The Birth Story- Part I of 3

Monday, August 20, I had a followup appointment with my midwife. I am 1 week and three days late. At this appointment I was to be “checked” for effacement and dilation and to officially schedule my induction time for that Friday. At this point, I am assuming that I will have to be induced so I went to my appointment ready to ask to be induced that day. I rather just get it over with then have to wait another four days for the same thing to happen. [I guess my body just doesn’t like naturally giving birth to babies.] She said no. I was a little disappointed but I also knew that if that is what God wanted to happen she would have said yes. So, a little disappointed but I understood.

My mid-wife asked if I had the baby measured when I went in for fetal monitoring the week before. “Uh, no?”. “Well, I will make you an appointment right now.” Since I was considered a higher risk patient due to my previous C-section, it was important for them to know what to expect when trying for my VBAC.  If the baby was going to be too big, they would want to prepare and… you know… I don’t actually know every reason why they like to know, but they did mention that if they thought the baby was going to be “above average” they may just schedule a C-Section rather than put my body through the risk. [oh, great.]

Before I left I asked her to scrape my membranes again just to make sure and she sent me on my way complete with an appointment set for my induction that Friday. <Tear>

I called Ryan and then I called my Mother-in-law. You see, my mother-in-law, a strange woman she is. She could be on her death-bed or be suffering with a strange foot ailment for months (cough,cough) and not think that calling a doctor was important. With that being said, she DID NOT want me to drive or go anywhere by myself anytime I had to go somewhere after my due date. Legitimate reason I guess and I am grateful for her concern. I refused she attend my morning appointment but she insisted on attending my other appointment with me. It did turn out being very helpful because I had Lucy with me and I knew I was going to have to be hooked up for at least an hour and no way I could keep Lucy in the room with me. So, Thanks for that Carla!

Such mixed emotions. I am tired. Anxious. Drained. Excited. Sad. I was afraid to find out how big this baby was going to be. Lucy was predicted 8#10 oz and my doctor wanted to take her right away because “if she gets any bigger, I’m afraid you wont be able to have her naturally. Let’s avoid the risk of a C-section and go ahead and take her early.” End result- C-section (as you can see, I was having serious anxiety over this reoccurring scenario).

So, we get to the hospital for another Fetal Monitoring and a Baby Assessment. The Fetal Monitoring tracks your contractions and I was STILL having them and they were STILL pretty regular [I don’t care anymore, I’m just going to keep having them until they rip him out on Friday.]. I was called into the room for the measurement (man that warm belly gel is amazing! ) and as the Tech was moving the Ultrasound Stick (?) around my belly, Holy Crap! It felt like she was digging that thing into my skin. Come-on lady, that hurts! “Uh, could you hold on a sec. I’m having a contraction and that really hurts.” Yes, the contractions were hurting but what was hurting was her digging around on my belly while I was having one. I looked over at my MIL and said “That was a hard one! What time is it?” It was one o’clock. I liked to know what time the hard ones hit. I know it is important to time them but I just thought that I was never going to go into real labor so at this point, I always asked but I wasn’t keeping track. I am glad I asked now because for this reason I still remember what time it was.

The Tech lady leaves and comes back. “Well, It looks like this baby is going to be about 7lbs and 11oz.” Oh thank God! You have no idea the peace that came over me knowing that he was smaller. This took my anxiety of having a big baby naturally way, way down. I was so relieved. The conversation I had with my MIL in the car went like this (this is important to know for part three): Me: Honestly, I am a little surprised that he is going to be smaller because he feels bigger inside than Lucy did, but everyone keeps telling me I look smaller so I guess they are right. I am just so, so relieved. This makes me feel so much less nervous. I mean, he is a boy and I want him to be bigger but I don’t want to deliver a big baby so this is such an answer to prayer. Phew. So relieved. Carla: That’s good. I am glad you feel that way (her lack of response is important for later on in the story)!

Later in the afternoon, my contractions were more regular than normal and a tad stronger. I guess stronger and more regular that I noticed. I, like most Mothers to be, wants everything to be ready and perfect for when that time comes. Everything clean, organized and waiting. In case this was the beginning of “the real thing” I wanted to go to the grocery store.  My MIL didn’t like the idea so she insisted on coming with me. We went. She carried everything. I made sure all of the laundry was caught up which of course it was because I had been doing laundry excessively for the past three weeks. If it was made of fabric, it had been washed. I even washed and bleached my shower curtain and the liner (you can do that you know!).

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. I do remember that Ryan came home from work while I was putting the groceries away. “We have to go get measured for Josh’s Wedding tonight. Today is the last day.” Can I come too? I don’t want to sit around here by myself anxiously waiting and then being disappointed and frustrated if nothing happens. I need to keep my mind off of things. “Sure.”  (This is a useless conversation that you don’t need to know but while I was trying to remember I just thought I would throw it in for effect, you know, so you can get the real picture. Ha.)

I pulled out a gallon of ice cream. I ate 2/3 of it right out of the carton. I was hungry and I didn’t feel like making or eating anything. So, I ate ice cream. I loved ice cream. I ate it everyday of my pregnancy. It often made me sick but I ate it anyway because it was refreshing and easy to digest with such a large belly. Ryan says to me as I am bent over the counter with the carton and spoon in hand: ” What, are you trying to force him out by way of Ice Cream?” I laughed. I have no guilt.

To Be Continued…