DISCLAIMER: From this point forward, "I'm tired" becomes a really suitable excuse for spelling mistakes, grammatical errors, illogical blogging material, abrupt wrap-ups, unfinished posts, and infrequent posting ;)
Exhibit A: I started this post yesterday morning.
Remember those "here and there" contractions I told you about on Thursday? Well, they intensified as the day progressed and reached a point where Phil believed we should return to the hospital. I tried to reason with Phil for a little while, saying that perhaps the medicine needed time to kick in (it had been two hours already!) and that if we just relax and go to sleep they might disappear. I also said that I was feeling a little stressed out and it's probably stress related pains......HA! Can you tell I didn't want to return to the life of hard hospital beds, beeping monitors and IV drips?! The thought of returning to the emergency room had me in tears and I was trying everything to get out of the dreadful situation that entailed Phil packing our bags frantically and giving me no choice other than to get into the car. (Thank you, Dear Graeme, for backing Phil up on this). My mind was going crazy with doubt and worry. We weren't ready for the baby. We needed her to grow more. We needed to catch up on lost sleep first. We needed to make sure Phil and Nory weren't sick anymore. We needed to set up the room. We needed to buy a car seat. The list went on and on and on. But in that very moment (which I refused to realize) what we REALLY NEEDED was to get to the hospital. Apparently these sorts of things make zero sense when you're an overtired, hormonal mess.
So we went. I had a pity party the entire 40 minutes it took us to get there. Although I should get some credit for walking to the car by myself (no dragging or carrying required) and opening the passenger door to willingly get out of the car upon arrival.....right?
The nurses were delighted to see me, yelling "HELLO MADAM LINDSAY!!!!" with big smiles as we entered the fifth floor. Heartwarming, yes? Ha. I was hooked up to the CTG, checked for dilation and then hooked up to an IV. This time, however, they would not give me meds to stop the contractions. Instead, they would give the baby a chance to change her mind overnight (how kind!). If she remained insistent (which she had been for the last two weeks!), a c section would be scheduled for the morning. If not, we would be discharged (my secret hope).
This is where things get a little interesting and, looking back, it went by so fast that I feel it was all a dream. It was already midnight once we were moved into a room, so Phil chugged some NyQuil and passed out like a light. I was given some pain meds and was able to doze off between the really bad contractions. Then four thirty in the morning rolled around and the doctor on call came in, read the CTG output and said she would call my personal doctor. Twenty minutes later, three nurses came rushing in, turned on all the lights and said that a c section was happening............NOW! They started getting me ready for surgery. Phil "woke up", but as you NyQuil believers know (shame on y'all), he wasn't truly with it. I called Dana and Emily quickly and just after they arrived (which was impeccable timing BTW), I was whisked away to surgery without the man of my dreams. Yes, turns out I had to brave my second c section alone. #GOLD STAR #rockedit
To be continued when I have another moment............
Exhibit A: I started this post yesterday morning.
Remember those "here and there" contractions I told you about on Thursday? Well, they intensified as the day progressed and reached a point where Phil believed we should return to the hospital. I tried to reason with Phil for a little while, saying that perhaps the medicine needed time to kick in (it had been two hours already!) and that if we just relax and go to sleep they might disappear. I also said that I was feeling a little stressed out and it's probably stress related pains......HA! Can you tell I didn't want to return to the life of hard hospital beds, beeping monitors and IV drips?! The thought of returning to the emergency room had me in tears and I was trying everything to get out of the dreadful situation that entailed Phil packing our bags frantically and giving me no choice other than to get into the car. (Thank you, Dear Graeme, for backing Phil up on this). My mind was going crazy with doubt and worry. We weren't ready for the baby. We needed her to grow more. We needed to catch up on lost sleep first. We needed to make sure Phil and Nory weren't sick anymore. We needed to set up the room. We needed to buy a car seat. The list went on and on and on. But in that very moment (which I refused to realize) what we REALLY NEEDED was to get to the hospital. Apparently these sorts of things make zero sense when you're an overtired, hormonal mess.
So we went. I had a pity party the entire 40 minutes it took us to get there. Although I should get some credit for walking to the car by myself (no dragging or carrying required) and opening the passenger door to willingly get out of the car upon arrival.....right?
The nurses were delighted to see me, yelling "HELLO MADAM LINDSAY!!!!" with big smiles as we entered the fifth floor. Heartwarming, yes? Ha. I was hooked up to the CTG, checked for dilation and then hooked up to an IV. This time, however, they would not give me meds to stop the contractions. Instead, they would give the baby a chance to change her mind overnight (how kind!). If she remained insistent (which she had been for the last two weeks!), a c section would be scheduled for the morning. If not, we would be discharged (my secret hope).
This is where things get a little interesting and, looking back, it went by so fast that I feel it was all a dream. It was already midnight once we were moved into a room, so Phil chugged some NyQuil and passed out like a light. I was given some pain meds and was able to doze off between the really bad contractions. Then four thirty in the morning rolled around and the doctor on call came in, read the CTG output and said she would call my personal doctor. Twenty minutes later, three nurses came rushing in, turned on all the lights and said that a c section was happening............NOW! They started getting me ready for surgery. Phil "woke up", but as you NyQuil believers know (shame on y'all), he wasn't truly with it. I called Dana and Emily quickly and just after they arrived (which was impeccable timing BTW), I was whisked away to surgery without the man of my dreams. Yes, turns out I had to brave my second c section alone. #GOLD STAR #rockedit
To be continued when I have another moment............
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