The weeks started off slowly. I spent Monday running errands. Dropped off checks at the bank, went to Lowes to get a hose for the garden at Betsy’s house, and so on.  I was having some contactions, but nothing consistant, or different from anything I had been feeling for the past few weeks.

 Early Tuesday morning, it seemed to me that my water had broken. We went into the hospital. They checked me, I had somehow become less dilated than at my last doctors appointment…and my water had not really broken. That didn’t stop them from holding us in the hospital for nearly four hours.  We got out around noon. Karl stayed home with me the rest of the day, just in case. We took a walk over to Nitsy’s house to water the lawn and take a long walk. It was TERRIBLE. An awful walk. My contactions did start to get closer together and stronger. They didn’t start to get close together until 11:30 that night. They stayed 5-2 minutes apart until about 4 AM. We figured 5 hours of consistant contractions was a good enough indicator that I was in labor. The pain was pretty bad, not too bad yet though. We were at the hospital for another couple of hours, dilated to a 5, not moving, so they gave me a little morphine and sent me home. I fell asleep, for a few hours, woke up in a puddle. This time my water had REALLY broken. Karl was skeptical. As we were arguing about weather or not the color was right, if I had peed my pants or not, I had Another HUGE gush, and we went to the hospital for a second time that day.

We were admitted at 11:30 AM Wednesday morning. My water had broken, but there was meconium in my amniotic fluid. It meant the NICU nurses were going to be there at delivery to clear her lungs and avoid infection. They were looking for that infection.

I labored on the birthing ball, with the birthing bar, walking around labor and delivery, sitting in bed. I only progressed a couple of centimeters. It was 9:00 PM. The real contactions started. Depending on when you start counting, I had been in labor for…many hours. With each contaction the panic in my heart set in. I looked at Karl and begged for an epidural. It was not our plan. But, I began to cry, and the tears did not stop until the medicine kicked in. I cried when the anesthesiologist came in to tell me about it. I cried when my doctor showed up to see how I was, and I sobbed in disappointment with myself as I hugged Karl and he hugged my back as the stuck me in the back and made everything go numb.
The epidural drip. I never saw it until I saw this picture.

My thighs felt like raw chicken skin to the touch. I fell asleep for a few hours. Woke up and was dialated to a 9. I fell asleep for another few hours, and was dialated to a 10, and began pushing at 11:42 PM on Wednessday night. At first it didn’t seem so bad. It got worse and worse with every push. I vomited, and was getting more and more worn out. The pushing finally stopped at 1:39 AM. My goal was to have a vaginal delivery. Just three more minutes, and I might not have made it. I did it!

Our baby Mirah entered the world.

Karl said when he saw her at that first moment, he was overwhelmed with love for her. He knew she was his. He said he loved her at that very moment. He began to cry, which made me cry even harder.

I was stuck in the bed, watching everything happen.
The doctor cleared out her lungs, then they ran her over to the bed with the NICU nurses.







Isn’t she amazing?
Our nurse Danette who was very nice, despite her urging me to get an epidural, and her talking over everyone there. 

The aftermath. It was just gore everywhere. The lost a needle at one point.

Umbilical cord. 

Placenta.

After all was said and done, they brought her to me. 

She attempted a little nursing, and lached on like a champ.
Then the weighed her.

It took Dr. Dabling almost 40 minutes to get me stitched up.
Karl and Mirah left to the nursery for a real bath.

They took me to my recovery room. As I passed the nursery, I saw Karl holding Mirah, trying to calm her down. They got me into bed.

A little while later, it was about 4 AM at this point Karl came in, looking beat. I sent him home to sleep.  I fell asleep until about 5:30, when they brought Mirah into me. She had been crying for an hour, and they finally decided to bring her to me to try and eat.

She wouldn’t latch this time. She cried, and cried. Her breathing was labored, and she seemed warm. In the end, she just fell asleep on my chest, and I cried. They took her away and I fell asleep again. At around 7 AM, a doctor came in to talk to me. They had order a chest xray, and she had fluid in her lungs. Another hours passed, and I wanted to see her. So I was wheeled over to the nursery. They were taking her somewhere, the moment I arrived. They said that she had fluid in her lungs and that she was going up to the NICU for an hour or so. I tried to call Karl, no answer. I tried calling him for hours, and wasn’t able to get ahold of him until 2:00 PM that day.

By that time they had run a few tests that determined what was going on…group B strep.
We both had it, even though I had been tested and had a negative culture.
And thus began the longest week of my life.