As we ate B's leftover birthday cake the night before my due date, I thought this labor and delivery would be just that- a piece of cake. I'd done it before, the second was "supposed" to be faster, and I'd felt so great all week I thought I might have a baby by the end of the weekend, but certainly not on my due date. What are the chances?
Then, a plastic plate hit the floor. It was the last piece of birthday cake, and without hesitating or thinking, I dove, nine months pregnant, to save a piece of cake from the dog like I was saving a child from oncoming traffic. I got up from the floor laughing hysterically at myself. Shortly after, I sent this text to my coworker: (pardon the autocorrect)
Funny, right? Well, about 10 minutes later I started feeling very unusual.
It was just past B's bedtime when the real contractions started, but the pain was all in my lower back. By 1 a.m. they were 2 minutes apart, so we went to the hospital. When we arrived, I was only 2cm dilated so we walked around slowly for an hour, still contracting every 2-3 minutes with nearly unbearable pain in my back. I hadn't progressed. The triage nurse mentioned that I was "posterior" but she wasn't concerned because it was early. I was in so much pain I didn't quite process what she was saying. Turns out, the baby was positioned with his head down, but facing the wrong direction, making it more difficult. It was around 5 a.m. and I still hadn't progressed at all. I was waking up Drew to help get me through each contraction, which were becoming fewer and farther between but just as painful. I was exhausted and defeated. The nurse gave me a Lortab to ease the pain and sent us home. I spent 5am-8am sleeping between contractions, wondering if I could birth a posterior baby. Luckily, I had a scheduled appointment at 9:30am for my due date, so I knew I could see my midwife and get some answers.
Like a crazy person, I showed up to the office for my regularly-scheduled appointment, only instead of entering the building with some sense of composure, I was crying behind my sunglasses, trying not to make a scene in the waiting room while having contractions. I didn't wait long because it turns out as soon as the front desk saw me they called a nurse. Everyone seemed more in the know than I was... when the midwife checked me I was 6cm. Time to finally go to labor and delivery! The midwife showed me a few tricks to turn the baby and after traumatizing those poor pregnant women in the waiting room on our way out with my wincing, breathing and moaning, we drove quickly right around the corner to the hospital where we were led straight into a delivery room. It was about 10am.
Contractions were strong and close together, but I still had about a 2-minute break in between and my water still hadn't broken, which according to most movies and birth stories I've heard, meant I had a little time before the baby arrived. So, when I said, "I have to go to the bathroom," the midwife told me to go ahead, but sit backwards in case I had a contraction so I could lean and breathe through it. Drew followed me and a nurse followed him, putting on her gloves. That's when it happened- my water- right into the toilet. Not a second later the baby followed- thank God the nurse was there to catch! The midwife and the rest of the nurses ran into the bathroom to assist, shocked at the sudden arrival. For a baby who seemed in no rush to get here, he certainly waited for an opportune time... and location.
Baby Bryce was born at 11:59a.m. weighing 7lbs, 15oz and measuring 20.5 inches. We briefly considered naming him "John."
