Due Date

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In honor of today being your original due date, I thought I would share your birth story with the world.

I was becoming more and more uncomfortable and actually had gone to the hospital a week prior after feeling some contractions. Though these turned out to be “false labor,” I maintained a strong feeling that I would not make it to our November 15th due date.

On Tuesday October 23rd I went to work per usual. I started feeling menstrual-like cramps towards the end of my shift, but I didn’t think much of it. As I mentioned, I’d just been feeling down-right uncomfortable for a couple weeks anyway. I came home, ate a grilled cheese sandwich and quickly climbed into bed. I tried to sleep and ignore the discomfort, but was unsuccessful. Around eleven o’clock that night I concluded that I was definitely having contractions and download a contraction timer app. I laid in bed for the next hour timing them. They were averaging about two minutes apart but I told myself they weren’t “real” and tried to tough it out. At midnight, on the dot, I figured I would try walking around to alleviate the pain. As I stood up, a gush of clear fluid hit the floor. I instantly yelled, “Matthew, I think my water broke!!” and began crying hysterically as I called my mom. I smile now remembering how I was yelling at Matthew to get ready and I could hear my mom yelling at my Dad through the phone to wake up and get in the car.

I jumped in the shower and calmed myself down a little bit. Matthew took his time doing his hair and loading the car. I bit my tongue as I remembered my promise to myself that I wasn’t going to get mad or frustrated with him during this process. Soon he tested this resolve while, only half-awake, he ended up backing into our second car on the way out of the driveway and then drove 10 mph below the speed limit. Now is not the time to decide you are going to follow the speed limit! And for those that are not familiar with Memphis, we have some of the worst roads. Pot holes, bumps, and narrow lanes. We laughed at our rough start. Laughter was truly the best medicine at this point.

I waddled up to the admissions desk and told the registrar “It’s for real this time!” She looked at me and laughed and said, “I’ll be with you in just a moment, I’m checking in a baby.” Excuse me! Where is this baby? I’m the only one standing here about to HAVE A BABY!”  I smiled, grasped the check-in counter and just tried to breath. Ten loooooong minutes later we were taken back to a waiting area and told the nurse would be in shortly. By this point, I was still joking and trying to be congenial but definitely in pain. I rotated through about every emotion. I was worried about my baby boy being born a little early, stressed that I didn’t have anything ready at home, and so thankful that my husband was sitting next to me. Matthew was in the process of interviewing around the country for fellowship. He had been gone a few days a week for the past several weeks and was actually supposed to be in Chicago in just a few days. I had been praying that our baby boy would come when his Daddy was in town and was beyond relieved for that answered prayer.

Finally, we were escorted back to a labor and delivery room around 1:15 AM. I answered all the nurse’s  questions, changed into a gown, got connected to the monitors, and attempted to get comfortable in the bed. The nurse checked to see if I was dilated and also checked for amniotic fluid. I was only one cm dilated and was told that my water did not break because there was no color change on the testing paper. I quickly responded and informed the nurse that my water DID break and a little piece of paper wasn’t going to tell me otherwise. She said she would call the doctor and see what the next step would be. My contractions were coming about every minute. I was officially miserable. The nurse came back to tell me that the doctor ordered an ultrasound to check my amniotic fluid level and depending on that they might send me home. “SEND ME HOME?!?!?!” Now, I know this is my first baby and I have no clue what is normal or not, but I know my body and I KNEW that my baby was coming that day! I began to cry, “You can’t send me home, you just can’t!” After what seemed like forever the ultrasound tech finally came into the room only to say that my amniotic fluid level was “normal.” I had an ultrasound about 2 weeks prior and the tech had stated that my amniotic fluid level was a little higher than normal. I explained this to the nurse hoping that this would help my case out a little. She checked me again, two cm dilated this time, and then looked at the monitor. “You’re definitely having strong, regular contractions so let me call the doctor again.” By 3AM they decided they would admit me to “monitor” things. I nicely asked for an epidural or something for pain as soon as possible. I was given Stadol which basically just knocked me out but didn’t take away any pain. I was in a weird zone of being able to feel everything but not able to communicate what I felt. I didn’t like it at all.

Matthew sat beside me the whole time giving me ice chips and fanning my nauseous self. At one point he looked over and said, “Did the contractions disappear? You look so calm.” With my eyes closed I quickly muttered, “Shhh, I’m trying something from Pinterest.” We both chuckled.

Somewhere between 3AM and 6AM I was checked again and at five cm. I shouted, “Praise the Lord, I told you something was happening!” Just when I didn’t think the pain could get any worse, it did. Just past 6AM I was given an epidural. Not too long after that I remember hearing the baby’s heart rate slowing down periodically on the monitor. Matthew ran over to the monitor as three other nurses came running in. I know some drop in heart rate with contractions is normal, but the beat seemed to get really slow. . .  All I wanted to do was cry and freak out, but I knew the best thing I could do for my little boy was to stay calm. They placed me on a non-rebreather oxygen mask. “Just to give the baby some more oxygen,” they said. On the adult inpatient floor where I work, if a patient is placed on a non-rebreather they usually go to the intensive care unit. Don’t freak out, stay calm.

Mom and Dad walked in just as I was saying “Um. . . something is happening down there. I feel a ton of pressure!” We sent Dad home to get the camera, the one thing we forgot!

As the nurses were doing their bedside shift change report, I kept saying “Guys, something is happening, I have to push!” Just breathe is what they said. Just breathe, YOU just breathe!  I am so glad no one could read my mind. On the outside I think I was a fairly calm laboring patient, on the inside. . . well, that was a different story. The night shift nurse decided she would check me one last time before she left. Her eyes grew wide as she told me that I was at TEN cm, fully dilated. Thank you! I told y’all something was happening! They quickly called the doctor who wasn’t even on the premises yet. My body involuntarily began to push. More people started coming into the room to set things up and the obnoxious stadium lights on the ceiling were turned on. Still no doctor. I caught Matthew out of the corner of my eye taking a pair of gloves off the wall and putting them in his back pocket. “What are you doing?!?” “Just in case the doctor doesn’t show up”, he replied calmly. Lord help us, my eye surgeon husband delivering our child. Two VERY different specialities. I hope he remembers the deliveries he did in medical school. Just as I felt I could no longer hold in the urge to push, the doctor finally arrived. About 6 pushes later, our sweet little boy made his way into the world.

Maxwell David Hartman was born on October 24, 2018 at 7:20 AM forever changing our world. And as the sun rose over the trees and streamed into the hospital room illuminating the miraculous bundle of human life cuddled on my chest, the pregnancy adventure came to a close. The next, far greater adventure, had just begun.

 

photo credit: beth crerar