Tuesday, May 7th
Went to the doctor after realizing I had felt absolutely no fetal movement in over 24 hours. Eleanor had been an active baby all throughout her pre-birth life, so I panicked a bit and went in for an NST. They found her heartbeat right away, and all was well. My doctor did a cervical check since I was already in, and I was dilated about 3 and a half centimeters with 75% effacement. He offered me the option of doing a membrane sweep, which could start the hormonal process that results in labor. Hell yes, please. He did it. Slightly uncomfortable, but not awful. Almost immediately afterward, I started feeling frequent, irregular contractions.

Wednesday, May 8th
Regular(ish), timeable(ish) contractions all day. Not regular enough to be in that 5-1-1 range, and I was horrified of accidentally crying wolf and being sent away from triage, so I continued to let them build. All night.

Thursday, May 9th
I woke up in the morning after a night of sleeplessness, and was again having irregular contractions. I made my fiance his breakfast and lunch, as always, and sent him on his way to work. Immediately after he left, the contractions became very uncomfortable and regular. I was still scared of crying wolf, so I decided that instead of calling my doctor, I'd force my fiance to deal with my contractions as well, and started texting him the word "hurts" every time a contraction started. After 2 hours, I realized that I'd texted him every 5 minutes almost on the dot. I got to the point where every time I had one, I couldn't do anything but whine and writhe, so I sucked it up and called my OB. He was very reassuring, and very certain that I was in labor and had been for some time. He told me I could go to the hospital then, or wait until 3:30 at the latest so we wouldn't get stuck in rush-hour traffic. I opted to wait as late as possible, again to avoid being turned away from triage. So I called my fiance home and continued to labor at home until 3:30.

The Birth

4:15 p.m.
When we got to triage, they administered a cervical check. I was 5 centimeters, 100% effaced, and confirmed in labor. I was given a room, and continued to labor unmedicated for a while.

6:15 p.m.
After 2 hours of painful contractions, another cervical check was done and I was 6 1/2 centimeters. Yay! It was working. The pain was shitty, but manageable. So I kept it up, and it got worse. I used my coping strategies of breathing and distracting myself, and was able to make it through the next few hours.

9:00 p.m.
Contractions continued, and the jacuzzi sounded nice. So I got in. Immediately, the contractions stopped. I was totally our of pain, and felt like I was totally out of labor. Not a good thing. So I got out. I walked around, and they eventually started back up, but not nearly as strong or long as they had previously been.

12:00 a.m., May 10th
Cervical check. 6 1/2 inches. STILL. No progress at all. So my doctor started a pitocin drip to kick things up. My plan had been to go as natural as possible, but things just weren't moving and I decided to be flexible. So I accepted it. Contractions kicked back up and were stronger and closer together, but still totally manageable.

2:00 a.m.
Labor still wasn't moving. I'd made it to 7 centimeters, and was really really tired. My doctor offered to break my bag of waters and I accepted. HOLY SHIT, batman. The water breaking didn't hurt, but every contraction afterward did. Lightning rods and knives all up in my cervix and belly. I couldn't take it. After 5 or 6 of those contractions, I caved and begged for an epidural. They ordered it, and I continued crying and screaming through the contractions until it arrived. They set it up, and it was a piece of cake. About 10 minutes later, it kicked in, and the contractions stopped hurting.

5:00 a.m.
Immediately after the epidural kicked in, I was in the pushing phase. Apparently, I made it most of the way through without medication. I had lots of pressure in my back, and told them. They told me if I was ready, I could push. So I did. And 44 minutes later, BABY. Perfect, wrinkly, slimy, poopy-all-over-my-chesty, awesome little baby.

She was 7 pounds, 12 ounces, and 20 1/2 inches long. She is the most amazing thing in the world, and refuses to fuss over anything. Super chill, super mellow, super perfect, super Eleanor.