When my husband went to get his haircut over the weekend, he shared with his barber my history (delivering at 32 weeks), my past three months (contracting, bedrest, meds), and present situation (almost 40 weeks pregnant and 35-45 minutes away from the hospital).
My husband’s barber is a firefighter here in Our City. Firefighters see all sorts of things. They live made-for-tv lives, you know? So his barber told him about the time he answered an emergency call: He opened the front door to see a woman at the top of the stairs with a baby already emerging, head and shoulders hanging down . . .
His recommendation to my husband?
Get a hotel room next door to the hospital and wait there until the baby comes!
Thanks, man. As if my husband wasn’t already worried enough about it!
So anyway, we are in the middle of week 40 . . . but before I say too much . . .
Another disclaimer:
My brother (apparently an occasional reader) reminded me that although I may have included a “warning label” a couple months back regarding my blog’s pregnancy-detail content, a lot of people may be reading individual posts, oblivious to my disclaimer. So once again, if you’re a guy–or if you’re grossed out by discussions of pregnancy stuff, like I used to be, skip right over this post. I try to present things tactfully in the way that I might have a conversation with a medical professional, but I remember being sooo disturbed when women mentioned how many centimeters dilated they were when they were admitted to the hospital. Months of contractions (and all that goes along with preterm labor and having a preemie) has cured me!
So if anyone is still left reading . . .
During week 40 I had another doctor’s appointment on Monday. Like usual, I had contractions most of Sunday night. Like usual I lay there several hours asking myself whether or not we should be going up to triage. But I kept thinking ‘my appointment is only a few hours away–I can make it till 9 o’clock!’ And I did.
Daniel came to my appointment with me, because I expected them to schedule the c-section and at this point I am getting kind of emotional about the whole situation: I’ve had contractions for over 3 months. Been on bedrest for two months. Tons of meds. Here I am, just dilated 3 cm–still contracting all the time–in week 40, and unless I naturally go into labor in the next few days–they said they can’t induce me–I’m facing the prospect of a repeat c-section (which would remove the possibility of ever delivering vaginally again). So THAT combined with hormones, the lack of sleep, and the other nine-months-pregnant feelings, left me emotional every time I thought about the c-section. So I thought Daniel could think about it clearly and respond to the doctors like a reasonable adult. 🙂
I saw Dr. M, which was a bigger blessing than I knew. My pelvic exam was painful–quite painful (for the first time since my pre-marriage pelvic exam), and I thought ‘wow, he was a lot rougher than the other doctors.’ Immediately my contractions returned. He told me that I was still between 3-4 cm dilated. But he was going to send me up to triage, and tell them I was a ‘4’ and contracting . . . I had my hesitations. I really have no desire to spend any more time there in triage until, you know, you can “see the baby’s head and shoulders hanging down there” (ha ha!). But Daniel was very supportive of the doctor’s recommendation. So we left the doctor’s office and drove to the hospital.
Once there, of course, my contractions stopped. In fact, I think I had just one contraction the entire hour we were there. That is sooo untypical! but–it figures.
The physician’s assistant in triage told me that it seems that Dr. M had stripped my membranes. I was a little surprised to hear that, because he hadn’t mentioned it–I thought they would at least tell you before they did that–and I didn’t think they would do that for me since they had said they couldn’t induce. But that totally explained why it was painful, and why I began having contractions again immediately afterwards and felt really really crampy the rest of the day.
Dr. C was on duty at the hospital.
“Of course, you’re having contractions!” he ranted. “Dr. M gives me contractions!” he exclaimed. “I don’t know what he’s thinking [stripping the membranes]!–We can’t induce you because you had a previous c-section. And we can’t break your water because you’re Group B strep positive. So we just have to wait for you to go into active labor.”
I was encouraged, however. Dr. C said he didn’t see a need to schedule another doctor’s appointment. “Because I think you’ll go into labor sometime this week,” he said. “If you don’t, call the office next Monday.” Of course, you always hope you’ll deliver by the end of the week you’re due. . . but you just never know. Either way, I was encouraged: No c-section scheduled. Not even a doctor’s appointment for week 41. And the doctor is predicting it is just days now, instead of weeks, before I give birth!
Monday and Tuesday were yucky, crampy, spotty days after whatever Dr. M did. But nothing “different.” Nothing that told me ‘I need to drive up to triage now.’ Wednesday I lost the mucous plug. With Micah that happened the day I delivered, so I was hopeful . . . but still nothing “different.” Every night the whole week I had the usual 1 – 3:30 AM strong contractions, with regular contractions throughout the rest of the day, but nothing unusual–it was all so very typical of the past three months.
Thursday was the day I had calculated on the Mayo Clinic website as my due date. My mom and I took the kids for a walk to the park.
Thursday came and went. . .
Friday: Another long walk with the kids–to Park with Benches. I e-mailed and IMed several friends about castor oil. I started Googling inducing labor to see if there was anything else we could try at home.
Wow, I know it sounds crazy. But you get tunnel vision those last few weeks of pregnancy, and I began to go crazy with thoughts like ‘I will always be pregnant!’ ‘I’m not ever going to go into labor!’ ‘If it was going to happen, it would have happened by now!’ All of which I know are illogical thoughts when I actually stop and think. But in the moment, it seems so very believable.
These thoughts were countered by my husband’s constant question: “Are you feeling anything ‘different’?” and his thought: “It’s more likely today than it ever was.” [which seemed absolutely insane to me after three months of contractions and no baby].
I can’t imagine being a week overdue . . . or two weeks!
Wow!