When she came back about 20 minutes later, it was with the on-call doctor, Dr. Astle, saying she couldn't get Dr. Winward on the phone, so she was consulting him instead. Dr. Astle checked me, and immediately declared I was dilated to a 6, and at a +1 station--we were going to have a baby that day! He asked if I wanted him to break my water when we got to the delivery room, and I agreed to try that to get my contractions closer together.
While I waited for them to move me to delivery, we called my mom so she could come over, and I sent Adam off to eat breakfast. I was settled in delivery around 8, and around the same time my mom arrived. Then the nurses tortured me by digging around in my veins three times before finally getting an IV started (that was easily my most unhappy memory of the day). Adam came back from breakfast. My contractions stopped, almost completely. The nurse went off to find Dr. Astle to break my water to try to get things started again. While we waited for him, my contractions started again slowly, about 4 and 5 minutes apart. At about 9:00 am, the nurse came in with a bag of pitocin saying Dr. Astle was occupied and would be a little while. I asked for a small dose of pit so that they wouldn't start too hard and fast. If I could still avoid an epidural, I was going to do it, and I knew too many contractions all at once after this rest would break my confidence.
Finally, Dr. Astle arrived and broke my water at about 9:30 am. At that point I was dilated to 7 centimeters. Again, Adam, my mom and I sat talking and playing on our electronic devices quietly while I labored with contractions about 3 and 4 minutes apart. I was having to breathe and concentrate with each one, but with so much time to rest between, I was still talking and laughing and feeling pretty good. My mom went to eat, and Adam and I talked about names a little more. It was around 10:30 am that I had a really painful contraction. The pain was pretty distracting and I told Adam I needed to squeeze his hand. I felt burning in my lower abdomen, and thought maybe if I used the restroom again it would take the discomfort down a notch. We called the nurse in to help me and as I stood to wash my hands I had to really grip the sink to get through another really awful contraction. I just kept whispering, "I can do this. I can totally do this." But I was shaking and I wasn't sure I could do it much longer. The nurse was gone when I came out, so I got back into bed and Adam hooked up my monitors again before I had another contraction that freaked me out. I told Adam I wanted to be checked. Right then. He called the nurse, this is where things got really fuzzy.
I know my mom came back right around then. And my nurse wasn't the one to come in. It was a different nurse, and she kept asking me stupid questions like "what is your name?" and "what number is this for you?" and telling me annoying things like not to bend my wrist that way so the pitocin could get into my IV and that I needed to breathe. I'm pretty sure I was involuntarily yelling and/or screaming a lot as the contractions rolled through me, flattening me like a freight train. I asked her/told her to check me, and she said she would, after the contraction, but I told her that I was having another one, they were on top of each other, so she needed to check me. She was assuring me that this is how it gets, that they just get closer together and longer, and that yes, she was going to check me when it stopped.
Finally, the pain went down a tiny notch and I tried to catch my breath. She checked me and said, "Oh, were going to have a baby right now, we need to call your doctor to get here!" The panic in her voice mirrored my own panic, and I knew the doctor wasn't going to be there. I had to push right then. There was a lot of hustle and bustle and lots of people coming in, but all I remember then was screaming and pain for the longest moment, then pushing once, and then twice, like an explosion, and feeling her slide right out of me. It was the most intense sense of relief I could ever describe. Luckily, they hadn't taken the bed all the way apart, so she landed on the bed, and I remember hearing her cry and looking down as the nurse scooped her up and checking to make sure she was, indeed, a girl. Not that she was okay, mind you, because it hadn't registered in my brain that no one had caught her.