My favorite tag line when someone comments on how my body doesn't know how to be pregnant for 40 weeks is, 'I'm just that efficient. What most women take 40 weeks to do, I can do in 37.' In reality, though, my early birthed children have gotten a little more complicated each time and I do wish Loretta had been able to last a little longer inside. Regardless, she's here now and she's just perfect.
We don't really know what happened that day or what caused her to come early. I'm still a little baffled that I've had 3 babies, all 37ish weeks, and all early for very different reasons. I'm sitting in my living room right now (in a lawn chair - more on that another day) eating take out from the best local Chinese restaurant, remembering the last time we ate there: Tuesday May 12 we ended up with an impromptu date night so we decided to go out for a quick dinner. I wasn't completely comfortable the entire time and as we got in the car after dinner I winced in pain and thought, 'I hope the next three weeks aren't like this!' I had no idea what was ahead.
Wednesday morning I woke up feeling very off. I was having fairly regular contractions and some pain, so Austin sternly instructed me to go to the hospital. It was somewhat against my will because I thought I knew what would happen - and I was right. I got there, was monitered, was given a shot to stop everything, and told to go home and rest. Waste of time, I thought. Plus, I hate the idea that I may be 'that person' going in for no reason! So, I went home, slept a few more hours, and spent the day relaxing and doing nothing. 'Surely I can go back to work tomorrow' I thought.
Tomorrow happened to be the day austin was scheduled to fly to Texas with William, so not only was I determined to not have a baby that day, I was determined he was going on that trip. He was concerned Wednesday night (something about my pain being written all over my face every time I moved) so I promised him that if anything worsened I'd go to the hospital but otherwise it's just how the last few weeks would play out.
At 4:00 Thursday morning Austin let me know things had worsened, despite my best poker face, and told me we needed to go. I said I could call a cab (we had 2 sleeping kiddos after all, and who wants to disturb a sleeping friend to watch their kids for another useless trip to the hospital??) but Austin looked at me like a crazy person and said he wasn't sending his pregnant wife in a taxi cab anywhere. I could either call a friend to come sit at the house and let him drive, or I could be extra dramatic and take an ambulance. I took the first option.
When we got to the hospital the nurse didn't tell me much right away, she just kept monitoring me and asking me to reposition periodically. I told her all about Austin's trip and the things we had to do before Loretta could be born, and she listened so sweetly. Looking back I think she knew the likelihood of Loretta being born that day, but she entertained my controlling and stubborn notion that I had any idea what was to happen. Time kept ticking, contractions kept coming, and I kept referring to Austin's flight and what time we needed to be discharged. He left to get the boys ready and take Charles to daycare, and he came back with William around 7:30. At that point the nurse had hinted at the idea that the doctor might be coming by, and he might want me to stay later into the day. She even casually asked if the Texas trip could be rescheduled. I looked over at William's face and my heart just broke. How could I tell him that his long awaited trip with dada was going to be cancelled due to my inability to hold a baby in full term? I couldn't do it. I even told the nurse (Anne is her name) so. She just smiled.
Shortly before the doctor got there Anne let me know that my heart rate had been 'slightly' elevated since I arrived, my blood pressure was high, and Loretta's heart rate was high. Not only was it high, but her patterns didn't look great. I don't know what that means, but I know it 'isn't great'. My doctor showed up around 8:30 and let me know I was definitely in early labor and things definitely didn't look great. Did I mention it wasn't my doctor? It was his new backup who had never delivered in Monterey. I loved him, so no worries, but at the time I kept laughing at the irony that I specifically picked Dr Alexander to have Dr Alexander - but hey, what do I know?
Around this time I conceded on the Texas trip, but was still hopeful that the various ideas to calm the 2 of us down would work. Dr Feges had a few ideas up his sleeve of how to buy ourselves a week or so. I was 36.5 weeks and if we could get to 37.5 things could look a lot better. But, right before I was going to eat some food and take a pill my heart rate unexplainably jumped up to 160 and Loretta's jumped over 200. Dr Feges came back, took away my food, and told me it was time to get her out. I had developed a fever and signs of infection, our heart rates continued to climb, my blood pressure kept getting worse - no one knew why, but they all agreed it was just time. We rushed a friend over to take a very confused William to preschool and they got me into the OR once Austin was back. Surgery went well and she was out before I even understood the risk at hand.
God had a beautiful plan written out for this little life and He intended for it to begin exactly when it did. I can't wait to see what He has in store next!
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