James' Birth Story
When I got pregnant, the very first people we told were our best friends, who were dating at the time and planning a wedding a few months later. A month earlier, they had asked my husband and I to stand in the wedding with them, and we readily agreed. So there I was, about seven months from their wedding, and about seven and a half months from delivering my first child!
Seven months after informing our friends of the good news, my husband and I made the three-hour trip to the northern Michigan woods, the gorgeous location our friends had chosen to say their vows. We spent the weekend there, standing all day in their wedding. I squeezed into the dress we had chosen, now three weeks from my due date, and radiant as ever.
The day after the wedding, we made the three-hour trip home. We were extremely tired, so we both laid down and took a short nap. At about five o’ clock that evening, my husband suggested we go out to eat, so I went to the bathroom to get ready. I noticed that my mucous plug had fallen out, and I informed my husband of this latest development. We got out our books, which said that after losing the mucous plug, it could still be days to weeks before delivery, and as no other symptoms were present, we proceeded to go out to eat.
At 10:30 that night, I got up to go to the bathroom and felt a rush of water, almost as though I had peed in my pants. I wasn’t quite sure what it was, and told my husband of the strange sensation. Since we weren’t sure, we kind of ignored it and continued to watch our television program.
I started to have cramps about a half hour later. They were mild and definitely not rhythmic, so I attributed them to a stomachache, and again, ignored it. The pain continued to get worse, and I started to walk the house, as this made things better. I still refused to believe it was labor, and ignored my husband’s pleas that I call the doctor.
Finally, though still not timetable, the contractions became painful enough that I called my doctor. That was about midnight. He told me to go back to bed until I could time the contractions. However, the pain, though nothing like I had expected, was certainly intense enough that I could not sleep. I continued to walk the house and moan, and finally my husband said to pack my bags, we were going to the hospital.
On the way to the hospital, the contractions suddenly developed a pattern. I was having them every two minutes! We arrived at the hospital at 1:00 a.m. where I was rushed to a delivery room. I remember the nurse saying to one of the doctors to check me quick, I had had four contractions during the five-minute elevator ride.
Sure enough, I was dilated to ten, and according to the nurse, had probably been so for about an hour! She started pushing with me immediately, and my doctor arrived at the hospital about five minutes before James Wyatt entered the world, three weeks early at 2:24 a.m., weighing six pounds, twelve ounces, and measuring eighteen and three quarters inches long. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and labor was so much easier than I was prepared for. I would do it again in a heartbeat!
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