I am not a lot of things. One of those things is the girl who believes that sometimes you just "know" something, that your body sends you messages and you should trust them. The other of those things is the girl who can endure any sort of discomfort without all the pain relieving options available to her fully utilized.
Well, newsflash- apparently, I am now both.
Monday morning I had this weird feeling. Small, subtle contraction-like sensations that just seemed different. But I didn't say anything, because I didn't want to jinx the possibility that maybe, just maybe, I was gonna put this whole pregnancy thing behind me sooner rather than later. I figured I was just being over-sensitive and hopeful, imagining what I wanted to happen was happening when in reality, everything was business as usual.
Then, while watching Ohio State play Oregon in the College Football National Championship, I felt a magnified version of said subtle contraction-like sensation, and heard- or maybe felt (as I said, I am not that all-in-touch-with-my-body-girl) a weird "pop" sound. Yep, my water had broken- amongst other things. Called the doctor, she kinda blew me off (I now have a theory about OB-GYNS profiling certain "types" of girls as drama queens and as such, ignoring their initial claims of labor) telling me to eat and rest up and most likely "labor" wasn't imminent, rather something that could happen around 3am otherwise we would connect in the morning.
Meanwhile, Brian downloaded a "contraction counter" app and was calling out to me as I winced in pain- "Is it mild? Is it moderate? Is it still going on?!" The whole scene was very funny, looking back. Anyway, about 10 minutes after hanging up the phone, the contractions were getting severe, so we hopped in the car, and off to the hospital we went.
I won't bore you with the details- but in summary- I arrived at 11:10pm. At 11:42 pm, I had a baby. In order to get an epidural, a minimum of 30 minutes is needed of IV fluids plus a blood test. We had time for neither. So I pushed this puppy out sans drugs. Which is something I, and anyone who has ever met me, would have NEVER imagined. It was insanely painful, but even more insanely life changing. Especially in the midst of my current self-doubting state where I had been feeling like a shoddy mom hiding behind help in order to shirk my "den mother" duties, I don't think there was a better thing that could have happened to me. I screamed, I swore, I sweat (profusely) and I pushed. And I did it. I felt every single sensation. And I never want to do it again. But I am glad I did it all the same.
And then, there was Goldie.
Goldie Nora Falik arrived on Monday, January 12th at 11:42pm. I am unabashedly obsessed with her name- it honors Brian's maternal grandparents, Rube and Bea Golding, and my maternal grandma, Nora. And when Alexa says "Goldie", it is pretty much the cutest thing ever.
I am sure much of the feeling of calm I have had since Monday night has to do with this not being our first rodeo. I remember when we had Lex, how jealous I was of the relaxed swagger of the second time parents as they strolled out of the maternity ward, confidently holding a newborn competently strapped into a carseat. This time around, we were totally those people, and milked every moment of it. But I also think that the way Goldie came into the world has a lot to do with it too. For the first time in a very very long time, I actually feel like I've got this.
Time will tell, right? But for now, I am just enjoying the quiet calm, soaking up the sleepy moments with the utmost certainly that I will never be doing this again.