November 28th, 8:45pm

When I left the doctor's office on Wednesday (11/24) this is what I knew: my dr. talked to the nurse about her inappropriate-ness & apologized, he was impressed with the e-mail I sent him and didn't think the title "Receptionist" was doing me any justice (LOVES IT! PS-one day I will be "Office Manager") BUT most importantly I could go into labor ANY day.

Thanksgiving came and went. It was a really good day. Just me, mom, don & grams. Lots of good food, delicious apple cobbler and a ton of rest.

Saturday marked a very important day for my Georgia Bulldogs, we were scheduled to play Tech at 8:00. Nothing better then a good ol' in-state rivalry and a prime-time time slot. I did manage to get some cleaning and organizing in even though it was more like doing stuff for five or ten minutes then laying down for a half-hour. Not exactly productivity at its finest but it's all I had to give.

Telling this story in hindsight comes with pros & cons. On one hand I can close my eyes and remember it like it was yesterday but not being able to do this in the moment makes me feel like I'm bound to leave something out. But here goes nothing...

Contractions hurt! Hurt doesn't really do the most excruciating pain I've ever felt in my life quite the justice it deserves. So just to make sure I'm being clear here are some synonyms of the word hurt: aggrieved, agonized, busted up, impaired, in pain, suffering, unhappy, etc., etc., so on and so forth. Looking back on conversations I had about pregnancy and birth the topic of contractions was very conveniently skipped. I. Understand. I think I've done as good as job as I could in conveying this to my girlfriends because as the days past it's honestly becoming more of a distant memory. Here's to forgetting and at the same time remembering all that pain brings life into the world. All I can say is I'm honored to be following in the path of the women before me...lol.
When the first contraction hit I knew it meant get the hell up and get to the hospital. Here's the thing though, I looked an utter mess & my hospital bag was only half packed. Ironically, what was in the bag had been put there the night before. So when I thought it was safe I got up, changed my outfit, fixed my hair, spruced up my face and made it next door to where my parents were all before the next contraction hit. I sat at the top of the stairs and called my doctor. Contraction. I moved to the couch and through another contraction spoke with the advice nurse who ultimately said, "Ma'am call your doctor and go to the hospital." In the car and exiting the subdivision I heard from my doctor. Insert relief. The ride to the hospital can at best be described as hilarious. I sent some texts and did manage to talk on the phone twice. My mom and grams had a conversation about a thrift store my grams had went to earlier in the day. It was in buckhead and definitely on the nicer side of thrift establishments. Grams said they had nice coats/jackets for five or six bucks and my mom asks if that included furs. All I could do was laugh. Really mom? Grams busts out with if that were the case she would have bought one. Finally...driving down 285. In all I had three contractions. Yelling, crying, gripping the side of the seat for dear life, breathing and this on repeat in my head..."it's your first baby. this is going to take some time." Please say it ain't so.
The hospital tour paid off as we sped up to the Labor and Delivery entrance. Turned on the hazards. I opened the car door, stood up and quickly realized I needed to sit back down and wait for the wheelchair patiently. As I'm rolled up to the check-in desk, contraction, tears, and the filling out of paperwork. Just a few minutes go by and I've got my room assignment and me and my mom are in route. I get my instructions to disrobe & soon have two very constricting and uncomfortable straps around my stomach monitoring mine and Elle's vitals. Now when the contractions hit there is a machine that shows it beginning and ending. Comforting huh? I'm laying on my side crying. Everyone is telling me to breathe through the contractions but that's easier said then done. I felt helpless against the pain. All I could think of was how much more of this I was in store for because all that pain had only lead me to being dilated one centimeter.


Only nine more to go...or so I thought. Our vitals would be normal and then all of sudden not. Normal. Not. After playing the "roll to your other side" game it became clear that there was a chance I wouldn't be delivering my daughter as planned. Because in what felt like a matter of only minutes it went from "you could end up having a cesarean" to "you're having a cesarean." Enter epidural. Contraction. I squeezed the nurses hand as she very nicely in a whisper told me that I couldn't move and sacrificed her hand to help me through two painful experiences happening simultaneously. I could only take one person in the operating room with me. Although my first choice my mother when she returned to the room after updating everyone waiting in the lobby she asked how I felt about my sister being with me instead. And that was that. She was right there with me as my Elle came into the world.



Meet the Brown's! This was mine & Elle's first picture together :)

I'm a MOM! XOXO