As I climbed in my car, I tried desperately to call my mother. She didn't answer. I called my father instead (who was home due to a work injury) and woke him up. Surprisingly enough, my phone held out long enough for me to tell him I was on my way to the hospital. Soon after, my mom called me back. She sounded more panicked than I was! I told her to call Sky because my phone was acting up. As soon as I got off the phone with her, I texted my husband one word:
BABY!
As I drove out the apartment complex, I started wishing I had at least taken one birthing class because I was absolutely CLUELESS about what I should be doing. I knew I probably shouldn't have been driving, but what was a pregnant girl to do? No one was at home, Sky had already gone to work and I didn't (and still don't) know any of my neighbors. I got onto the interstate, cursing the lady in the car that wouldn't move over so I could merge. I huffed and puffed while trying to clench things downstairs so I wouldn't ruin the car seat. (Crazy things go through your head during times like this! Who cares about the car seat? I'm having a baby!) Up ahead, I saw something that shot my stress levels up. Flashing blue lights.
No, I wasn't thinking of stopping for help or an escort. I just KNEW there was an accident. I-16 is NOTORIOUS for accidents as its a major commuting roadway. As I approached the flashing lights, I realized traffic was only slowing down, not stopping; which meant the accident had been moved to the median. WHEW! I let out a sigh of relief, glad that I wasn't going to be stuck in traffic. As I made my way to the hospital, I kept up with the huffing and puffing, glancing at the clock to time them. I've always heard that's what you were supposed to do. The rest of the drive was rather uneventful. I'm sure if you were an outsider, passing by, you'd have never known I was in labor.
I finally pulled into the hospital. Trying to find the actual emergency room entrance was a bit of a task, considering I had only ever gone through the front doors or through the day surgery entrance. I felt that luck was on my side when I pulled in. There, close to the entrance, was an open parking spot. It beckoned me to park...like it had been waiting just for me. I was also thrilled that I hadn't had a gush the entire ride! Yay! Dry panties are always a good thing! Then I parked.
GUSH!
No sooner than I had turned the ignition off, a HUGE gush came out. I just sat there, defeated. It's a weird feeling, not being in control of your body...fluid coming out your lady bits and there's nothing you can do about it. Then I realized, "Holy crap! The seat!" I scrambled out the car as fast as I could...which really wasn't fast considering I was 38 weeks pregnant with a dish towel stuffed in my panties. I grabbed my purse, remembered to lock the car, and waddled in the emergency room, fluid dripping down my legs.
There is no dignity when you're in labor. Especially if you're one of the lucky ones whose water breaks on its own. As I stood at the front desk, waiting on the receptionist to stop talking to the other people hanging out, I felt a strange mixture of embarrassment, pride, and excitement. No one likes knowing they've just left a trail of fluid from the parking lot to the emergency room. And the worst part...there's nothing you can do about it. Obviously the dish cloth wasn't working anymore. On the other hand...I was going to have a baby! My baby. The little wiggle worm that had been growing inside me for the last 8 and a half months. My little miracle! And in the back of my mind, I couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, someone would slip in that trail. It would be the perfect touch on the comedy that my labor was turning out to be.
The receptionist asked if she could help me and I replied, "My water broke. I'm in labor." Surprisingly enough, no one rushed to my aid! Definitely not like the movies. No one was panicking, no one whisking me away. She asked me pertinent information, like my name, due date, and doctor. As she went to call for a nurse, the one at the desk offered to take me. He meandered over with a wheel chair and off I went.
The nurse made small talk as he took me to the second floor - the mother/baby floor. Even recommended a pediatrician. I told him to write down the name, but he never did. Speaking of which, PICK A PEDIATRICIAN BEFORE YOU HAVE A BABY! More on that later. One stop at the nurse's station to find an empty room and into room 10 I went.
My nerves had me shaking. I was having a baby! And I was all by myself. *sad face*
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