Natalia's due date was October 28, but we (and the doctors) really expected her to come early. During every prenatal appointment throughout the last two months of pregnancy, I was told things like, "this is a BIG baby" and "you've got a big one in there." I finally said I would punch the next doctor who told me how big the baby was unless they also said the baby was coming out. It put me on edge to feel like the baby could come at any moment since that meant we always had to have a backup plan for Annika. Luckily, my sister Carly agreed to be on call for us and even came over one night for what ended up being a false alarm. Physically the end of this pregnancy was a lot easier than my first, but I had a lot of false contractions this time and was beyond ready for this baby to come.
Scott and I got into the habit of taking long walks during the weekends. On one of these walks on a Saturday afternoon, I started feeling pretty uncomfortable, but didn't want to get my hopes up. As we entered our building, we saw our car wasn't where we left it. We then realized they put up brand new "no parking" signs and our car (and the hospital bag in the trunk) had been towed. Scott rushed to the tow pound, but it had closed and wouldn't reopen until Sunday morning. We laughed about it and joked that I better not go into labor.
That night I had tons of contractions. I assumed they were just more braxton-hicks, but around 3 AM I started thinking that this could be it. I wanted to hold out until we could get our car back. Morning came, and I played with Annika, who was especially cute, dancing around to music with her stuffed dog. Scott was able to get the car and we called Carly to come over. We hung out with her for a couple of hours before heading off to the hospital, stopping at Ample Hills for a final pregnancy treat, since I don't eat dairy when nursing. We got to the hospital around 3:30, and saw the doctor about 4:30. He said, of course, "this is a big baby." I then asked if it was going to come out. He said yes, so I didn't punch him. He said I had two choices: get admitted right away and be hooked up to an IV, or go for a walk for an hour or two. Walking sounded much more appealing, so Scott and I walked through the surrounding neighborhoods to a taqueria I wanted to try. By the time we were eating dinner, the contractions were getting pretty intense. I began timing them using the clock on the soccer game they had playing on the TV. I also tried to hide my face during the contractions so I wouldn't scare the waitresses. After awhile, I thought it was probably time to start heading back. We ran a couple of errands and by the time we neared the hospital, the contractions were bad enough that I couldn't walk or talk, which was new to me because I didn't really feel any pain with Annika. They admitted me right away. It was not very busy (unlike when Annika was born, when we had to wait a long time for a room and the doctors kept getting called away to other patients) so the doctors and nurses were in the room all the time. They hooked me up to the IV, and started talking about an epidural and breaking my water. Things seemed to be happening too fast for me, so at one point I asked if we could wait five minutes. They said sure, but they all just stood there.
They asked Scott to step out of the room for a few minutes while I got an epidural (I had flirted with the idea of not getting one this time around, but I was in pretty bad pain by the time I was admitted so I decided to go with it, and am glad I did) and then again a few minutes later. While he was out of the room, I suddenly heard the baby's heart rate slow down. The nurse rushed over and looked worried, telling me the baby was "misbehaving." She pushed me from side to side, messed with the monitor, and then began making phone calls. A bunch of doctors and nurses came in the room. Two pushed on my stomach, saying, "c'mon, baby." I was pretty scared by that point, and finally asked if Scott could please come back in the room since I couldn't really hear what the doctors and nurses were saying to each other. Luckily, they got things under control a few minutes later, and the baby's heart rate went back up.
At that point, things started progressing quickly. At one point I saw that it was 11:55 PM, so I realized the baby would not be born that day. The doctor came in right after that, and I began pushing. It was incredibly intense -- I heard myself screaming and could not believe those sounds were coming from me. Less than 10 minutes later, the baby was born!
Scott said, "It's a girl!" He then turned to the doctor and said, "right?" I guess he was at a bad angle. Scott said his first thought was, "That's ok, maybe the next one will be a boy," while I thought, "two girls is totally fine." The doctor explained that she was posterior, which is what made the pushing so intense. The nurse joked that she came out waving, since she had her hand up next to her head. I later found out that she also had the cord wrapped around her neck and they had the NICU present because of her fluctuating heart rate.
Scott and I both were predicting a boy, so we weren't settled on a girl's name. We had planned on naming a boy Reid Jeffrey, after my grandma's maiden name and Scott's dad's name. Natalia was our original plan for a girl, but I wondered if it was too common or too girly. We debated other names, like Octavia, but settled back on Natalia in time for the birth certificate deadline the next day. We chose Jan, my mom's mom's first name, as her middle name.
Annika's last hours as an only child.
Right before we left for the hospital.
Scott coined this "the last supper."
During- and post-contraction.
I had Scott take this picture so I could remember my enormous belly.
My girl!
Proud Papa!
First visitors!
