Fewer than 15 percent of pregnant women experience a rupture of the membranes (your water breaking) before labor begins, and even if your water does break in public it's less likely to come as a torrential tidal wave than as a slow leak, a trickle, or a small gush.- What to Expect.com
I figured I would start this story with that delightful little statistic. Fewer than 15% of women have their water break before labor. Even less than 15% experience it gushing out of them. Of course, when I say gushing what I mean is, "pouring out as though a bucket was dumped over your head". Not that my head was getting poured on, but I did have that shocked "What the heck" moment that every person experiences when being unexpectedly drenched. Anyway, back to these stats. Most women experience a trickle, not a gush, and yet having experienced a gush, I still thought maybe I'd just peed on myself. Yep, this story starts with thinking I peed, and ends with a baby.
It was Thursday night, and I had gone through a fairly normal day. Cleaned the house pretty well, got to hang out with my girls, and even go grocery shopping by myself. Now if I had known that walking through Walmart was going to be the last time I would be "by myself" for, well, who knows how long, I probably would have slowed the pace and not rushed so much. Hindsight really is 20/20 I suppose. Having gotten everything on my list, I headed home, unloaded groceries and relaxed with Husband for about an hour before laying down in bed. I laid down at 10:30 pm, watched How I Met Your Mother (love!) on the laptop, and drifted to sleep at about 11:30. Husband had come to bed at 11, and had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. So in other words, it was a normal night.
Until 12:05 a.m.
12:05 a.m. is ingrained in my head. I woke up to a trickle of warmth, and stood up thinking I "dear God, I'm going to pee on myself again!" and rushed off to the bathroom. Mid rush came the gush... I was suddenly soaked and had no control over it. Without even thinking, the words just slipped out of my mouth "What the f*&#?" I stared down at my legs wondering how I couldn't even stop myself from peeing. I was mortified. Then I was confused. It didn't FEEL like I had actually just peed. But surely my water hadn't broken, because that just DOESN'T happen like that. That stuff only happens in the movies. Women don't just stare at the floor in disbelief and realize that they are about to have a baby. So I did what everything I've read says you should do. I cleaned up, threw on new clothes, put on a pad and laid back down. By this time it was almost 1 a.m. and nothing else was happening. Yes, I had peed on myself for sure, because if not it would still be leaking. I even called Labor and Delivery at 1:20, and talked and laughed with the nurse that I didn't want to come in for a little bit of pee (ok, so It wasn't a LITTLE BIT, but seriously I was dazed.). I did not want to embarrass myself with another false alarm.
So I laid back down. I did what the nurse said and frequently changed positions to make sure nothing was leaking out. Then I had a contraction. 8 minutes and 43 seconds later (yes I tracked it) I had another one. So here I am at approximately 1:35 in the morning having contractions, and yet still believing that because I wasn't leaking any more that my water couldn't have possibly broken.
Now it was ten minutes later that I realized things were starting to get real. My contractions went from 8-10 minutes apart (all three of them!) to 3 minutes apart and not stopping. So I did the only thing I could think of through the pain. I hit my husband awake and told him I hated him. Ten minutes after that I couldn't even move because the pain was so excruciating I was screaming. Howling. I was possessed by an animal-like devil that couldn't be controlled. Husband was on the phone with some friend of ours asking if they could please rush over here to sit with the girls, we Had To Go.
Of course, what happens next? Monster1 wakes up (probably thinking there was something terrifying in our house) and sees me bent over my bed screaming. My eyes may or may not have been rolling back into my head making it that much more horrifying to my sweet 4 year old. "Why are you whining like that Mommy? You need to stop, I don't like it." Needless to say Husband made it worse by saying "I've got to take Mommy to the hospital so the doctor can get brother out, that's why Mommy is hurting" So now all Monster is thinking is "Brother is hurting Mommy, and sick people go to the hospital, Mommy must be sick or hurt" which led to her bursting into tears right along with me.
Now I don't know how many of you have ever given birth. I can honestly say until that night, I did not fully understand what is entailed with the tiny humans coming into the world. As Husband raced to the hospital I was clawing at the air, the windows, my clothes, Husband's arm, anything I could get a hold of. I was kicking my feet against the floor, pounding my hands against the roof of the car, desperate for any relief. All I wanted was to be out of my body, to scream (which I was) and cry (which I couldn't) and breathe (difficult through the screaming). I begged Husband to pull the car over and just let me out. Obviously he didn't, and in that moment I could have killed him for it.
We just barely made it to the hospital in time. We made it there at about 3, and got to the delivery room at about 3:15. Now, there's a process involved with having a baby that involves machines and I.V.s and changing into the hospital issued gown. Well, I got into the gown fairly quickly, since as soon as we made it in the room I started ripping my clothes off. The nurses (and my husband) were in shock as I threw the clothes to the floor and continued howling. By the time I got in the bed there was nothing left I could do. This baby was coming out and he was coming out right then. I screamed profanities, screamed that I had to push, screamed as I started to push and screamed as I stopped pushing. And that was just for the first one. The nurses told me they could only advise me to wait for the doctor, but to do what I had to do. Push number two I screamed at them to put him back because it hurt, I couldn't do it, and I wanted him back in. Push number three came as they chuckled and said they don't put babies back in they only pull them out. And there he was. The nurse caught my son as he was (in Husband's words) launched into the world. Mid scream I stopped and just stared in shock. I had just had a baby in less than ten minutes, and only 3 pushes.
Husband stood beside me and just stared at me in disbelief. All he said was "Oh My God" and then was asked to cut the cord. I'm surprised he was even able to, to be honest.
The rest of what happened was blurry and in my shell shocked state, I'm not sure I even realized what was going on as they scooped him up, cleaned him off and held him up for me to see. I didn't notice when they took him to the nursery, and Husband was gone with them. I didn't notice the state of wreckage I was in as I watched the nurses walking around cleaning things up and prepping me for the doctor's arrival. Because the doctor got the easy part. He just arrived to stitch me up and send me on my way.
I did however snap back to reality with enough mindset to apologize to every person in the room. For the screaming, the thrashing, that they had to catch my baby, that I couldn't wait for the doctor, for the mess, the impossible condition in which they had had to place my I.V., for everything. They just laughed. Apparently it's ok to do these things when your body has been taken over by an "all natural, do what you gotta do, Woman." I was told that I was tough, I was told that I was amazing. I was told to sit still while I got stitched up, and then I was told again that I was impressive.
So my birth story consists of only 3.5 hours, start to finish, with a dramatic (though confusing) beginning, and an even more dramatic ending, resulting in a perfect, beautiful baby boy. I finally had all the aspects of delivery that I had ever dreamed of. My water broke all on its own, I had zero medication, and despite the excruciating, body wrenching pain that FELT unending, it was an extremely short process.
I suppose I shouldn't have been so adamant about how I wanted things to happen. Like I said before, if you want to hear God laugh, tell Him your plans. Well, I told Him what I wanted, and He certainly delivered, with a touch of flair thrown in to keep it interesting.
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