That is the text Jered sent to my parents about half an hour after we left them at our apartment on Saturday morning.
Needless to say, some confusion and assumption of pure jest ensued, but the truth was that our second daughter had arrived in dramatic fashion.
Birth story time! Warning: lengthy post for a short story.
"Bey-bey," as Evelyn called it, was appearing to have a mind of his/her own as I experienced some early labor signs in the middle of the week before our due date. I finished packing up my hospital bag, did the quickest cleaning of our apartment ever, and waited. And waited. And waited.
Nothing happened, and spicy food, fresh pineapple, walks around Target, bouncing on the exercise ball, the excitement of Game 7, and tempting fate with Jered going hunting all failed to put me into labor.
Then Jered came home from work last Thursday with what appeared to be the stomach flu, and I thought, "Great. Now I can't even wish to go into labor because this would be the worst timing." He spent half of Friday totally miserable, but I told him I bet he would feel better by that night when my parents arrived (they had planned on visiting a new baby by that time), and then I'd go into labor.
Mom and Dad got here around 10:15, we got Evelyn up for a little bit to play (we're rule breakers, we are), and I scolded my stomach some more, urging Baby to "GET OUT."
I woke up a little after 3 a.m. with a contraction that was finally painful. After a couple of them, I nudged Jered and told him it was starting for real. I think I stayed in bed for about half an hour and realized I wouldn't be going back to sleep, so I decided to take a shower and get myself ready.
I took my time and shaved my legs and started having some contractions that made me bend over. On my way back to my room, I passed Dad in the hall and told him I was just killing some time. Jered asked me how it was going, and I told him he should probably get up in about half an hour. To my surprise, he got up right then and showered.
It's a good thing he did. By the time he was done, I was kneeling or squatting through the contractions. We finished getting ready, said goodbye to Evelyn, and my dad prayed for us before we left. (I told him he could only do so if he hurried.)
[holding my breath through a contraction as I held our *only* child for the last time]
I gave Jered the OK to stop at the gas station for coffee and donuts again, asked him to get me some gum, and told him to hurry. (I'm not sure if he was really as hungry as he said, or if he was trying to be traditional- he also wore the same outfit he wore when Evelyn was born.) When he got back I told him to really hurry, but not to get pulled over or get a camera-issued ticket in my parents' van.
We got to the hospital in record time, and I had to sit on the same curb as last time to wait out a contraction. At the check in desk, I paced, wondered again why there is so much paperwork even after pre-registering, and also wondered again why the check in ladies don't seem to be in any rush.
Then things really started. (I will try to share without any traumatizing details for you.)
I had to squat and lean on the counter through another contraction, realized something felt different, started to stand up to find a bathroom, and my water broke. The next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground, telling Jered it was coming and that I couldn't move. Nurses were suddenly standing all around me, trying to get me into a wheelchair, but my body felt like it had locked up. Somehow they got me into the chair and rushed me down the hallway.
I was mortified that I was doing it, but couldn't help yelling in pain the whole way. I couldn't control my breathing enough to get the words, "but I wanted the drugs" out. All I could think was, "No, this can't happen- I can't do this without the epidural! This can't be happening!" They got me onto the bed, and I think they still didn't realize how serious I was about the fact that it was coming. I don't remember what they wanted to do- get me into a gown maybe- but I said again, "It's coming now!"
They got me partially undressed, I heard someone ask if the doctor was almost there, and someone else said it didn't matter because the head was "right there." Jered was rushed up to my side, and I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE. I don't know how women do the natural thing, guys. It was terrifying. It almost makes me cry just remembering it. I just remember yelling alot more than I ever thought I would, and that I must be disturbing all the people on the floor. I also remember feeling like Jered was scolding me for not slowing down my breathing. (And he thinks I take things too personally. Ha)
Jered said I pushed twice, and she was there. I've heard people say they don't like epidurals because it makes you foggy, and you aren't as present after the baby comes, but I'm telling you, I think the shock of doing that naturally made me foggier than an epidural. I remember it barely registering when they said it was a girl and placed her on my chest, and then I wanted Jered to take her because I didn't trust my arms to work because I was so shaky.
It was the most intense, terrifying thing I'd ever done. And I know so many women don't have a choice and so many choose to do it that way, but I never had any desire to go the natural route, and I certainly never thought I might come close to having a baby anywhere but on a hospital bed.
Anyway, start to finish, the whole thing took about two and a half hours. I woke up around 3:00, Dad says I passed him in the hall at 4:15, we left around 5:00, and Leyla Jolie was born at 5:31.
I'll save the later details and talking about our two girls for another time because this is already long. Suffice it to say we are in love, and the fact that we now have two beautiful daughters is still surreal.
