Trigger warning: mention of miscarriage.
QOTD#2: DD#2 was born tomorrow, 27 years ago. (ouch) Right on her due date. Went into labor about 6am, walked about 15 flights of stairs over and over and over and over until I was sure it was going to stick this time. Took the bus to the hospital (no car), and freaked out all the passengers and the bus driver (who skipped a couple of stops, I think) every time a contraction hit (went from every 15 minutes to every 10 minutes by the time I arrived at the stop) then walked the 4ish blocks to the hospital. Went in, got confirmation, had the person who rode with me call DH (not DH then) and got all monitored up. Contractions every 4minutes by the time he arrived; I asked if we were able to wait until he arrived, and the doc said we could try. He was there within an hour (he did manage to get a ride from a person at work, about 30 minutes away, but went to the wrong hospital at first....typical DH).
Side note: It was July 1st. Does anyone know what happens on July 1st in a teaching hospital? I do....guess who starts their new rotations? Doctors in training. Guess who got a brand spanking new DIT to deliver her baby (being overseen by a teacher doctor [TD], of course)?
Ok, where was I? Oh yeah, all hooked up. No epidural, because I was too close to delivering and not enough time for it to kick in. So the nice doc ordered me a shot of....Demerol, not much, just enough to take the edge off. Water still not broken. Contractions are now right on top of each other, time to go! They take the foot down, bring up the stirrups, and scoot on down I did. Out comes the shaky little DIT, and all the other little DIT coming to watch, and the nurses, all in pretty scrubs. Behind them, the TD in a beautiful white silk blouse with a lace collar, and dark pants, makeup and hair done to the nines; asked by the nurse if she wanted scrubs, the TD replied "no, I have a meeting after this and I want to look nice." A quick skin numbing, a small incision to help make things...bigger (6 stitches after), and we are ready to roll.
You think you know where this is going, don't you? Hah
Out comes the pretty water balloon popper tool. A quick nick and some fluid drains out. Not a lot, maybe about 2 TBLS, according to DH. Time to push. One quick push got her almost there, another quick push popped her head. One last push, all her body....and....remember a minute ago, I said a little bit of amniotic fluid came out? Well, I guess she was acting like a stopper in a bottle, because when she popped out, so did all the fluid. Rather forcefully. All over that TID (who bobbled, but did not drop baby)....and the pretty TD who was kneeling right beside him. Her hair looked like she was caught in a rainstorm, mascara smearing...and that pretty white silk blouse was now see-through and streaked with yellow and red fluid. DH said he would have laughed his behind off, but was scared I might have hurt him for laughing at such a painful time.
Also, a side note. When the doctor months before says you having a boy, understand that sometimes they miss things. Like twins (remember 27 years ago, and I was on Medicaid, so not the most interested in care doctors. Turns out I was carrying twins, one of each, and at some point after the ultrasound where the tech said "HEY IT'S A BOY! CONGRATULATIONS!", that boy was lost. (there were some issues about month 5, but they did no follow up once it was clear I was still pregnant.) The girl hiding behind the boy (as was discovered when the doc rereviewed the images....they originally thought that little arm floating directly behind the boy's arm was a 'ghost image')...same with the heartbeat (echo).
Everything I bought....gowns and onesies and socks and blankets...were all blue. For a boy. All washed and ready to go.
Anyways, the TD is soaked and the DIT stands up and says "It's a girl!". And the first thing I did? I turned to DH, started to cry, and apologized that she was a girl. We were both shocked, but he recovered quickly. He went to bathe her and start being dad (he refused the cord cutting, was too concerned about hurting either one of us...give him a break, he was a young 23). While he's with the nurses with the baby, the DIT is finishing with me, and the nurse is asking me if I have any concerns about DH and a girl. I was still sobbing, from the hormones and pain and the "oops, I told him the wrong sex" thing.
They thought he was going to be upset about having a girl, and were checking on our safety (which is why they pulled her and him away to a far corner in the room right away, instead of letting us bond with her right then and there). I'm glad they were on top of it, for other people who might need it...but we were fine. I was just coming off the pain (because Demerol did take the edge...but the rest of the blade of pain was still there).
So, we had a daughter, and a funny and sad story to tell.
