If I ever were to get a tattoo.. I'm pretty sure I'd get this stamped across my forehead.
Why, because its true. As a total planner, a girl who works out every last detail her head. I always forget it. No matter how well we plan, organize and stare at a calendar.. when God has another idea in mind, your plans go right out the window.
Since my last post there were so many changes with the delivery plan of this baby. My due date was changed from January 5th to January 8th or 10th. Not sure why, but it was. This made a December 31st C-section outside of the 39 week window that most insurance companies will provide authorization for. Then I realized that there was a mix up with the scheduling and I was scheduled with a doctor I had never met before. Then I cried and panicked. Then I got over it.
Then I met with Dr. MissesTheMark.. (We have since moved passed our earlier issues and I do find him pretty likable these days.) Anyway, he moved my C-section date to January 8th.
Amazingly, I was OK with this. All I did was change my hair appointment, manicure/pedicure appointment and arrange for someone to watch Toddler T while I took care of my pre-baby, beauty needs. I scheduled everything for Friday, January 4th. I was ready. I filled my freezer with post-delivery dinners. I went to Target to stock up on last minute things.. I mean who wants to run out of paper towels or toilet paper in those first days home?? I called our parents to work out babysitting arrangements for Toddler T. I checked things off my to-do list left and right.
And then I woke up on December 31st, New Years Eve Day. I had the strangest pain in my lower abdomen. I started noticing some Braxton Hicks contractions. I wouldn't learn until days later that BH contractions usually happen in the evening only and if you are feeling them in the morning.. Its probably the real deal. I called my parents to tell them we would be coming to their house for New Years, that I wasn't feeling great. My mom asked if I was in labor. I smartly informed her that I was simply 39 weeks pregnant and wasn't feeling great.
I said that I couldn't possibly be in labor, because;
- My doctors all felt that I would go past my due date.
- I was SCHEDULED for a c-section the following week.
- I couldn't possibly be in labor.. I really, really wanted to get a pedicure and my highlights. (now, I know that sounds awful... but isn't that the beauty of scheduled c-section? And after looking like I was hit by a bus following the birth of Toddler T, I wanted to take a few extra steps to look more human post delivery.
- This wasn't my plan.
I called the nurseline. She gave me the standard, contractions 5 minutes apart, 1 minute in duration and lasting for an hour. Still in disbelief, I downloaded a contraction app for my phone to track the contractions. I figured, it would just prove that nothing was happening. Then I started doubling over when my stomach tightened. Then I found I couldn't talk when it was happening. Then I called Mr. T's aunt (The very level headed OB/GYN). I told her that I was afraid of calling the on-call number, because I didn't want to be sent home for false labor. She advised me that I was probably a good idea to get checked out.
So, I called my parents and gave them a heads up. Asked them to make the drive to come hang out with Toddler T. Next, we started to get all the last minute things ready for my 'quick evaluation to the L&D department. I soon realized that waiting for my parents to arrive so that they could watch Toddler T was not going to happen. I had to admit it. I was having full fledged contractions. They hurt and they were coming fast. It was a bit of a balancing act trying to stay out of Toddler T's sight while I was doubled over in pain. I accomplished this by hanging out upstairs in our room, while Mr. T entertained him downstairs.
Finally we were ready to head to the hospital or hostable and Toddler T calls it. One day, when he is older, I'll share with him the challenges I faced as I fought through contractions while he sat in the backseat and we chatted about nursery school. I was relieved to walk through the Emergency Department doors. Nervous when the nurse said, "Well, please don't have that baby here. Let's get you upstairs." And laughed when Toddler T offered to push me in the wheelchair.
We made it upstairs, just as my parents arrived and after a nano-second to say goodbye to Toddler T, I was pushed through the secure doors of the Labor and Delivery Department.
At that moment, I'm pretty sure God was laughing as my plan went right out the window.