Well, Jeremy Dylan Wilkes has arrived! He made his appearance in the early morning hours of Good Friday, April 2, 2010. I (or Jeff) have posted briefly on Facebook about his arrival, but we think we have a pretty good story to tell, a bit too long for a Facebook status update!
I think it would be easiest to tell this story by presenting the timeline, so here goes.
Monday through Wednesday
Strangely enough, there was nothing that happened through the earlier days that week that indicated to me that I would go into labor a couple of weeks early. The previous Monday, I had a doctor’s appointment at which Dr. Kelly informed me that nothing had changed from the previous week. I was dilated to two centimeters, about 50 percent effaced, and the baby was at minus two station…he hadn’t even “dropped,” as I had suspected had happened.
I had a couple of brief bursts of energy, wherein I organized the baby’s room a bit more and cleaned a couple of upstairs rooms. Our cleaning and organizing efforts are still hampered by the fact that the kids’ bedroom furniture STILL hasn’t been delivered…but that’s another story. In no way would I call what I did nesting. It was more like I couldn’t stand the dust that was now holding things up on my dresser!
Thursday, April Fool’s Day
Thursday proceeded like any other normal day, with tae kwon do, French lessons, and small group that evening. The kids had a great time making paper fish to take to small group, hearkening back to their great joy at celebrating “April Fish Day” in France. By the end of the evening, all the kids had paper fish and were trying to stick them on each others’ back…fun!
But when we got home, I told Jeff around 9:30 that I was going to bed because I was having contractions and I thought I could probably make them quit if I were to lie down.
Ha!
Good Friday, April 2
12:30 a.m.: I started having contractions that were hard enough to wake me up and make me uncomfortable, so I went out to the couch and started timing them with a stopwatch app on my iPod. They were about ten minutes apart with a duration of 45 seconds to a minute. So, then, I started looking up articles about false labor versus real labor. By 2:00 a.m., I was tired of timing contractions that didn’t seem to get any harder or closer and went back to bed, reasoning that, if I were still contracting by 6:00 a.m., I would go to the hospital.
2:30 a.m.: After about half an hour of hard contractions that woke me up when I dozed off, my water broke. Having never experienced this outside of a hospital bed before, I shot bolt upright, smacked Jeff, and said something to the effect of, “Jeff, wake up! My water just broke!”
Completely disoriented, Jeff shot straight out of bed and started turning circles, unsure of what to do first. I grabbed my phone, called my doctor, and left a message with the answering service. We spent a few precious minutes dithering about where to take the kids, finally settling on the Fiedlers, the place we had spent the previous evening, and Jeff called to let them know we would shortly be on our way.
I told Jeff not to panic because I was sure we had plenty of time. After all, with my first two babies, all breaking my water meant was eight more hours of labor. Jeff went down to wake up the kids and took the call back from the advanced practice nurse at my doctor’s office, who was taking calls that night. She told us to go the hospital and get checked in and that Dr. Banks-Jackson, the other OB at my doctor’s office, was on call for the delivery.
While we hurried, packing up a bag for the kids, grabbing my stuff, and loading the car, we in no way madly rushed. I wasn’t overly uncomfortable yet and, again, was pretty sure we had plenty of time.
(Do you see where this story is headed?!)
3:00 a.m.: We arrived at the Fiedlers’ house and unloaded the kids. I was starting to get increasingly uncomfortable and told Robin when she came to the car, “I am definitely not cut out for natural childbirth!” I hugged and kissed the kids, and Jeff motored off toward the hospital.
By the time we got stopped at a light at the main road, I asked Jeff if he could just run the light. My contractions were now about four minutes apart and lasting for one minute, and I was starting to writhe a bit in the car seat.
3:15 a.m.: We arrived at the hospital, and Jeff parked in the small lot in front of the emergency room. I told him to just leave the suitcase (containing the camera) in the car because he could come back and get it while I got settled in a room. (I think I was probably still in some weird state of denial or, more likely, ignorance as to how far along in labor I actually was.) On my own volition, I walked into the ER, where I was very thankful I had preregistered. A wheelchair showed up right away, and a nursing student named Garrett wheeled me up to Labor and Delivery.
“You’re the sixth person I’ve wheeled up there tonight,” he cheerfully informed me. “The moon must be full or something!”
3:20 a.m.: We arrived at the check-in desk in Labor and Delivery, at which point I could hardly stand to be in the wheelchair anymore.
And this is where the story really gets good and where I’ll pick up next time!
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