I woke up having contractions that Thursday. I had been having them for a few weeks, so I prayed that these were nothing more than Braxton Hicks, and I went off to work. I was teaching a lesson in iambic pentameter (something I would NEVER leave for a substitute) and I had a few more loose ends to tie up before my sub came on Monday. All through the day I watched the clock and timed my contractions; they were 30 then 20 minutes apart, but I just kept saying, "Not today." Steve was coming on Saturday, so Stella would have to wait until her Daddy got here to make her appearance.
By the time I got home, they were now 15 minutes apart. My mom and I were alone for the night because Dad had his last football game of the season, so I decided to level with her. I told my mom that it wasn't a huge deal, but I think I was having contractions during the day. After a lot of downplaying and slight lying, she finally got it out of me that I was having contractions 20 minutes apart. I REALLY didn't want to call Steve because I did not want to worry him. I knew I would feel terrible if I made him crazy trying to get a last minute flight and then have nothing happen. But, my mom decided to call him. After much stress and last minute throwing together of things, Steve was on his way to the airport.
During this time, I had sat down and decided to watch a re-run of Anthony Bourdain:No Reservations in Venice. Over the course of an hour episode, my contractions jumped from 15 minutes to 8 minutes. I had an app on my phone that I was using to time my contractions, but I honestly thought that I may have been using it wrong or it was broken. There was no way my contractions could pick up like this! Somehow in all of this, I was convinced that I did not need to go to the hospital. I did not want to embarrass myself and show up with false labor pains. I had never had a baby before, so maybe these weren't real contractions. Finally, when we hit the 5 minute mark, I was finally convinced to pack my bags and go. Between my doctor saying to leave when they hit this time marker, and my nurse-aunt telling me to "get my butt in the car," we made our way down to St. Mary's.
When we arrived around 7:30 p.m., I was fully prepared to be laughed out of the hospital. Maybe I was being a wuss; I really had no prior experience to fall back on, so I was sure they would tell me that I was far from delivering a baby. After a quick and unnecessary wheelchair ride, I was checked in and examined. I was apologizing and saying that I was sure that this was nothing, but the nurse informed me that I was on my way and would be staying where I was. Before I knew it, I was all hooked up, my mom and aunt were there, and it was looking like showtime was right around the corner. We were only missing two things: Dad and Grandpa!
After assessing the situation, we had a game plan: SLOW THINGS DOWN! My doctor was convinced Stella would be born by 9 p.m., so we needed to stall things until the most important men made their appearances. Steve called to say he was in Vegas, and I lied and said we were just checking into the hospital. At this point, it was 9 p.m. and my epidural had long been in, so Mom, Aunt Margo, and I waited. Luckily, my prince of a cousin, Brady, was long into a recon mission to get my dad and Steve to the hospital. He actually drove over to the football field to find my dad and tell him to come to the hospital! Dad was there quickly (after a long story involving a double parked car) but still no Steve.
Hours passed and I progressed. We were all starting to worry whether or not Steve would get to see Stella be born. On a lighter note, we really were enjoying ourselves! My mom and dad were swapping stories with Brady and his girlfriend, Shelby; Aunt Margo was talking me through everything and checking up on my progress; and I just sat and enjoyed our little pre-birthday party :). My sister, Samantha, called numerous times to remind me to "check my make-up," "not poop on the baby," and "try to wait until tomorrow" because her favorite number is 28. We were inching towards 11:15 p.m., the time when Steve's flight landed. Brady left for the airport to get Steve. He told him to leave his bags because he was going to miss it, and then... there he was!
I don't know what it was, but I think the relief of having Steve there made Stella relax too. This baby that was coming "any second" all of the sudden decided to take her time. It was excellent; we all had a few hours to catch up and have a lot of laughs before there was one more in the room.
Around 1:30 a.m., Stella decided she had waited long enough. I could not believe how fast and easy it was (thank you, epidural) but my sister got her wish; Stella Mia Adkins was born at 1:40 a.m. on October 28th, Nevada Day. This beautiful, tiny peanut entered the room and it was like nothing else. She was immediately trying to roll off of the table towards her Dad's voice. She was so quiet, calm, and collected. Stella joined the birthday party we had already been enjoying, and we all had a moment to reflect on the crazy events from the day.
There it is; the story of how our own little star came to be born! I still can't believe that everything worked out as well as it did, and we all made it there for her big moment. I should have known better than to have expected everything to go according to plan, but I am sure that Stella will love to hear one day about the big show that was her birthday. Needless to say, I am so very thankful that Steve got to see Stella be born, and more importantly, that Stella was born as perfect as perfect can be. The theatrical day that started out with a lesson in Shakespeare, ended with a perfect masterpiece.
Stella Mia Adkins
October 28, 2011
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