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Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Wesley's Birth Story Part 1: Now We Wait

On Tuesday night I was sitting on the couch crying and exhausted.
I was 40.5 weeks pregnant, but the doctor had led me to believe that my child would have arrived weeks ago. Though I am generally on the petite side, and I had gained only a reasonable and healthy amount of weight this pregnancy all I had heard for the past month from strangers and friends was how monstrously huge I was... how far past due I must be... and was I sure I wasn't having twins? I'd been 'ready to pop' for months, and miserable my entire third trimester. As soon as we reached 36 weeks, I started walking.
33 weeks pregnant

Literally, walking MILES every day trying to get that kid out. I bounced on an excercise ball for hours. I ate two whole pineapples, but only succeeded at burning my tongue from the acid. I started involved projects that needed to be finished in a timely manner hoping to tempt fate into not letting me finish. Nothing, nothing, and nothing. I would have BH contractions every night. They'd start around 7:00 and taper off around midnight, and I would punch my pillow in frustration. I was dilated to a 2 and 70% effaced. At 38 weeks, it was 3 and 70%. At 39 weeks, 3+ and 80. So I was making progress... but baby could still be weeks away. And despite my Doctor's prediction that this kid was large and ready to go at any time (at 36 weeks!) my due date came and went without any indication that he was planning to budge.

37 weeks pregnant
At the doctor past my due date the doctor asked if I wanted to set an induction or if I just wanted to wait it out. I told him, well, I wanted to let this kid do it on his own-- but I DO NOT want to be 49 weeks pregnant. He laughed at me and assured me he would not let that happen, but I was discouraged and exhausted from all the running around like a crazy lady and miles I'd been logging trying to make a kid move. He went ahead scheduled an induction for the following thursday-- I'd be 41 weeks pregnant. And I went home to continue my labor-inducing olympics.

Sam and his 'hosta-pital' bag.
So Tuesday night found me sitting on my couch crying to my husband. I had just gotten back from the doctor-- oh don't be excited for me, it wasn't because I was experiencing any signs of labor. I had  UTI. Could the world be any more cruel to this over-sized over-due pregnant woman? While I was there the doctor checked me and still 3 and 80. No progress for almost 2 weeks now. I was angry and exhausted. I had given up hope. I told my husband that I was just done. I didn't want to be induced, but that seemed to be the way this was going down. I told him the following day-- wednesday-- I was going to do nothing. Just relax to prepare for labor on Thursday. I was so disappointed. Z tried to console me, but I just wanted to wallow. I went to bed early. I slept through the night. This was pretty monumental because at this point I was so huge and uncomfortable I was barely sleeping at all... in between the 5 or 24 times a night I got up to pee. I woke up briefly when Z left for work. I rolled over and kept sleeping.

39 weeks, and way too pregnant to be photographed.
I got nervous every day that my husband went to work. We'd been running through everything for weeks... every possible scenario how it might go down. Z works for FedEx as a courier so he is out on the road all day. He told me that when 'it was time' I needed to give him plenty of advance warning because he would have to come in off the road and he could reasonably be an hour or more away. This stressed me out, because who knows if I would have an hour? Who knows if i called him to the hospital and had hours and hours that everyone had to wait. I didn't know. I was worried.
I also had my mother on call. She works at a school just accross town and would be the caretaker for Sam when this baby thing went down. She had alerted all the secretaries and various people at her school to patch my call through no matter what... but I was just nervous about that. What if it happened in the middle of the day when my mom was at work and zachary was at work and I couldn't get ahold of everyone? Or what if I called everyone for a false alarm? Or what if... I didn't know when to call? Every day when Z left for work I felt a little stressed, and I breathed a sigh of relief every day when he got home. Immediate access to my husband-- my cool, calm, and collected ROCK-- was comforting. I couldn't imagine being in labor and going through some or all of it without him. Could. Not. Do it.
40 weeks pregnant
So even though for several weeks I woke up to worry for a bit when my husband left early in the morning for work... this Wednesday I kept right on sleeping.
In the 'nursery'.
Everything all ready, now all there is to do is wait.

(Part II coming soon!)

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