Montgomerie's Birth Story (Part 2: Stick to the Plan)

[Intro]
[Part 1]

My doctor told us that, since I was kind of on the cusp of active labor, we had three options:

1. Go home, eat lunch, then come back to the hospital and check in to triage.
2. Walk around the hospital for a bit until my labor progressed more, then check in to triage.
3. Have her call for a room and, if one was available, we could skip triage altogether.

If we had stuck with our birth plan, we would have obviously gone straight for the room. If there wasn't one available, we would have definitely gone for option number two, and headed to triage as soon as we thought they might grant us a room.

Alas, we did not stick to the plan.

Because my mom had left her phone in Delaware (c'mon, Mom! ) and we hadn't mentioned to her that we would be swinging by the hospital to deliver a baby, we decided it would be best to head home and let her know what's up. Plus, I hadn't eaten anything yet that day and the thought of enduring the rest of labor (which was looking like it would be several more hours) on an empty stomach wasn't very appealing.

Once we made it back to our house, I sat down with Addison to put together a puzzle and filled my mom in on all of the details. Meanwhile, my husband prepared a nice big Skyline chili 3-way for me (I'm sure my doctor was thanking him for that later) and I topped it off with a couple of York peppermint patties! Yum.

On the way back to the hospital, Mike suggested we stop at Great Clips so he could get his hair cut "real fast." It was looking a bit shaggy, but seriously? I'm in labor here! Stick to the plan!

My contractions were still about 5 minutes apart once we made it back to the hospital, so we decided to walk around for a little bit to help move things along. We found a cute little courtyard and took a final belly pic:

 

Walking around wore me out after approximately three seconds, so we went back inside and sat down to rest. We timed my contractions again and now they were about four minutes apart and getting longer and stronger. Time to head to triage!

I signed in with the receptionist, then plopped down in the chair next to my husband. The fact that we would be having another baby soon suddenly became real, so we mostly sat there in nervous silence, just holding hands and watching the clock to see if my contractions were getting any closer together.

There were two other couples in the waiting room with us that provided some brief entertainment. They were pretty much on opposite ends of the spectrum of labor: one girl was sweating and vomiting and swearing at the daddy and the nurses, while the other girl had a scheduled induction so she was all chipper and anxiously excited and in zero pain. I kept looking at Mike with eager eyes, waiting for the angry girl to notice the chipper girl and ruin her perfectly perfect day. Sadly, I did not get the opportunity to pretend I was in an episode of Grey's Anatomy.

I was still feeling alright at this point and suspected it would be several more hours before I delivered a baby, but I was eventually called back to triage around 2pm. They sent me to the bathroom for a urine sample and - I could not have timed this better if I tried - my water broke and poured out right into the toilet. My contractions immediately picked up in frequency, pain, and duration. Um, I'll take an epidural now!

Unfortunately, triage took for-ev-er. It took a long time when I was there for Addison, but I assumed that was because I was hardly in labor and they weren't in any hurry to get me to a birthing suite. This time, I was in legit pain and desperate for an epidural, but they were seemingly in no greater hurry to get me a room. Here are a couple of photos that Mike took in an attempt to entertain/distract me while I patiently waited in triage:

Doctors and nurses kept coming in and saying things like, "Let's find out if you're really in labor!" I remember thinking it would be nice to punch each one of them in the face. First of all, I already checked with my doctor. Secondly, my bed is soaked with a disgusting liquid substance that continues to leak from my lady-parts so I know I'm not getting sent home. Thirdly, I am going to punch you in the face. Do they not usually deal with hormonal pregnant women? Choose your words wisely, people!

One doctor verified that I was 5cm dilated. Another tested the amniotic fluid to verify that my water broke (as if there was any doubt). Both just disappeared forever, leaving me no assurance that I would be getting a room anytime soon. I received a glimmer of hope when my nurse asked if I would like an epidural as soon as I got my room. I somehow managed a "yes, please!" despite wanting to die instead.

They finally wheeled me away from triage, bumping into things along the way, claiming I was in a different bed than they're used to, and into my birthing suite around 3:30pm.

I stopped watching the clock, but I think it took about an eternity for the anesthesia guy to get there. Mike was doing a great job helping me breathe through the contractions while we waited. I told him I was in a ton of pain and feeling lots of pressure so he became worried that I wasn't going to be able to get an epidural. I must have looked like I wanted to cry, because he told me it was okay to do so. I burst into tears.

The anesthesiologist finally arrived and the administration of the epidural actually went rather smoothly. It was a lot less terrifying the second time around than it was the first. And even though I had to endure a few more contractions before it kicked in, I was immediately relieved.

Step Two: Complete.

I suppose the last step of our birth plan should have been to give birth to a baby... Well, I'll talk about that next time anyway, in the final installment of this birth series (found here)!

Montgomerie's Birth Story (Part 1: Is this labor? Is THIS labor? IS THIS LABOR?!)

[You can read the intro to this birth story series here.]

My biggest fear in not being prepared to give birth without medicine, was that my labor would progress too quickly and I would miss the opportunity to get an epidural. I've heard it's pretty common for the birth of a second child to be faster and easier than the birth of a first child. But, since my water broke and I had to be induced with my first, I had no frame of reference for how fast labor naturally progresses in my particular womb. It could be days, it could be hours.

So, after hearing horror stories from my mom about how her neighbor was feeling fine one minute and calling an ambulance the next (because she was about to give birth to her second child), Mike and I made the following birth plan: 1. Get to the hospital as soon as possible. 2. Get an epidural as soon as possible. 3. Hope that my labor didn't progress so rapidly that neither of those things were possible.

I also wanted time to emotionally prepare. It's hard enough making the transition from being pregnant to being a parent over a few hours of labor, but making that transition in mere minutes is unfathomable. I needed time to rehearse my response to the miracle of birth so that the doctors and nurses didn't think I was a horrible human being. Aw, she's so beautiful. What a wonderful blessing! ... instead of ... Gross! That is disgusting! I can't believe that just came out of my vagina!

Anyway, let's begin with step one of our birth plan: getting to the hospital. Seems pretty straight-forward, right?

Well I didn't have any signs of labor up until I was 37.5 weeks pregnant. That was the night the baby "dropped." I went from feeling like I could easily carry her for a few more weeks to, Arrggh get this baby out of me right now!, in a matter of moments. Immediately after the drop (which literally felt like a door opened up under my belly and dropped the baby on to my bladder), I started having all kinds of pain. Some in my back, some in my belly, some in places that I don't even know names for... some of it was constant, some of it was rhythmic. I freaked out and yelled to Mike something like, "I think the baby just dropped! And I'm in all kinds of pain! And I don't know what's happening!" And he was all, "Should we go to the hospital?! Are you in labor?! What do we do?!"

I had no clue if I was in labor. After googling "how to tell you are in labor," I decided to lie in bed and breath steadily to relax myself. A lot of the pain decreased over the next few minues so I decided that I was not, in fact, in labor.

I was incredibly uncomfortable for the rest of my pregnancy, but a few days passed before I started having contractions again. Although they weren't very painful, they were pretty consistent at about 7 minutes apart. Naturally, I thought, I must be in labor now! After googling "how to tell you are in labor," I decided to take a shower to see if my contractions grew stronger or weaker. They disappeared. I was not in labor.

About a week later, I woke up with fairly painful contractions that were also pretty consistent. I took a shower and they persisted, so Mike called off work and proceeded to get our three year old ready for daycare. This is definitely labor! By the time we were ready to walk out the door, the contractions had ceased. I was not in labor. Mike went to work.

I had a couple more nights of painful contractions that never progressed. I'm not sure why I always got them in the middle of the night, but I didn't like it. It is hard enough to sleep when you're nine months pregnant without the discomfort and anxiety from false labor!

Anyway, finally, at 4am on the morning of November 20, 2012, I was stirred awake by fairly painful contractions. I timed them for about an hour and they were consistently seven minutes apart. I was pretty confident this was the real deal. I tried to sleep for the next couple of hours, but didn't really. I timed them again around 7am and they were about the same. Took a shower, about the same. I mentioned having contractions to Mike and my mom (who was there to help with Addison), but didn't let on that I thought this was for real. I was tired of looking stupid.

Mike and I needed to run some errands so I told him to grab the hospital bag "just in case" and we headed out the door around 9am.

The contractions kept coming and they were about six minutes apart now, so we decided to call my OB. She said it sounded like I was on the border so I could come in to her office to get checked out rather than go to triage if I wanted. Getting to the hospital was my first goal, but I knew I would have to wait forever if I opted for triage. And I knew waiting forever would not be worth it if I then got sent home because I was not actually in labor or because I wasn't far enough along in labor to warrant a room. Fortunately, my OB's office is in the hospital, so this was an easy decision. We headed to the fifth floor of Magee and Dr. Lareau verified that I was, in fact, 3cm dilated and in early labor!

Step One: Complete. 


The saga continues with part 2 of Gummie's birth story...


Meanwhile, here are some maternity photos that our friend Lissy took. Now, if I link to this blog post, I will have lots of images to choose from other than my profile picture up there on the right!

Gummie Bear!

Easily Distracted

My husband suffers from a little thing called ENFP. (That's his Meyers-briggs personality type, not a disease.)

While we were dating, I found Mike's excitement over every little thing to be endearing. Having the complete opposite personality, he was attracted to my level-head and ability to be calm and rational in any circumstance. Soon after we married, though, we found ourselves saying things like, "Can you not analyze every idea I have?" ... "Can you use your brain for once?" ... "Are you passionate about anything?" ... "Can you just finish one thing that you said you were going to do?!" And this is what brings us to today's post...

My husband is easily distracted.

This little blurb describes my personality type: ISTJs decide logically what should be done and work toward it steadily, regardless of distractions. They can usually accomplish any task once they have set their mind to it.

And this describes my husband perfectly:

My husband has lots of incomplete projects and many more great ideas that he never even started, but one that comes to mind first is our bathroom remodel.

We started the remodel in June of 2011. I remember because that's when I opened my Twitter account. I figured it would be a fun way to document the progress of our little project. A few weeks in, I thought I was making a funny joke:

Actual finish date: August 2012.

(I blamed the baby because I was too busy child-rearing to help with the remodel, but we all knew the real culprit was Mike's ENFP.)

The bathroom looks awesome now (and, more importantly, is no longer a Petri dish for mold/mildew):

please enlarge this photo and note the amazing job he did with tiling the shower stall (reflected in the mirror)

I am so appreciative of my husband for giving our family a safe and fun place to bathe and do our business. However, the bathroom remodel is technically still incomplete (and may very well remain that way forever).

Exhibit A: air vent cover
Estimated time to install: 30 minutes
Estimated date of completion: June 2013 (when we move downstairs and the girls have lots more unsupervised access to this bathroom)

Exhibit B: door
Estimated time to refinish: 1 hour
Estimated date of completion: never

Exhibit C: butterfly grips in bathtub
Estimated time to remove: 2 hours
Estimated date of completion: August 2013 (when the girls start bathing together in the big tub instead of individually in the baby/toddler tub)

In case you're wondering: I could forgo writing this post and complete one of those tasks right now. I have the ability and could surely make the time. But, my husband promised me that he would do these things. Therefore, I have determined to give him space to follow through on his word. Also, it gives me something to reflect on while I answer nature's call; my husband is wired differently than me (he values people and ideas, while I highly value the completion of important tasks) and that's okay.

I am telling you all of this so that you can understand how much of an accomplishment it is when my husband actually finishes something involving routine or mundane tasks.

Last September, Mike decided he was going to run a 5k. Although he didn't train for it as seriously as I would have liked him to (ISTJ motto: "Anything worth doing is worth doing well!"), I was still so proud of him for even doing it!

right after he finished the race!

He concluded that it was a really fun experience (not to mention good exercise) and started dreaming about his next goal. Talk of future 5ks, marathons, and triathlons stirred about in our house for the next several days.

He had his heart set on trying the Pittsburgh Adventure Race next, but then a couple of our friends started talking about running in the Pittsburgh half marathon. They invited him to join and he excitedly registered (having people to train alongside was apparently very motivating for him)!

They started training in February and it has been a tough journey, to say the least. It was a much bigger time commitment than he had anticipated. Running on the treadmill (when it was too cold to run outside) was boring for him. He skipped a whole bunch of the recommended workouts. And there were many times that he stated he was not going to do it anymore. My response was always somewhere along the lines of, "That's too bad. You paid $90; you're doing it." 

Fortunately, I wasn't the only one advocating for his success. Our friends who were also training for the event were much more gracious in their support. And Mike's good buddy from college contributed an encouraging comment to almost every facebook post Mike made about the half marathon (love you, Co-in-law!). Many others have been a source of encouragement to him as well.

Well, not only did Mike finish the half marathon, but he ran (er, jogged) the entire race! No walking!! Needless to say, I am incredibly proud of my husband for accomplishing his goal! I'll let these photos from the day fill in some of the details...

before the race... super excited!

during the race... super encouraged (by our signs and support, of course)!

 I'm pretty sure the signs that Kirstin made were a huge encouragement to every runner that day.

after the race... super exhausted!

so proud of my man!

half marathon finishers... so proud of all these kids!