Yesterday around 11am, I started to feel…funny. Lower back pains, cramping in my belly–you know, in labor kind of funny. I put my husband on alert at work and went about the rest of my day as normal: dropped the boy off at pre-school, got the girl down for her nap, and settled in at my computer to get some work done. But the cramping and the aches continued, so I did what the professionals suggest and changed positions. I readily took to the couch (like I needed an excuse to nap), and lay there for about a half an hour. The aches increased, which were reminiscent of the back labor I had with my son in 2009. Not a fan, but I recognized the signs. Or so I thought.
Called the doctor’s office and just my luck, my favorite doc was in! She wanted to see me, so I put the “we might be in labor wheels in motion.” Contacted all involved parties, arranged for my mom to stay at the house while my gal slept, the husband came home from work, and we left for my appointment.
In retrospect, it’s worth mentioning that I spoke the words, “I don’t feel like this is IT,” before we left, and Zach seconded that emotion. Didn’t know how right we were…
Anyhoo, the non-stress test and excruciating exam (seriously, can we get some doctors with longer fingers?) proved that I was, in fact, contracting and dilated. For those of you familiar with and/or interested in the specifics: less than a week ago, I was barely dilated; at today’s appointment, I was two centimeters. So, progress! That, coupled with the fact that we live about an hour from where I deliver, my doc suggested we head to the hospital in the event that my labor would just take off, as is common in subsequent pregnancies. She called ahead and even managed to let us bypass triage and hooked us up with a labor and delivery suite. Whoo hoo!
I won’t lie: we weren’t necessarily rushing to the hospital. In fact, when we got there, my handsome hubby and I walked down the street to Panera. Hey, labor is hard work and Mama wanted a bagel. We laughed as we sat munching on our carbs; had that been our first baby, there is no way we would have dilly-dallied like that. #ExperiencedParents
By the time we meandered back to the hospital, all of the L&D rooms were full, of course. There were so many laboring Mamas that many of them were laboring (and possibly delivering) in triage rooms, which, if you aren’t familiar with those rooms, are basically closets with uncomfortable beds. By the time we finished the paperwork and the same Q/A session with three different nurses, we were taken back to our closet and all the formalities began: urine sample, blood pressure check, hooked up to monitors, etc. We seemed to be making progress.
We sat around for a few hours before a nurse came to actually read the results from the non-stress test. She never did anything with the pee I had so proudly produced on demand. What a waste. She offered to get me some water and then disappeared forever and ever into the hospital abyss, never to return with said water. When the monitors started acting crazy a few minutes later, I rang the nurse’s desk for help. I was told someone would be right down.
An hour later and no one to be found, and I started to get pissed. We turned on the Pirates game to pass the time (Go Bucs), and finally, a little after 7 (over 2 hours since we had arrived), a doctor came by to examine me. I was incredibly discouraged to learn that I had only made a half a centimeter’s worth of progress AND to hear that the baby’s head was “pretty high,” which is the exact opposite of what my OBGYN said at my appointment only a few hours before. She remarked how low the baby was…
Is it possible to regress while in labor?
Because I did. The back ache was still there, but faint. Any signs of contractions were so far and few between that I barely noticed them. And no other symptoms had surfaced. No bueno.
Finally, around 9pm, my doctor stopped in and started throwing around words like “augmenting” and “admitting for a c-section.”
Because I had a c-section with my son in 2009, I have a scar on my uterus. (Duh). Despite a successful vaginal delivery with my daughter in 2011, there are still concerns of uterine rupture. I’m not a candidate for induction, and the only way the doctors will help the labor along is if I make more progress on my own. Basically, my options were to let my body do its thing all in due time (either at home or in all of triage’s frustrating discomfort) OR wait for a L&D room whereupon I would be “enticed” into another c-section. I asked to go home.
And so we gathered our belongings and my pride, and made the walk of shame out of the hospital. I am home now, typing this at 4am because STILL PREGNANT.
Part of me is frustrated because HELLOOOO this is my third pregnancy. How do I NOT know what labor feels like? I never jumped the gun with the first two; why start now?! Another part of me is embarrassed for the same reasons. When we were told to head to the hospital, I contacted work, friends and family, and my pals on Facebook to let them know it was “go time.” And now I’m all, “Just kidding. I’m a moron.” So, blah.
Babies come when they’re good and ready. I know this. I just thought this baby was good and ready. I felt like a little kid on Christmas Eve; the anticipation and excitement were building and building and now…nothing. Though it was nice to have time with Zach, and be able to give one another our full attention. That’s hard to do with kids and life. Oh, well. Good things come to those who wait and more clichés and whatnot.
And now we wait.