All week there seemed to be this looming anticipation. Concern over ever new feeling or changing symptom. Excitement with uneasiness. We finished packing our hospital bags “just in case” … “but it’s probably nothing.”

Saturday, April 27 2024
I got my nails done in the morning. Joked around with the nail tech about her foot massage sending me into labor. I drove to Glen Ellyn for my favorite acai bowl, a frequent staple throughout this pregnancy. Normalcy continued. We went out to eat at Uncle Julio’s with Philip’s parents. I joked about the spicy salsa sending me into labor. I felt a few cramps, but still made Philip stop at Dairy Queen on the way home for an m&m blizzard. Another frequent staple throughout this pregnancy.

7pm
Contractions were about every hour, but then quickly ramped to every 20 minutes around 9pm, roughly 30 seconds each. They weren’t the normal Braxton Hicks ones I had been feeling for the past few weeks. We threw on Planet of the Apes for some distraction. I called the hospital. I probably sounded too cheery on the phone, because they suggested to drink water and that I was probably just dehydrated. I told Philip to go to bed (he was probably too anxious to sleep), and moved to the main floor. I turned on The Office, got my exercise ball, and worked through contractions for 6 hours, logging each time in a notes app shared with Philip. There was something peaceful about working through these on my own. I remember feeling comfort. Pain without anxiety. I could feel prayers answered. Peace.

Sunday, April 28 2024
3:07am
I called the hospital again with a more concerning tone of voice as the pain ramped up. They said to come in. I kissed Hendo, we packed the car and drove 3 minutes down the road to CDH. Philip still still took the opportunity to run a red light. He dropped me off, I meandered down the dark ER hall hunched over, and naturally got lost.

3:30am
We were greeted in triage by a bright, energetic nurse named Maggie. She was so comforting as my pain and panic increased.

“Good news. You’re 4cm dilated, we’re admitting you!”

4:49am
The epidural was incredible. My legs were numb, and we spent the day in our room snoozing on and off, watching tv, joking around, and being checked throughout the day by sweet nurses and doctors.

9:10pm
It was time to push, and the nurse shift changed. I was greeted by a familiar face –Maggie. I was relieved. She and Philip were the best coaches. Each contraction they talked me through, moved me, and encouraged me. Just us three in the room.

As the baby came closer, I felt a new height of pain. The doctor came in, and the last few moments were a haze of pure pain and panic.

10:43pm
Relief.
She arrived. Emma Jean.
The doctor showed her to Philip.

“Ok dad, what is it!?”
“A girl!”

We erupted into happy, joyful tears. I cut her cord, and had a brief moment of holding her close before she was taken away to get her airway cleared. The next stage felt like eternity as the room went quiet and the nurses and doctors kept working on both of us. Philip went to go be with Emma. I kept asking to see her, asking if she was ok. I wanted her back as my emotions ranged from blissful happiness, relief, annoyance, and confusion as I profusely thanked the doctors, apologized for my panic, and begged to see my baby girl. I felt delirious.

She came back to me, the room cleared, and what felt like 5 minutes was two hours just holding each other. Philip leaned over us and we prayed, thanking God for Emma.

Emma Jean Oster
4/28/24, 10:43pm
7lbs 2oz, 20.5in