it was 2am July 9th 2013 when I was awaken by what I would describe as rising cramps on fire, then I rushed to the bathroom to throw up, it was the red hot Cheetos I had the night of the 8th after walking 3hours around stl mills mall. I immediately called my sister not knowing what was going on, I have rising burning cramps” I told her she said let me google it, as I started with my “shit, fucks” during what google told us was labor, my sister proceeded to call my doctor from the UK, and I called my best friend IFY to tell her, I calmly spoke to her till I felt more cramps, then my words where “shit fuck, shit fuck” repeatedly till the cramps were over. I kept using the bathroom emptying out my stomach, till I finally spoke to the on call doctor thanks to my sister, who I insisted shouldn’t call my husband yet. the doctor said, what I described was active labor but to wait till my contractions were 5mins apart and 1min long to come in but if my water breaks to go in immediately. I talked to my sister and best friend through out, never calling my husband, I even tried to clean up mu own throw up. At 4:30am I went to the bathroom to pee sat on the toilet, heard a stream of pee but saw nothing when I got up, so I went back to lay down, telling my sister I thought I peed but there is nothing in the toilet, little did I know that my water just broke. as the cramps(contractions) got worst I told my sister that I needed to call my husband and in pain I called the wrong work number at 5am I told them I was in labor and needed my husband, so they transferred me to him, I told him I was in labor and I needed him home, he said ok, I asked him to call me every 15mins to check on me before coming home, 30mins later no call and no husband, this is when I started freaking out, so my sister kept calling him. at 6:30am my husband returned home to an in between contraction calm wife who was still attempting to clean her own throw up (lol) he looked so confused saying stop doing that, so I asked him to do it, he said lets go and my “fuck shit fuck shit” began. after a min they went away I was already 5mins between contractions. after the min was up, I calmly told him to go take a shower so we could go, with a very puzzled look he went to take a shower, as all he heard going in was “fuck shit fuck shit” from his wife who on a normal day does not curse.
The 20min drive to the hospital that felt like 40mins ugh, he was driving the speed limit but all I could think of was, could he drive any slower aaaaaaaaah!!!!! it felt like he was driving really slow and if not that I was too busy holding on to my stomach I might have punched him, after all we laid together to make this baby he should share in the physical pain, but I did not.
Arriving at the hospital I waddled in to a security tat said go through those doors and blah blah, I had no clue what he said so he put me in a wheel chair and took me to the front desk, where a calm nurse asked stupid questions like what’s your full name, what’s your social, do you have insurance, have you been here before….? I looked at her and tried as much as possible to answer all her questions then all that came out after my name was “fuck shit fuck shit” repeatedly. she then wheeled me in another room where I was asked more questions and a few tests where done, I handed them everything I came in with my hospital bags and records, I came prepared but my mouth I couldn’t control, they got some more “fuck shit” answers.