On November 7, 2013, I went into labor with Bambino. It was about 3.30a when the first real contractions started. I waited for an hour like the doctors suggested to see if the contractions are real by timing there frequency. When the contractions started coming about two minutes apart, I knew this was the real deal and it was time for me to go to the hospital. I woke up my husband and told him that I think it was time. My contractions seem different the second time around because it didn’t seem that painful than the first time. It was about four forty five, I rushed to the bathroom vomited and then afterward removed my bowels. My husband calls his mother saying that I was in labor and that she need to come over to watch The Don; she lives around the corner from us.
My husband got my overnight bag, helped me put on his hoodie sweatshirt because the air was a little chilly that day, and then we started down the stairs. I remember standing at the stop of the stairs, waiting for my contractions to subside so I can make it down the sixteen stairs to the first floor. When my contractions subsided, I moved as fast as I could within the two minutes that I had before the next contraction hit. We made to the bottom step, and as soon as I did, another contraction started. I paused near the bottom step, crept into the kitchen to sit and wait until my mother in law to come.
It was about five fifteen when my mother in law came. I stood up and was ready to go. We all walked me out the front door, down the stairs, and across the street to the car. My mother in law kept telling me to breathe, but it seem like every time I breathe, I felt like I wanted to push. I guess that was the objective goal is to gently push the baby out. My husband got in the car and had to drive up a little because the passenger side door was blocked by a tree. It seem like my husband was going in slow motion as he inched up the car enough so I can get in. I remember yelling “Come on!” as my contractions started to become stronger. He opened the car door and my mother in law gentle guided me into the car. It was about five thirty and we were on our way to the hospital.
When we arrived at the hospital, we drove up to the valet, got out of the car and walked in. This is our second child and I still couldn’t remember to go to the emergency room when giving birth. So we had to wait until the security guard to find a wheel chair for me to sit in. As long as it took him to find one, which was about three minutes, we could of walked to the emergency room. When we finally got checked in to the emergency room, we were whisked away to the elevator to the seven floor of labor and delivery. I took my clothes off, putting on the patient gown, lay on the table and spread my legs so the nurse can feel how dilated I was. Why is it so painful when they reach in your vagina to measure how dilated you are? There’s got to be a better way. I was five centimeters. I asked the nurse, “What are my contractions, two minutes apart?’ She said yes. I already knew that but it felt good that she verified it. Another strong contraction hit, then another, then another. The nurses took me in the labor and delivery room. The nurses stuck me with an IV needle, stirrup my legs, and made sure the monitor for Bambino’s contractions and heart rate were securely taped on my belly.
Fast forward to Bambino’s nine month doctors appointment this afternoon. I was holding him, my arm under his butt when the receptionist commenting on how cute he was although he had a serious face. He turned his head towards the waiting room and was flirting by smiling at one of the ladies who was waiting for her sixteen year old son to finish his checkup. The receptionist was joking saying “I know you didn’t just smile at her.” I said to her, “I see I have women fighting over him already.” The woman that Bambino was smiling at said, “Yep, you have to get use to that.”
I sat in the waiting room with Bambino. Bambino didn’t want to sit in my lap and wanted to cruise and hold on the chairs to stand. The reception calls out to me and said, “Would you like to make his twelve month appointment today?” It hit me like a bolt of lighting; Bambino will be one year old in three months. THREE MONTHS! I was telling the receptionist that it felt like I just had him yesterday. Just like it was yesterday.
|Bambino (9mos) and Mama|