I remember Dr. Suess's birthday last year. At nearly 41 weeks pregnant, I was clued in to any and EVERY sign that Ellie was ready to come out. I was ready for her to come out. No, I wasn't. Yes, I was. No...Yes. Who is every really ready, anyways?
So it was Dr. Suess's birthday, and it was a Sunday. I hadn't been sleeping well for at least two months, but the few nights previously I'd woken to mild cramps. Right on. Party = started. I think I even made a Facebook post to the effect of it being a good day for this little one to be born. I was up for maybe the third time that morning, and it was only 5:30am. I peeked out the window above our bed, facing the street, and saw the most random thing. Someone stealing our mail (which we'd forgotten to grab the day before). That's right...stealing our mail. I was so confused. I yelled at him through the window, which didn't work, but CERTAINLY woke Drew up in a very agitated state. I tapped on the window and did all the things that were of no help as he pulled away. What I didn't do was grab my phone and take a picture of the guy or the license plate - which might have actually done some good. And then I just got mad. Mad at the mail thief. I mean, really.
Now that we were thoroughly awake and peeved, I asked Drew if he was ready to meet his daughter, because I thought she might be coming that day. He balked for a second and answered rather honestly with a "No, I mean, I don't know. Really?" I totally understood the sentiment, and smiled at him. The kid thing is really unnerving, even 10 months pregnant.
Throughout the day my contractions got progressively stronger. I called a friend, our old neighbor in Arvada, and asked her what contractions were like. I knew I had a ways to go, so I didn't call or text any family members - false alarms aren't my style. Neighbor friends can answer questions honestly without running to tell your mom. :) By that evening I was ready to call the nurse and ask some questions. Like, "What do I do?" That's the kind of question I had. Or, "What the hell comes next?", or maybe "Why is it not at all like they talked about in class?" That's right, I was not matching what I'd heard in class. There was no pattern, there was no consistent strengthening, there was no shortening time frame between things. There was mild chaos. First time mom chaos. Needless to say the nurse told me to stay home and continue to monitor things overnight until I'd hit their magical pattern.
Pattern my ass. That's what I said the next morning after a night full of contractions and no sleep - several every hour but none closer together than 10 minutes. Drew took the day off of work (a Monday) and we downloaded contraction timer apps on our phones, double and triple checked our bags, ate popsicles and camped out on the couch and living room floor. I was miserable, but not the "consistently" miserable that the doctors wanted to hear about. There was frustration, and there were tears. That evening I called the on-call doctor and got the same response. There's not much we can do unless your contractions are intense and within the 3-5 minute range. I was stuck at 7-10 minutes apart with no hope for progress, and if one more nurse or doctor asked me, "Is this your first child, honey?" I was about to go postal. Later that night it got so bad that I started getting sick, which prompted Drew to call the on-call doctor again. We went for a labor check, and were sent home around 4am on Tuesday morning as I was only 1cm dilated. I was tired, shaken, and my confidence in a labor without assistance or medication was waning. Drew meanwhile, was amazing. He'll tell you he felt helpless and not in control, but to me he was amazing.
I was scheduled for an induction on Wednesday. Around 9am on Tuesday morning, however, I knew I'd not be able to make it through another night of contractions. Drew went to the store to get some of my favorite foods for breakfast, and I called my OB's office to see if I could talk to someone during office hours instead of the on-call at night. I was connected with the nurse right as Drew walked back in the door and I literally threw the phone at him as a contraction started. He stood there blankly for a second and then realized the line was live... The wonderful, amazing (can you tell things are about to get better?) nurse suggested I come in to the office and they'd do a quick check on my progress. We showered, put our bags in the Jeep, and headed to the office fully prepared to hear that there had been no progress. After I was hooked up to a machine to monitor my heart rate and Ellie's and told to click a button when each contraction started, the doctor came in. He took one look at me when I had to stop talking mid-sentence to clench my teeth through a contraction and took me right off the machine and into his exam room. A quick check and we found out I was 5cm dilated, in active labor (even though my contractions were still erratic), and the doctor asked if I wanted to head straight to the hospital from the office. "Yes, please!" - I couldn't say it fast enough.
To be continued... :)
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