The Morning Of Your Birth--Game Plan

I didn't sleep well after the events of the night before.
I really hadn't planned on sleeping, actually.
We were "taking a break" which, in hindsight, was probably Jill's kind way of letting me down easy.
But deep down, I knew we were done with homebirthing.

I'd thought then, that night, that I'd truly never been more exhausted but I would prove myself wrong.
The day of your birth, that morning when I officially woke, it was then that I'd never been more exhausted.
I hadn't eaten in over 12 hours at this point so I was physically drained and mentally, I'd shut down a bit.
I was almost despondent.
So very disappointed.
And while I knew I'd be having a baby later in the day, I had a whole different take on how things would go.

Since I woke up without any contractions, my plan was to make a leisurely appearance at the hospital.
Because I was so tired and would be in the hospital anyway, I now planned on a medicated birth.

(There is no shame in a medicated birth, in my opinion.  Unless you are the woman currently feeling like your insides are being set on fire and twisted up like scrap metal, I say "shut yer piehole."  Luxie, you do what you want when it comes to this and don't let anyone persuade you one way or another.  I'll always give you my take on the matter since I've now done it both ways but there are pros and cons to each.  More than anything else, I say "stay away from Nazi nurses."  In fact, I will gladly help you in this matter!  BUT, if you would like to know, I'd choose natural.  Surprised?)

I woke Daddy up around 7:30am.
I'd slept so badly that I could've woken him at 5:00, 5:20, 5:45, 6:10, or any twenty minute period after that.
But I wanted to make a game plan for the day and this seemed like a less cruel hour than the ones previously mentioned.

I had no idea that the midwives had stayed overnight.
They slept on our couches and it's still strange to me that I never thought about where they went or what they were doing after leaving my bedroom the night before.
I guess it makes sense that they would be there but still.
I was sort of thrown by that but immensely happy that they were near.

I never truly believed that either of us were in any harm, I know I keep saying that.
But I should admit that I was very uncomfortable the night before and was worried about you being stressed from all the laboring activity.
At one point, your hair could been seen from my birthing position so I know it just must've been wild for you, too.
The in and out, and starting and stopping, the strange hands in your private space.
I wanted to hear your heartbeat.
I knew Jill had the Doppler in her bag and I just wanted to hear you.
And then I could get on with my day.

When Daddy woke up, he asked me what I wanted to do.
I said that I knew we should go to the hospital at that point.
What else could be done?
He went to get Jill.

Jill came up and we talked for a bit in my bed.
She knew I was disappointed and tired but I think there was another emotion coursing through me and it was this woman-on-the-verge thing.
I was hanging on by a thread.
What I wanted to do was spend the day in my bed moping and feeling sorry for myself.
And sleeping.
God, I need sleep so badly that morning.

I wanted to be left completely alone--I didn't even want Daddy around.
I needed time to sort of recover from the whole everything-but-nothing from the day before.
But I knew I was totally out of time.
Jill and Abby were both in support of me leaving home and having you in the hospital, the sooner, the better, since now we'd opened us up to infection.
I know this because I pushed the issue one last time.
But THIS time it was YOUR choosing!

When Jill and I were first speaking, she asked how I was feeling and I told her all that I just wrote here.
And then I said, "And last night I was having all those contractions and today--nothing."
Because it was true.
I wasn't having any contractions that morning.
It was like the events of the night before were already a distant memory to my uterus.

I moved from my bed into the bathroom and I started pulling things out for my hospital bag.
I wasn't crying but I was just...quiet.
Tired.
Sad.
Dreading the day.

Isn't that strange to say?
And it's not that I dreaded your birth--that was the only bright spot in all of it.
But I did not want to go to the hospital in my condition.
I did not want to be the homebirth-gone-bad.
I did not want to be harassed about my water being broken.
(And now that time has passed, I can say it: I lied to them about the timing of that.  I think I shaved off, oh, a DAY because I absolutely KNEW they'd totally flip out.)
I did not want to be in the hospital environment, didn't want to stay there, didn't want to leave your siblings, didn't want to, didn't want to, didn't want to.

Jill listened to me and then she planted the seed of all seeds:
"Angi, no one can MAKE you stay in the hospital."
I'm sorry, what?
No one can MAKE me?
I looked at her.
"What will happen if I leave?"
"You will have to sign papers taking full responsibility for yourself and your baby.  And they won't like it one bit.  It's not done often but it CAN be done."

I didn't make my decision right then and there to leave but I was super happy she tucked that bit of info into what was left of my brain because I would later need it.
I can recall the EXACT moment when I made the decision to walk "against medical advice" and it wasn't until after you'd arrived.
I was treated precisely how I thought I'd have been treated by my labor and delivery nurse and the doctor in charge of your birth.
But when that treatment extended to YOU, we were out of there.
(I'll tell you more later.  I'm getting ahead of myself!)

Jill and Daddy and I discussed hospital choices.
She preferred us going to Grant but I was definitely hesitant.
We have a terrific surburban hospital about three minutes from us with a gorgeous maternity wing and all kinds of bells and whistles.
Plus I'd already delivered there twice (Chas and Creux) so that's where I wanted to go.
But Jill and Abby were more comfortable dealing with the staff at Grant as this was where they typically took their patients who needed "help".
Grant, however, is inner city.
Like people go there for gun-shot wounds from bar-room brawls.
It was not giving me the warm and fuzzy, to say the least.
They left the decision up to me and I pushed it back on Daddy.
He felt like they would know better in this situation so I went with it.

(I do not regret this decision and believe that while I MIGHT have received slightly better care in the beginning, I would have faced a much bigger battle getting us out of there if we were at St. Ann's.)

Jill left to make the call to Grant to alert them that we were coming in.
I wanted a shower, even though I'd showered the night before.
Really, I think I needed an excuse for alone time.
I needed to pull myself together emotionally, at least the bare minimum.
I'd already planned to help myself out physically with the epidural so I figured I was good there.
But I needed some time to come to terms with everything that had happened and was about to happen.
I needed to find some strength to at least get me to the hospital.
I was so very, very tired.

I had no idea that everything was seconds away from changing yet again.
There would be no rest for me.