Thursday morning, while scrambling some eggs, I peed myself in the kitchen. But did I? Usually the "totally normal amount of accidental urine leakage for a second pregnancy" is accompanied by a response to stop the pee. I had no sensation of peeing or of trying to stop peeing. I was just wet on my thighs and underwear.
"I think my water just broke."
Scully looked at me blankly. I don't think it was disbelief. I think it was more in fear that this was another great labor pronouncement that would end in more disappointment, particularly for me. We would have to ride along together through the roller coaster of excited and panicky only to end up with irritation and disappointment.
The doctor says to go on in and have the nurses check me out. Khubz is dropped off at gramma's house, Scully & I buzz down to dsm to the hospital. One hour and a pelvic exam later it is determined that I have pissed myself while scrambling some eggs. See ya. Really the professional medical opinion? You pissed yourself.
Hold that thought, though.
In truth the nurse, Nancee, was very nice. She said things like, stop writing down all your contraction times. You're only making yourself crazy. When you double over or can't stop yourself from moaning--then write it down. That was freeing in a way. She also advised that I should try to "relax into the contraction" so it would actually have an impact on my cervix.
Still, I was extremely disappointed. I was no more dilated than I had been at the doctor's on Monday. It was now Thursday and I had spent all of Wednesday walking my ass off. All for nothing. Oh well. Scully and I left the hospital and stopped at the Mexican neighborhood where I ate roasted chilis in the hope that our bean would get inspired.
Later that night Khubz was tucked in bed, my mom called and I tearfully asked her to come over. Scully, Mom & I sat in the living room watching british drama (Foyle's war, of course) and I decided my "last meal" could really come at any point. It was time to begin the buffet.
I sat down to eat a mango. It may be the best mango I had ever eaten. It was perfectly ripe without being squishy. It was firm without being stringy or fibrous. It even peeled nicely. So I had some mango and was cajoled into walking around the house a bit between bites. Not that it was going to do me any good, right?
Five minutes of walking and I returned to my sweet tender mango. Oh, cherished mango, you are the only one who really understands me, I cooed to it while Mom & Scully asked if I shouldn't keep walking.
So I took another bite and there was this audible "pop" followed by a swoosh. I gasped and asked Mom & Scully if they'd heard it too. They hadn't heard the pop but the entire couch was now clearly wet. This was not accidental urine leakage. "My water just broke!" Scully grabs a towel and runs outside to start the car. My mom hops on the phone to rally the tribe. I sat on the couch wet and stunned.
Mom reported this to one of my sisters. "Her water just broke! Really! All over the couch. How does she feel? She looks a little bit in shock. And wet."
Scully bundles Khubz into Gramma's van. Khubz will stay at Gramma & Grampa's. We dropped Khubz off, picked up Tia Lila and off we went: Scully, me, Gramma and Tia Lila. The Bean moved his head at one point and everyone could hear another woosh of fluid dripping all over the passenger seat and onto the floor. Um. Sorry about that, Mom.
On the way to DSM my contractions were four, three, sometimes two minutes apart. At the hospital the admitting nurse asked if I was sure my water had broken and I informed her that I was and, actually, I was dripping all over her floor. Another sister, Tia Teefa met us at the hospital a bit later.
That was all about 9 o'clock at night. Five short hours later our son came screaming into the world. Screaming.
I know that I regularly complain about Khubz taking 52 hours to come into the world. That was a bit excessive, no? But five hours. Five hours was a whole different kind of hard.
I did use some pain meds this time. Something that starts with an F that they give you in an IV. I refer to this as my "shot of tequilla." It was nice for about 20 minutes. The only drawback was that ever after I could not open my eyes without getting dizzy and nauseous.
With Khubz, I did a lot of focusing away from pain by gazing and staring at Scully. Since I couldn't do that I squeezed the fuck out of her hand. I did not notice (it was reported to me later) that she took off her ring in fear that I would bend it. Since I couldn't see my mom or my sisters either I would periodically call out, "are you guys still here??" The nurses answered with a resounding, "YES! We are here! :) " No, not you--but don't you leave either!! I wanted to shout back.
The doctor still wasn't there. As the contractions mounted I informed everyone that I was "feeling a lot of pressure." That was not, apparently, enough to alarm them. " THIS BABY IS COMING! I HAVE TO PUSH!" I was at 10 centimeters. This is when the room filled up with nurses. The doctor still MIA.
The commandment came down: don't push! My feet were locked together to try and keep this baby inside. I needed my socks taken off because they were making my feet slip. Scully was momentarily released from my death grip to remove my socks. I saw a slight grimace as she pulled them off my feet. "I know, I know. My feet stink. I'm sorry, okay?!" Actually, it was that my socks were sopping wet with amniotic fluid. Way past stinky feet grimace.
Another urge to push. "Blow it away. Blow the pain away." Scully, just as we had practiced, was puffing and blowing. "You're taking all my air!!!" I shrieked at her. This was a replay from Khubz's birth. I heard some chuckling from the peanut gallery and began yelling "Don't laugh at me! You don't get to laugh at me!!" At another point I turned to Scully and told her, "Okay. I can't actually be here. I have to leave actually. I can't be here." Where is she planning to go? one of the nurses asked Scully. Anywhere but here, perhaps.
While I was resisting the urge to push, my mom and the sisters were resisting the urge to shout, "just push that baby out! you don't have to wait for that doctor!!" I should have, too. It felt like hours later and the doctor came. He walked in the door and started putting booties over his shoes. I don't care about your shoes! This baby is coming!
A few short pushes and our son literally ran out into the world.
Mashallah.
There are lots more stories, and many thanks for the congratulations and well wishes. The boychild is getting hungry so I'll write more later.
We are all doing well, though. Khubz is amazing even though this is a tough adjustment. Scully and I are doing much better figuring things out than we did the first time round. But stay patient with us. There's not a lot of sleep in casa de fruitbasket right now. But there are these wonderfully, bleary eyed moments of tenderness. Just take a look.
