Our daughter was due on Monday, December 13th. At our appointment the week before that, the doctor informed us that we weren’t even close – I hadn’t dilated or softened yet and she hadn’t descended yet. I asked the doctor what the standard procedure was when a baby came late. I had assumed all along that she’d be late, and this seemed to confirm it.
My husband, on the other hand, was certain she would be coming right on time. After all, we knew when she had been conceived and done the math before we had even gone to the OBGYN for the first time – their estimate lined up perfectly with our window of December 10-13.
So come the Saturday before she was due, my husband enthusiastically suggested we attempt to naturally induce me. Although I didn’t really expect anything to come of it, I agreed – it wasn’t like we had anything better to do, and this could be fun!
We took long walks, ate pineapple and Mexican, and did basically everything else the old wives tales say to do. We topped off the night by walking the mall for a few hours, then came home and crawled into bed.
And then I crawled out.
Every half hour.
While frequent potty trips were nothing new, this was a bit more often than I was used to. By 1:30 I had loose bowels and woke my husband.
“I might be starting labor,” I informed him. “But I want to try to sleep through it.”
Yeah. That didn’t really happen, but I was at least able to rest between the contractions by lying there.
By 4:00 my husband couldn’t stay in bed any longer, so we got up. I was experiencing contractions, but they weren’t horrible. In fact, we were still planning on trying to make it to church that morning. Maybe we could go to the early mass and then head to the hospital a few hours later if necessary?
At 6:00 I laid down on the floor and tried to sleep between contractions for the next hour and a half. They were getting stronger, and we realized how silly we had been – we definitely would not be making it to mass. But I still wasn’t completely sure that this was labor.
The rest of the morning passed fairly uneventfully as the contractions continued. I tried different positions, but kept coming back to standing and holding onto my husband. When I took a moment to reflect, I realized that so far the contractions were more of just intense pressure and not actually painful per se.
We called our parents to inform them that I was having contractions – “but just in case, don’t tell anyone else yet!” After all, what if this was the dreaded false labor?
We discovered that the person we had lined up to walk our dog was busy that day and wouldn’t be able to do it. Um, excuse me? You’re busy?? I'm in labor here, buddy! I’m pretty sure that trumps your dinner plans! Luckily our neighbor, who was pregnant herself, was glad to help out.
Around noontime we started timing the contractions. We decided they were close enough and strong enough to head to the hospital. When my husband went out to warm up the car, I suddenly burst into tears. He came back into the house and was shocked.
“What’s wrong?!” he asked fearfully.
“Nothing,” I sobbed. “These are happy tears. Our baby is coming today!”
He laughed and wrapped me in his arms. It had finally hit me. This was really it! Our daughter would be arriving today!
On the drive to the hospital, fear started creeping in. I only spoke twice – once to ask my husband to avoid the potholes (as if he wasn’t already doing his best) and once to ask him to pray that I would be at least five centimeters dilated. That’s all I wanted – five centimeters. If I was at least at five, I’d have confidence and be able to do this.
We arrived at the hospital around 1:30, and the receptionist informed me that she had no doubt that I would be staying. While my husband was parking the car, she had a wheelchair brought out for me. As soon as I sat in it, I lost it again. This time they weren’t happy tears. They were oh-my-gosh-I’m-not-in-control-anymore-I-don’t-like-this-and-I’m-about-to-panic tears. I did not like the wheelchair.
So as soon as we got out of the elevator, my husband ditched the wheelchair. As difficult as it was to stand back up, I felt instant relief. With his arms around me, we slowly walked down the hallway to the labor and delivery ward.
Stay tuned for Part II!