He was determined to make an early appearance!

It was 3:45 a.m. on November 30th when I woke up out of a dead sleep, feeling like I had been dreaming about having to go pee, but didn’t make it to the bathroom – OMG, did I just wet my pants? Then came on the stomach cramps. I remember laying there in bed asking myself, “Is that a contraction? Am I in labor?” The cramps went away after a few seconds, but decided to return every 10 minutes or so. At this point I’m thinking, “OK, so even if I am in labor, and those are contractions, and this isn’t pee, but amniotic fluid, the contractions are still pretty far apart, so no need to rush to the hospital just yet, but I do need to get Mark up.” By now I had made my way to the bathroom, and lightly called out to Mark, “Babe, I think I’m in labor...Babe, I think I’m in labor.” I nearly gave Mr. cool, collective, easy going Mark a heart attack and the poor guy nearly passed out from jumping out of bed so quick. Never in a million years did I think I was going to be the calm one.

So picture this, I’m sitting on the toilet, leaking fluid, with phone in hand to let my mom know this might be it! We had been writing down the contractions to see if there was any consistency to them, and they were finally becoming more regular, so we decided to phone the hospital. They told us to come on down, and they’d check to see if my water did actually break. And I’m thinking, H-E-L-L-O...I think I know the difference between pissing on myself and amniotic fluid dripping down my leg (not to mention the puddle I left in our bed), but hey, you’re the one with the medical degree – we’ll be on our way soon.

Mark jumped in the shower, and I followed. Now our shower is small...very small, but I was not about to show up at the hospital unshaven, so I made it work, huge baby bump and all, and got those legs and muff in order before we walked out the door. But first, Mark needed to install the car seat base. It was classic, 4:30 in the morning, and Mark is in the street with the instruction manual, trying to figure out how to install the base. Guess we weren’t as prepared for the arrival of our son as I thought we were. While he took care of the car seat, I decided to hang out in the bathroom on the toilet, which was the safest place for a woman leaking fluid to be, and applied a full face of make-up. Yes, I’ll be the first to admit this was a vain move, but I was not about to have a million pictures snapped of me without looking half-way decent!

The contractions were getting a little more regular, and a whole lot more annoying. By now we were finally on the road, but before we could get on the freeway, we needed to make a quick pit-stop at Starbucks. You’re probably thinking we were crazy to stop, but all I kept hearing in my head was, “You had better make sure to eat and drink something before you get admitted, because if you don’t, you’ll be waiting until after the baby arrives!” So Mark grabbed me a decaf coffee, some water and a yogurt parfait while I waited patiently in the car – texting my boss in Chicago that I thought I was in labor and here is what needs to be wrapped up this week. More proof that pre-baby – this job consumed way too much of me! Now we were really on our way.

Highway 101 must be the bumpiest, most uncomfortable road to drive on in the state of California. Thank you tax dollars; I’m sure glad my hard earned dollars are paying for the road to look and feel like crap! By now it’s closing in on 6 a.m. and the contractions were in full force and the drive to the hospital was beyond uncomfortable. Screw the yogurt parfait and coffee – I wasn’t able to get either down. At this point, all I cared about was getting admitted and ensuring the anesthesiologist knew I was all for the epidural!

When you’re in labor time appears to fly by. Before I knew it, I was in my hospital gown, hooked up to an IV with my husband, mom, sister, and mother-in-law all by my side. The next thing I knew the nurse announced I was at 6 cm and I confirmed it was time for the epidural!

My nurse Teresa, who I just loved, loved, loved, was consistently popping in to check on me, and after that final peek she said, “You’re at 10; time to start pushing!” Forty-five minutes later the most beautiful little boy was born and Isaac Patrick was in his mommy’s arms at 11:45 a.m.

I’ve already heard it from a handful of friends – yes, I’m one of those; someone who lucked out and had a fairly easy delivery. Thank God – not all deliveries have to be horror stories!