By the time I was in my fourth pregnancy, I didn't know what to expect anymore. I went to the hospital several times for false labor, including once when I had contractions every 2–3 minutes for 10 hours straight, but labor wasn’t progressing. I had never gone past my due date before, and this time was different. Luckily, because with my second child, I had to be hospitalized for two days when I reached 40 weeks.
After a night of excruciating headaches and a good stripping, the gynecologist sent me for a fetal monitor and blood tests. Everything looked fine, so I went home with my 4-year-old son. I tried to take a nap, but I had some strange stomach pains. I tell myself it can’t be contractions because my belly isn’t getting hard, but strangely, these pains keep coming at regular intervals. I call my partner, who works in Montreal, and he’s on his way. I calculate how long it will take him to get here, since I’m home alone with my son and my two older kids are due back from school soon.
I finally realize that this must be the day I’ll meet my first daughter. By the time my partner arrives, we’ve called in help to watch the three boys. We finally head to the hospital at 4:15 p.m. At 4:26 p.m., we call the hospital to let them know we’re on our way. We live in the countryside, and the drive to the hospital takes 40 minutes. My partner thought things were getting really intense and that maybe we should call an ambulance. I convinced him we’d have time to get there. That was a mistake—with the next contraction, I felt the urge to push. So we called an ambulance.
The paramedics tell me that we'll take it at my own pace to get out of the pick up. Easy for you to say when I’m having contractions every 1 minute and 30 seconds and each one lasts 1 minute and 15 seconds! After walking around with my butt hanging out on the side of Highway 15 South, I finally got into the ambulance. I wanted to push. The paramedic told me I could do it if I wanted to and to let him know if I wanted him to do anything… I was terrified!! So I convinced myself that I was 10 cm dilated and that I could push. With two pushes and not even 5 minutes in the ambulance, my princess was born at 4:59 p.m. It was the first delivery either of the two paramedics had ever assisted with. By the time Dad arrived at the hospital, it was all over, but at least he got to cut the cord.
My daughter, who wasn't in such a hurry to arrive, made a grand entrance when she finally decided to come out. A special thank you to those two paramedics, who showed great professionalism and helped me experience an unforgettable moment.