One day you might like to read about how you came screaming into this world. I’m writing the story down now before I forget all the details. This could get lengthy, so I’ll divide it into Parts 1 and 2. Sure, I could sum it all up quickly (Dear Elsa: Once you weren’t here. Then you were here. The End.). But what fun is that?
Ok here we go…
Monday, Nov. 29: One day before your due date and my final doctor’s appointment.
You are showing no signs of coming out. Dr. Honey recommends we induce December 7th, one week after your scheduled arrival. I do a little research about the risks and agree to schedule the induction just in case. Secretly, however, I don’t think I’ll need it.
Tuesday, Nov. 30: Due Date
No change. You’re officially and fashionably late.
Saturday, Dec. 3, afternoon:
Your dad and I eat lunch at Devil’s Food Bakery. On the drive home, we pull into an alley where I hoist my >40-weeks-pregnant body out of the car, grasp the side of a dumpster and deliver the contents of my stomach into a foot of snow. Any worry about my loss of dignity is suddenly overwhelmed by contractions. Major Contractions. Could this be it?
We drive to the emergency room. I’m admitted and taken to a birthing room. Your dad and I look at each other… This is It!
Saturday, Dec. 3, evening:
Back home. Oh the shame. I swore this wouldn’t happen, but it did. False labor. The contractions brought on by vomiting became lighter and lighter until they eventually stopped. No dilation. Just embarrassment.
Tuesday, Dec. 6: One day before induction.
No change. Where the bleep are you? In desperation, I fit every folk remedy for starting labor I know into 24 hours. I eat an entire pineapple for breakfast, a very spicy lunch, walk around the block several times, drink rose hip tea and even have a “labor-inducing” acupuncture session – my first experience with acupuncture. The one needle I refuse is the scary dilation needle, because it is placed in the lower stomach area and seems unsafe. Keep that in mind as you continue reading.
Tuesday night, I feel a little trickle down-below, but think nothing of it. I was told that a certain level of incontinence exists at this point in pregnancy. Anyway, there’s no way my water would break with no contractions or dilation, right? Right? Well, there was no way I was going back to the hospital for another false alarm.
Your Nana is visiting us and it’s nice to have her here.
Wednesday, Dec. 7: D-Day.
I’m feeling a little defeated this morning. I didn’t expect to have to be induced. But I’m so excited to meet you, it really doesn’t matter. I’m actually looking forward to the birth at this point, as if the experience will be some kind of vacation. I imagine your dad and I listening to music, playing cards, walking around the hospital, breathing through contractions and sneaking food when the nurses aren’t looking. I’m curious to see if I can do this without pain medication. Gosh, that trickle is still there. That couldn’t be my water brea…no, surely not. I buy some maxi-pads and wish I could stop peeing myself.
We have a sandwich at Snarf’s where I snap this photo. This is the last pic of you “before.”
After lunch we take a 2-mile walk (a last-ditch effort to start labor naturally) pick up a bottle of celebratory champagne, load up the bags, say good-bye to Nana and Ollie and head to the hospital. Let’s do this!
To be continued…