I was a miserable pregnant person. I mean, I HATED every second of my pregnancy. By the time I was 34 weeks along I was swollen, pre-eclamptic, and was ready to be done, even though I knew that the baby needed to cook longer. I went in on 9/29 for my 38 week appointment (I was 37w5d) and expected my doctor to call it then. My blood pressure was through the roof and I was gaining 12+ pounds per week of pure fluid. I had an NST and an ultrasound and met with my doctor....

Nothing. He said we were good to wait another week. I left the office in tears, just wanting my baby out and wanting to be done with it all. So I was good and I stayed in my chair most of the week, trying to keep my blood pressure under control because I didn't want to hurt my son.

On 10/6 I went in for my 39 week appointment (38w 4d). I had an ultrasound and the tech commented that this was probably my baby's last picture in there, so he printed some off for me. I scoffed at him, because at that point I thought I was seriously going to be pregnant forever. I went upstairs to have my NST. I sat there for more than an hour past my appointment time; there were a lot of us full-termers getting them done! When I got back into the room she weighed me, and sure enough I was up to 325, 12 more pounds than the last week and 31 total pounds of fluid gain in less than 4 weeks. The nurse took my blood pressure. 200/120. She freaked out and had me lay down. I felt fine at that point so I was a little irritated that they were FINALLY seeing that I was a walking time bomb and had been for weeks. 15 minutes later she retook my BP. 180/110. She went ahead and hooked me up to the NST machine and it showed that I was contracting regularly, even though I couldn't feel it. As I lay there clicking the button when the baby would move I began to feel the contractions. I quipped that it felt like someone had slipped my son a lighter and he was lighting my cervix on fire.

After the requisite 20 minutes on the machine she retook my blood pressure. 200/120. She said that she hadn't expected it to go down the minute she saw that I was having contractions, as the pain was making it stay up. Instead of having me go back to the waiting room like they usually did between my NST and my appointment with my doctor she led me across the back of the clinic and into my usual examination room. She had me take my pants off and get under the sheet. My doctor was quick to come in this time, and told me that things were looking grim. He checked me and I STILL wasn't dialated/effaced at all. I sighed because I knew what was coming next. He would want me to wait another week and I would have to go home and be miserable.

"So, how would you like to have this baby tonight?"

I almost fainted! I was so happy that of course I agreed. Dr. Wildey said that he wasn't even going to let me go out and get lunch before admitting me. He wanted me in L&D, hooked up to the magnesium sulfate NOW, because my BP was scary high. He asked me how I felt and I told him that I felt fine. No headaches, blurred vision, dizziness. That was what scared him. My BP was dangerously high and I could have (and had been) walked around forever and not known it. The nurse grabbed a wheelchair and made me sit in it. I rolled my eyes a bit but was actually glad not to have to walk over from the clinic to the hospital proper.

When I got to L&D they had me change into a gown and started to hook me up to an IV. I had pre-registered with Altru so they already had all of my information. Made the admission process really easy. My husband was still at work at this point so I was a little scared to be doing this alone, but I knew that he would be off in less than 2 hours so I texted him that we were having this baby tonight and to get his ass to the hospital. My mother-in-law had been at my appointment with me, but had to run and get my father-in-law from work when I went from the clinic to the hospital.

Once I was all poked and prodded they began the magnesium sulfate drip. For those of you not aware of that medication let me tell you...IT SUCKS! It raises your body temperature as well as depresses your muscles in an effort to stop seizures and strokes in pre/eclamptic women.

They wanted to give me cervadil/cytotec to help my cervix dialate/efface, but I was still contracting regularly enough that they couldn't. Instead they started a pitocin drip to try and speed them up and have them do the work of helping me dialate.

By the time Chalo got to me when he got off work at 6, I was miserable. He kept saying that my room was freezing, but it was all I could do to keep from peeling my hospital gown and blankets off. The mag also had the unpleasant side effect of making me nauseous. I mean, I had dealt with 36 weeks of morning sickness so you would think that by then I would be used to throwing up, right? WRONG! Ugh. I threw up so many times that night while I was being induced. I kept apologizing to the nurses who had to keep giving me little blue bags.

I was checked at 8-something by the on call doctor, a very pleasant man with a British accent. He explained my condition to me, and I didn't have the heart to tell him that I knew exactly what was going on...plus it was nice to listen to him talk. :) I still hadn't dialated so they turned up the pitocin. At 4-something in the morning I was checked again, this time by the resident doctor and let me tell you....he needs to work on his method! OUCH! The nice British doctor came in and said since I still hadn't dialated, and since the mag wasn't working as well to keep my BP down as they would have liked, they were going to insert a foley catheter into my cervix to try and force it open. My poor husband was traumatized. There were 3 doctors and at least 6 nurses in my room, my legs were in stirrups, and he was barely awake. The catheter was very uncomfortable, and as the morning went on it got more and more painful. They filled it with 40 ccs of saline and left it to do its thing.

At 8am my doctor walked in and I had never been so happy to see a man in my life. I was in so much pain from the catheter that I was writhing on the bed, and the mag was messing with me badly. He pulled the catheter out and checked me. Nothing. Nada. The same 1.5 that I had been at forever. He upped the pitocin on more time; by this time I was on the second-to-highest dose that they are allowed to give women.

He asked if I wanted an epidural and I practically leaped out of bed and kissed him. The nurse anesthesiologist who did them had a couple of patients before me, and they had to run some blood test to be sure that I could get one, so I knew it was going to be a minute. She was in there to give it to me by 10-something. I wasn't scared of the epidural at all. I've pretty much almost conquered my fear of needles by this age, so besides the minor twinge of the numbing medicine needle and then the strange feeling when she inserted the catheter into my spine, I didn't feel anything at all. I was contracting, but not hard enough to really cause too many issues. After it was put in and it took effect I am pretty sure that I told the nurse anesthesiologist that I loved her. LOL She said that she gets that a lot from women in labor.

The rest of the day I just sat there, miserable from the mag and feeling strange since I couldn't feel my legs at all. Dr. Wildey came back after his clinic hours, around 4pm. He checked me and I STILL HAD NOT DILATED PAST 1.5! He told me that we could either try to turn the pitocin up one last time, to its highest possible dose, or we could go for a c-section.

By this time I was DONE. Done, completely and utterly spent. I told him that I was calling it. I obviously wasn't going to progress, and that it didn't shock me because my mother's labor with me had gone exactly like this, only hers was longer. He nodded and said that that was probably the best idea. I was so, so happy. They upped my epidural, and got Chalo a set of scrubs. At this point it got hilarious. Chalo is very, very tall, and the scrubs barely fit him. He also has HUGE feet. The little booties didn't even come close to going over his shoes. None of the 3 different types of booties they brought him were even close. Finally they had him go in stocking feet with the booties over his socks.

They wheeled me back into the OR and I wasn't scared. I was joking with the nurses as they kept having to pump me full of my epidural medicine, since I seemed to have a high tolerance for it. The put the curtain up, let Chalo in, and my doctor began the operation. It went by very fast and I wasn't uncomfortable at all, even when they had to push on my chest to extricate the baby.

At 5:07pm on Friday, October 7, 2011 my son made his grand entrance into the world. I cried as I heard him, and when I looked at Chalo he was crying too. We waited so long for this, and I waited even longer. 9 years I waited for this baby. 9 long tear filled years from my very first miscarriage, to being told that I would never be able to have children after my third miscarriage. We had made it through a horrible pregnancy and it had all been worth it in the end.

Talon Robert Walker P 10/7/2011 5:07 pm 8lbs 5oz 21 in

Chalo went with the baby to the nursery and I was so exhausted from my labor that I fell asleep while they were suturing me up.

We spent a total of 5 days in the hospital due to Talon developing jaundice and my BP issues.