Life Unscripted: Corbin's Debut

I have always joked that I was having my kids earlier and earlier, but really with only two kids how can you see a trend. Well Corbin confirmed my suspicions by arriving well before his due date. Eight weeks before his due date I started having contractions. I had them for about a day and then they went away so I kind of blew it off. Well one week later I started having contractions again. I kept waiting for them to go away. My husband calls me stubborn but I did not want to rack up a hospital bill and spend the night in the hospital for false labor. I finally called the hospital after I started having them a few minutes apart and they gave me a list of things to do and if I had more that six in an hour then I needed to go in. Well after I jumped through all the hoops I was only having one every 15 minutes so I justified that they didn't want me to go in (for some reason I was still in denial that I was in labor). Well that made for a very long night! Contractions every 15 minutes doesn't allow much room for sleeping. That morning bright and early I called the hospital again and was told the exact same thing. Well I was only having 4 every hour but they were incredibly painful so I called the doctor on call to see if there was anything they could give me. They were obviously on the same page because I got the same message word for word from the doctor. After I tearfully and loudly vented to my husband I went off to start my incredibly jam packed day.
My doctor was able to squeeze me in that afternoon just to check on me. They were going to do a test that helps predict if the baby would be coming in the next week and hook me up to monitors to see how the baby was tolerating it. They were out of tests so she decided to check me before they hooked me up to the monitor. That is as far as we got. I was told to be safe but drive as fast as I could to the hospital without stopping anywhere because I was already dilated to a six. So now I become a mad women as I jumped on the freeway desperately trying to call people to take my kids, find the number to cancel my dentist appointment (hoping I wouldn't get charged a fee for canceling a half hour before my appointment), trying to drive a stick shift and manage not to curl up in a ball on the floor during every contraction. The distance to the hospital was no longer in miles but how many contractions I would have to endure without running anyone over, all with the fear in the back of my mind that I would be stranded by the side of the rode delivering my own child. I called my husband after the doctors appointment and asked him if he could leave work. Apparently I wasn't direct enough because he was saying he was in the middle of something. I told him we may be having a baby so I needed him to leave work so now I finally became the priority.
After I got to the hospital they wanted me to fill out paper work. The nurse who was called to get my room ready came out and said that I could fill out the papers after they had me hooked up to the medications to stop labor. I was in the middle of changing into the gown when the NICU doctor came in to tell me the procedures if the baby was born. That made for an awkward conversation: meeting someone for the first time while dressing during our conversation. They got me hooked up after poking me a few times to try and stop my labor. The needle was the least of my discomfort. They warned me that what they were pumping into me would make me hot and I wouldn't feel very good. That was an understatement. It hit me while I was trying to finish up all the papers, the ones that you sign your life a way because there is always a chance you may die. I couldn't even sign my name anymore I felt so awful. Now I was having a long lasting, extreme hot flash, feeling like I wanted to die and of course contractions were still coming more painful with no drugs to take the edge off. (Wait I thought that one of the perks after having 2 c-sections was that I could bypass the whole labor thing).
Needless to say they couldn't stop anything. I was dilated to 9 and off we went to the OR. After more needles, more discomfort and embarrassment later, I was on an itty bitty table, without feeling my legs and hoping I wouldn't by some chance fall off. At least this story has a happy ending. A beautiful baby boy was brought into this world with a healthy set of lungs. I got to see my little angel for a few minutes from a distance before they were off and running to the NICU. Many hours later, after I was kind of able to stand and move to a wheel chair, I was finally permitted to see my little boy. This is how I found him:

I learned a new torture while I was there. Going through labor, seeing my baby and not being able to hold him. Three LOOOOONG days I had to wait to hold him for the first time but only after I took out the Nazi nurse.
Well he progressed quite quickly and only had to have the breathing tube shoved down his throat for a day. But it was explained to me that white boys are a lot slower at learning all the things they need to in order to get out of the NICU.