So, we're headed to the hospital and I'm writhing all over my seat, pulling my seat belt away from my belly, trying to find a comfortable position and all of a sudden Rob's like, "Shhh!" There was a cop behind us. Of course. Luckily he turned off not too long into our drive. Thank Goodness!
The rest of the drive was uneventful, besides my moaning of course. We stopped at Starbucks for a smoothie and a water for me and then we were at the hospital. It was 7am. I did not want the wheelchair, but we used it to wheel our bags in. At one point I had to stop walking in the middle of a contraction and Rob tried to make me sit in the chair. "Sitting doesn't make it hurt any less!" I snapped at him.
We made it to labor and delivery, I changed into a gown and got into a bed in triage to be hooked up to the fetal monitor. I was at 5 centimeters. I hated it. They wanted me to lie on my back, but I kept rolling over onto my side and messing up the monitor. I hated being on my back; I wanted to walk around. They also told me that my midwife was out of town, but she was on her way home and should be there around noon.
After about an hour in triage, I was cleared and they sent me to my room. I immediately disrobed and hopped into the shower, it felt so much better. I stood under the warm spray with my forehead against the tiles, hunched over the grab bar. I was really hurting.
After an hour or so, they made me get out so that I could get my IV of antibiotics for Strep. Did I need them? I'm not sure. The wonderful OB doctor couldn't find my test results, so I had to get them to be safe. The nurse made me lay in the bed while she checked me - 7 centimeters - and hooked me up, then I took to wheeling the drugs around the room, hunching over every time I got a contraction. Also, I threw up. I remember signaling to Rob to hold my hair back; he didn't get it, but luckily the nurse did. I usually HATE throwing up, but that time it didn't even phase me. I guess when you're in a ton of pain everything else - even unpleasant stuff - fades into the background.
As soon as the IV was done, I got back into the shower. I tried to sit on the birthing ball in the shower, but sitting was excruciating, so I just slouched against the side of the shower. Eventually, I was just so exhausted. It was noon and I had been in the shower for three hours, although to me time had ceased to mean anything. I asked Rob to ask them to start filling up the tub. But they wouldn't let me in the tub, because my midwife wasn't there yet and they no longer thought she would make it.
The nurse made me get out of the shower so she could check my progression; it was between 7 and 8. I curled up on my left side in the bed. I was so exhausted and in pain. I was also having a ton of anxiety about my midwife not being there, and not being able to get into the tub. I did not want that awful OB to deliver me. Also, my best friend Erica was in Florida and she was supposed to be in the delivery room with me. Out of all of my support, only Rob was left.
I was in so much pain, and all I wanted to do was get into the tub and I couldn't. I made Rob squeeze my toe, hard, to distract me and then my leg when he couldn't bend over anymore. Rob kept telling me to breathe, and relax but I couldn't. I had it in my mind that only the water would relax me, and I was so stressed and anxious about delivering not in the tub, and not with my midwife, and of tearing that I could not relax.
I was trying my hardest to hold out for my midwife. I wanted to deliver in the tub so I wouldn't tear and I wanted her to deliver me. I had stalled at 7 centimeters, waiting for my midwife I think. Rob said I pretty much screamed for two hours strait, from about 12:30-2:30 I guess.
Eventually, when I came to terms that: my midwife was not going to make it, there was no chance of me getting into the tub, & that the awful uncaring OB doctor was going to have to deliver me, I gave in and got an epidural.
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