How we got a Jack, Part 1

So here it is...the story of the time I popped out a wee human...

It all started when my membranes were stripped at my doctor's appointment.  She told me that 50% of the time when this is done nothing happens and the other 50% of the time, people's water break or their contractions start.  I was still 5 days from my due date but I was hoping for the latter.  

I made my way to Chris's hockey game where I signed to him my progress in previously established hand gestures.  (The sign that my membranes had been stripped was a violent clawing motion,  Chris's idea).  All throughout his game I kept hoping my water would break all over that cold bench and I could have my baby.  The fact that I would have to walk away from everybody on the ice with a wet butt didn't bother me that much.  But...nothing happened.  Until...

...later that night around seven o'clock.  I was sitting there making a felt stocking for Jack.  Chris and his cousin Dallan were sitting on the couch talking and I think Everybody Loves Raymond was on.   And I felt it, a warm gush.  I threw my sewing and ran for the bathroom.  This is were it gets graphic (well maybe that started at "warm gush").  I discovered in the bathroom something that led me to believe my water had been broken but there wasn't enough water.  I'd always heard about it reaching people's ankles.  After much in depth discussion with Dallan, Chris, Chris's mom, and eventually a picture being sent with Dallan's phone to Chris's mom of the offending fluid (not my idea), it was determined that I had in fact leaked some amnionic fluid/my water had broken.  Chris's mom informed me that I had 24 hours from when my water broke to get the baby out or there could be serious infections. 

So I called the doctor's office asking them if I should go to the hospital.  They said no and that it was probably just spotting.  They said unless there was a lot of fluid then it wasn't my water breaking.    I got kind of sassy with the medical assistant and asked her to double check with the doctor.  The doctor again told me not to worry and that if I wanted I could go to the hospital I could, but it was probably nothing.  I was still worried so I called the hospital and spoke with one of the nurses there who also told me that what I leaked was probably just spotting.  

Around this time it was determined by Chris's mom that the reason there was so little amniotic fluid was because the baby was sitting so low blocking the rest of the fluid from coming out.  Chris and Dallan wanted to test this theroy.  I don't know how exactly it happened or why I let it happen, but let's just say peer pressure is a very powerful thing.  And the next thing I knew, Chris had one of my legs, Dallan had the other and I was hanging upside down.  That's right...they decided if the baby was blocking the rest of the fluid, tipping me upside would pull the baby down away from the opening allowing more fluid to come out.  So there I was, a 9 month pregnant women, hanging upside down, who had fallen victim to the inquiring minds of two inquisitive young men.

But the experiment worked...I leaked again.  And again later on.  And pretty much every time I stood up.  The night wore on and I started to get worried.  I had heard about people leaking too much amniotic fluid and then the babies head squished the cord causing brain damage.  I was torn about what to do.  I didn't want to show up at the hospital and look like an idiot after two people had told me not to worry, but I was worried and I couldn't stop a little voice in my head that kept saying, "Just go in to the hospital."  

After a few tears of frustration it was decided that Chris and I weren't getting any sleep.  So, we decided to head to the hospital where I informed the front desk people that, "I wanted to make sure  I wasn't leaking anything that needed to stay inside of me."  That was the most intelligent thing I could come up with at that point.  

I was hooked up to monitors and tested to see if I had leaked amniotic fluid.  One test came back negative but the nurse decided to double check and performed another test.  Meanwhile Chris and I were getting prepared mentally to go back home and go to bed.  By this time it was about three in the morning and we were sure it was a false alarm.  I was so tired I wasn't even that disappointed.   Bed started to sound really good.  

One of the monitors that was on me was testing to see if I was having any contractions.  I was highly confused because the monitors kept saying I was having contractions about every three minutes, but all I could feel was what I thought was the baby pushing on me under my ribs.  It didn't hurt, it was just a little pressure.  

In due time the nurse came back with an IV in her hands.  She asked, "Do you want the good news or the bad news?"  One always asks for the bad news first.  She said, "The bad news is, I have to start an IV.  The good news is, you are going to have your baby."  At this point I was excited but scared all at the same time.  Was I ready for all of the pain and pushing and agony that I had dreaded my whole life?  Probably not, but it was going to happen either way.