First child - went into the hospital at 4:30 in the morning, finally got a C-Section at 10:30 that night. (And the only reason I’d gone to the hospital was because I thought I had a UTI and the pain was so bad I couldn’t wait for the doctor’s office to open. Turned out I’d been in labor since the night before.
Second child VBAC- went into the hospital at 6:00 at night, got an epidural as soon as they would let me, had the baby 12:00 the next afternoon. The thing that stands out the most about this is that in my sleepy, hazy state, I was mostly asleep, but kept having dreams about people in vampire clothing riding a comet. Woke up the next morning to the news, which was blathering on about the Heaven’s Gate suicides.
Third child also VBAC - went to the hospital 3 separate times, only to be turned away each time. I was still 2 weeks away from my due date, but the Braxton-Hicks were so strong and so constant that I was unable to do anything. I also had an excessive amount of amniotic fluid, and was told that if my water broke, I was to go directly to the hospital (incidentally, my water has never broken on its own). After being turned away so many times, my midwife finally asked for permission for me to be induced; my blood pressure was getting pretty high, I was barely able to eat, and I was truly in a lot of pain. I got the approval on Tuesday to go in on Wednesday morning.
And Tuesday night, at 8:00, I started having the most horrific, insistent contractions. I went to the hospital again. The midwife met me there, took one look at me and said I definitely had the “labor face” and admitted me. They gave me an epidural, which didn’t take. A few hours later, having not slept for days, and still in tremendous pain, I asked them to try again, and they did, but they also didn’t kick in. I started pushing at somewhere near 6:30am. At 8 - almost the exact time that I was to be induced - I had the baby. The funny part was that the Dr that I had was a big, gruff man that I didn’t like. When I saw he was delivering, I burst into tears. He’d broken my water for the previous two, but a different doctor had delivered (because my labors take on multiple work shifts). He had been so distant and unfriendly (to my eyes, at the time, anyway) that I really, really didn’t like him. Anyway, I was too ready to give birth to complain (aside from the tears) and the man was a godsend. I don’t know what happened the first two times, but this time he was cheering me on, telling me how great I was doing, and getting truly excited as things started to really happen, and let out a big whoop when I finally delivered. It was great 