The next time I have to "poop" five or more times in 45 minutes and I am five days from my due date, tell me to go to the damn hospital already.
On Thursday the 15th, I felt miserable. I had been to the doctor the day before and my blood pressure was nice and high 140/90. My swelling was increasing and I was sent for blood tests that showed my kidneys weren't too happy about being pregnant. I was headed back to the doctor Friday for more blood pressure tests and another blood draw. But all day Thursday my head was pounding and I just felt awful most of the day. At one point I crawled from my office chair (at home) to the floor and just cried a little. I was sure the headache was from the high blood pressure and with a big headache everything feels worse.
Thursday evening my headache finally broke and I told Brooks that I wanted to go to the grocery store for our big prebaby stockup shopping trip. He suggested that I just wait until Friday since it was just such a rough day. I gave in and we lazed around the house. By 1:30 I woke up with what I thought was um, poop pains. I had been sleeping so poorly and up at least three or four nites a week so I thought nothing of it. I headed downstairs, let the pup out to pee and fed the cat. For some reason, the poop pains I was having weren't quite normal and I was going to try to poop quite a few times in a short amount of time. I headed to Dr. Google and imagine this - lots of the forums suggested that I could be in labor. After a few more trips to the bathroom I realized that I should at least wake Brooks and we should call the doctor. Maybe these were Braxton Hicks?
It had been about 45 minutes since I first woke before I headed upstairs to talk to Brooks. I tapped him on the shoulder and whispered that I thought I was having contractions. He looked at me in a state of befuddlement before the sleep haze cleared and he asked me a few questions as he climbed out of bed. I told him we needed to get our bags finished packed and I wanted to get a shower. At this point I was still going into the bathroom every few minutes because of the pressure I was having. I wasn't sure why it felt like I needed to go to the bathroom but I wasn't going to risk it and poop my pants. Brooks started getting somethings together and I gave him the mission of calling the doctor's office. Brooks has the habit of making little funnies when he is nervous or trying to seem not worried. Believe me, I did not want to hear his little funnies about the baby wanting to come on the 16th like originally planned. I just wanted a damn shower and the bags packed.
The doctor suggested that I head in but talked to Brooks and didn't seem overly concerned. So I wasn't overly concerned. I got in the shower knowing that I wouldn't be able to get a shower for quite a while if I was truly in labor but didn't realize that standing in the shower would be such a task. I just wanted to wash my hair. Maybe shave my armpits. I had high priorities. I couldn't see my bikini area at that point because of my belly so I wasn't worried about prettying that area up.
At one point I yelled for Brooks because I wanted him to be putting things in the bag for me but he wouldn't answer. That pissed me off. I learned later that he was downstairs washing the dishes. Seriously, we both had priorities before heading to the hospital. Mine was washing my tends to get greasy hair and his was the dishes.
As I got out of the shower and stood pantsless next to the bed, another wave of pain came over me. They were quickly getting worse and just standing up was an effort. I got dressed as quickly as possible and as I was getting some things together, Brooks asked me if I had packed his deoderant. I honestly said to him - "Are you f-ing kidding me? I don't know." There was no abbreviation in what I really said though.
We knew we needed to take the Jetta which meant the cars needed to be moved around in the driveway and also meant that we had to get gas in the car. Yes, the gauge read 25 when I parked it the day before and 12 miles remaining when Brooks started it that morning. I didn't care at that point and just wanted to get to the damn hospital. Sidenote- keep a full tank of gas near your due date.
I was having contractions around five minutes or less apart at this point and they were so strong that the only thing I could do was grip the car door handle, breathe and watch my legs shake. Since it was three something in the morning, there wasn't much traffic which was a good thing considering how fast Brooks was driving. At one point I looked over and he was doing 75 on a road that I would normally drive 40ish on. I actually fussed at him for going so fast and said that if he killed us getting the hospital it would defeat the purpose.
We pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. It was a mess because of construction. Brooks ran to the main entrance to get a chair - bwahaha he asked if I needed a chair. Dude, I can not walk at this point. He then came running back to the car frantic to tell me that the entrance was closed and he couldn't get a chair. He said it in a what will we ever do manner. I am pretty sure that I yelled at him - then go to the other damn entrance. I kept thinking that I was going to kill him if he asked me one more stupid question. It was a good thing we were at the hospital.
After getting a chair, we headed up to the fourth floor on the elevator with a phlebotomist who told me she would see me later. As Brooks wheeled me into Labor and Delivery, the nurse asked if I was Stephanie and once we confirmed that, she said that they had been waiting for us. Apparently spontaneous labor and Breech baby means a warm welcome at nearly 4:00 in the morning.