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Thursday night was a fairly quiet one. Hubby and I decided to stay in, I was watching "The Perfect Dress" on TLC for about 3 hours (which is funny because I never watch TV for that long ). Around 4 pm I started getting contractions that seemed a bit different from my typical ones. They were more painful and could be defined as standard labor contractions. This continued every 15 minutes or so for the next 4 or 5 hours. Around 9, things started progressing a bit more, and at this point I was pretty sure it was labor. They started getting so bad and close together, I had trouble standing. So even though the hospital was only about 1 mile away from home, we headed on over any way. When we got there, I was contracting so much and so frequently, the nurses thought I'd soon deliver. Funny thing is, the contractions just stopped and the doctor told me they were just braxton hicks! I begged to differ and told her that my BH contractions never felt that intense; I know what braxton hicks feel like because I'd been having them for months! So the doctor on call at the hospital called my OB, who wanted me to stay over night for monitoring. I LABORED all night (not braxton hicks). When I first arrived at the hospital, I was only about 2.5 cm dilated, by morning I was only about 3.5. Luckily, my doctor paid me a visit on Friday morning. She agreed that I was in labor but that I wasn't progressing the way she wanted me to, so she broke my water... and that's officially when game time started!
So I thought the contractions were painful...little did I know they would only become unbearable after the breaking of the water. OH. MY. GOSH. Seriously?! I was becoming delusional. It was morning and I'd only slept about 15 minutes that entire night because of the contractions. Every time a contraction would come on, I felt like vomiting and I got very, very hot. It was so frustrating because I really wanted to have a "natural" childbirth experience, but I really didn't have the energy. I gave up and realized I had nothing to feel guilty about; for pete's sake, they call it labor for a reason! I figured out the reason . But, to my disappointment, the doctor didn't want to give me an epidural until I was at least 5 cm dilated. I cried. Literally. I looked at DH and said "help me!" and then I'd say "God help me" and then I'd just say the "Our Father" over and over, to help me focus. I was pretty crazy. I even went so far as to pour ice water on my face when a contraction hit. So every other contraction was followed by "Water!" or "Ice!". Poor DH, what a trooper, he kept up and gave me whatever I asked for. He tried massaging my head but all I wanted was water and ice...oh yeah, and he had to resort to fanning me with a pillow every time a contraction hit. He was awesome and I love him all the more for his support.
By the time I was able to get the epidural, I'd already dilated past 5 cm! In fact, 30 minutes after they gave me the epidural, my doc came back from doing a c-section and said "it's time to push!". Those were the words I never thought I'd hear! I was so out of it, I literally thought maybe she was joking. I didn't see an end to the labor, I wasn't thinking clearly at all. But what JOY and RELIEF the word "push" brought to me. This was my light at the end of the tunnel! DH was elated and I was still delusional, but somehow, after just 15 minutes of pushing, I managed to get our baby girl out! I gave it all I got, pushed with all I had (which didn't seem like much, but somehow I did it) and she came out with a bang and beautiful cry. It was quite the experience!
Unfortunately, she wasn't "pinking up" as quickly as they wanted her to, and her breathing patterns were a bit off...so after holding her for just 3 minutes, she was whisked away to the NICU. They said that she has Transient Tachypnea, but last night they were able to take her off oxygen and she's doing really well now. We won't get to take her home until monday, because they want to be sure she doesn't have an infection, but we are happy that she has improved and hasn't experienced any other complications. She eats well and doesn't cry much at all, only when she's hungry or not swaddled . She's such a sweet baby and loves being held...which is a good thing because we love to hold her. Our petite little Mirabel came into this world weighing only a whopping 6 pounds, 6 ounces; she's 17.9 inches long. I think she looks like a little ballerina. She's adorable!