A Baby Story: Part 2.

Okokokokok. I've been putting this off long enough. Where did I leave off? Oh yes...we're entering triage...

So they put me in triage room 3, which is funny because 3 and 7 were recurring numbers throughout my pregnancy. And, we recently got his SS card in the mail and the last 6 numbers are all 3s and 7s. So. So. Weird.

Anyway, it took what seemed like an eternity for a nurse to come put me on the monitors and begin to ask me the same billion majillion questions they ask every time. Apparently, April 14 was a very popular day for water breakage in Metro Detroit. An old wives' tale says that water is more prone to break during a rainstorm because of the change in barometric pressure, and it was raining that night...believe what you will.

A nurse finally came, put me on the monitors and interrogated me like I was an ex-con. I even got to put on the fancy hospital gown, which freaked me out slightly because it once again affirmed that I would not be sent home without a child.

Kelli arrived about 20 minutes later in a state of hilarious/frantic excitement. When she pulled the curtain into my little 5x5 space I couldn't tell if she was going to explode from happiness or totally freak out. Turns out, it was all happiness.

An attending stopped by to perform an ultrasound, which we passed with flying colors, and then the nurse came back in to check me.

HOLY. CRAP.

I know I blogged about the cervix checkage awhile back, but there is seriously nothing like it. Why on all the baby shows on TLC/Discovery Health does it look totally painless? Seriously! I've never, ever, ever seen a mom even bat an eye when the doc stuck his ENTIRE ARM up there. They make it look like, "Ooohh, I'm just fishing around in here...you can't feel anything...tra la la la la la." Not. True.

Well, I apparently have a "posterior" cervix, which based on how much the exam freaking hurt must mean that it is located about 900 miles West of Shanghai. WOW. I kid you not when I tell you that the cervical check hurt more than any contraction I had in the 23 hours I was in labor.

She stuck her hand arm up me and started fishing around. I yelped so loud and lifted myself off the table and probably almost hit the ceiling in an attempt to escape the pain. I started crying immediately and was shaking like a leaf. Joe was out in the hallway making some phone calls, so Kelli held me down and talked me out of packing up my belongings and high-tailing it out of there. God bless her.

Due to the "posterior" placement of my cervix, she had to pull her arm out and try again. AGAIN! This time, she had me put my fists under my butt to raise my pelvis and make it easier for her to find my cervix. Because apparently it was playing hide and seek?

Whatever. Pregnant moms, heed this advice: just put your fists under your arse the first time they check you. It will save you so much agony.

She finally found the missing cervix, pulled her hand out and proudly proclaimed, "1 fingertip!"

I wanted to cry again. Seriously? Only 1 fingertip? That's not even a centimeter! It was so, so, so discouraging. But, if Madelyn taught my anything it was to just press on and focus on the baby, not the slow progress. Slow progress is normal...normal...normal...

But what wasn't normal was when I reminded the nurse I was GBS positive and allergic to penicillin (YAY for remembering!). They wanted to call the pharmacy to place the order for the medicine so they could start me on the IV drip as soon as I got up to my room, so she placed a call to Dr. Seltzer to see what the alternative medicine was.

I heard her on the phone with the doc on a few different calls over the course of the next 20 or so minutes. She was being SUPER rude to her from what I could tell, which was rather unsettling. She came in to tell me they were still doing some research on which med would be the best replacement to the penicillin, and it would just be a few more minutes until they could send me to my Labor & Delivery Room.

20 minutes pass...more phone calls to the doc. More rudeness.

Finally, she pulled the curtain on my room and this is honest-to-goodness the conversation that ensued:

Nurse: "Who told you you were GBS positive?"

Me: "Um, my OB." Who do you think, dummy? You think I just made it up for fun?

N: Right, but which one, exactly?

M: Dr. Ohm.

Scuttles back to phone, mumbles something to Dr. Seltzer. Back to my room.

N: Do you have an alternate identity or an alias other than Kristi Van Wormer?

M: Shit, they're on to my superhero identity...I knew I should have taken off the cape and mask! Um, I was Talicska before I was married? Idiots.

N: But you've been married the whole time you were pregnant, right?

M: Firmly. Yes.

N: Ok.

I could tell none of these answers were helping the situation...

She went back to her little phone station and after another 10 minutes FINALLY came back to my room to explain the insanity that just occurred. Apparently, I was in the hospital computers as "Christina" Van Wormer (instead of Kristina) so they couldn't find my name to order the right meds to my account. Hilarious, no? Yeah...it wasn't for me, either.

So at about 9 pm I was finally admitted to the Labor & Delivery Room. It was so surreal walking in there, seeing all of the monitors and the baby cart and the birthing ball and my bed...little did I know that I would not be delivering in that room after all...

I know I said this post would be from triage to epidural, but I am a long storyteller. So, this snippet ends here. Next time we'll review from L&D check-in to epidural. Smooches!