DEFINITELY not what I wanted, and natural child birth was NOT fun, I am still completely grateful for my many many blessings!