Pregnancy Ponderings

Birth Story Part I

T was pumped to give me my birthday gift and I am never one to deny someone the joy of giving me a gift, so even before I poured myself a bowl of cereal T was handing me a big green gift bag. I had been eying the bag for about two weeks as it sat on the top shelf of the bookcase. I resisted the urge to peek even though I felt like I was being patient enough waiting for Baby Girl that I deserved a little something something. I was able to push my feelings of birthday entitlement away and was a good birthday girl and let me tell you, it was worth the wait.

I don’t know if I have mentioned this before but I love to read. I chew through books at a ridiculous rate. I went through about a novel and a half a week at the end of my pregnancy. Every day while the boys napped, I read. While the boys played in the backyard, I read. When I couldn’t sleep at night because of my gargantuan belly, I read. I love to read. This was a perfect gift… little did I know how much it would come in handy just a few hours later.

After opening my gift and eating breakfast we all got ready, loaded up the van – for the last time as a family of 4- and headed to the midwife’s office. T dropped me at the office and took the boys to the park. I waited for my appointment with excitement. I was one day short of 42 weeks. The midwives were going to start the “heavy hitters” of natural induction. I knew chances were good that I would have Baby Girl on my Golden Birthday.

I went through the normal drills of peeing in a cup, weighing in (a whopping 223… I remember thinking, well at least 9 pounds of that is baby!) having my blood pressure checked and my belly measured. Finally we got down to business and the two midwives started mapping out “the plan.” I quickly turned from excited with anticipation to nervous. They hit me with a bombshell that I wasn’t prepared for and it took everything in me to not break down and start crying. Legally, midwives in Minnesota can not deliver a baby when the baby has gone past 42 weeks. Reminder, the following day was my 42 week mark. That meant I had my birthday and until midnight the following day to have Baby Girl at home. If I went past 42 weeks I would have to go to the hospital.

The pressure I felt to have the baby while both my Mom and Dad were visiting was nothing compared to this revelation. I had 38 hours. The clock was ticking.

The midwives could see the panic and fear in my eyes as I started explaining my “due date is wrong” theory. Both midwives pulled out their little circle due date calculator things and started crunching numbers. They both came to the same conclusion. Even if we conceived Baby Girl a week later than originally thought, the Biophysical Ultrasound showed that Baby Girl was well cooked and needed to come out – soon.

They started walking me through “the plan” which started with both of them stripping my membranes. Both midwives concluded that I was 4 cm dilated and my cervix was soft. This news relaxed me a bit, just a bit. At least I had made one cm of progress in the past week of trying to induce naturally. The rest of the plan consisted of a schedule of alternating tinctures every 15 minutes after downing a root-beer float laced with caster oil.

I left the birth center trying to be hopeful but still on the verge of tears. Poor T about had a panic attack when he saw my face as I heaved my pregnant body into the van. I quickly explained that I was okay, baby was okay but we were on the clock. T was angry that it had taken 41 weeks and 6 days for them to mention that they couldn’t deliver the baby at home after 42 weeks. If the boys were not in the back seat I am sure there would have been some choice words spoken. I agree it was wrong of them not to give us more of a heads up but there was nothing we could do about it now. The clock was ticking.

We headed to Whole Foods to pick up the caster oil and tinctures. (I don’t feel comfortable listing the tinctures I was told to take because I know that every pregnancy is different. Also, I am far from knowledgeable about tinctures and I don’t want to risk giving out dangerously bad advice. Ask your midwife or doctor if you are interested in inducing with tinctures)

We went out for lunch at Applebees thinking that this would be the last time in a long time we would be able to eat out as a family and it would for sure be the last time we ate out as a family of four. The boys gorged themselves on mac n cheese oblivious to the clock that was ticking away. I was able to get some food in me even though the nerves had begun to tie my stomach in knots. All I could think about was the time constraints that were now put on my natural childbirth plan.

When we got home T helped me set up camp in our bedroom. We set my phone’s alarm to go off every 15 minutes. I sipped on my caster oil/root-beer float while T showed me how to use my Nook. I changed into the tank dress I planned on wearing for labor and flipped on the TV and waited for something to happen.

I waited and waited.

I fielded phone calls from family and told them I was taking caster oil.

I tweeted to pass the time.

I prayed that either time would slow down or labor would speed up.

I checked in with the midwife 4 hours later with the defeated news that nothing much was changing. Contractions were coming more frequently but they were neither consistent or painful.

I spent a surprisingly little amount of time on the toilet even after my 2nd root-beer caster oil floats. I did have a bit of diarrhea but nothing near as bad as I had feared. I took my birthday gift with me, sat on the toilet and read book two of the Twilight series to pass the time. Someday when Baby Girl is older and asking about her birth I plan on lying and telling her I was reading one of the great classics not a novel written for teens about vampires and werewolves!

By 7pm the boys were in bed and still nothing was happening. By 8 pm I had given up hope of sharing a my Golden Birthday with my daughter. I was becoming edgy and frustrated. T and I watched episodes of Dexter as we tried to kill time. Again, I will change my story slightly for Baby Girl. Maybe instead of killing time watching a show about a serial killer, I will tell her we watched an insightful documentary. T did his best to keep me calm because stress wouldn’t help the process at all. Dexter was a great distraction. I watched him murder people while I was in cat/cow yoga poses. I watched him throw bodies in the ocean while I paced back and forth in our basement. I watched Dexter take blood samples while I took tinctures every 15 minutes. All the yoga poses, pacing, tinctures and Dexter didn’t do much besides distract me for a couple hours.

I began to fear that the natural birth that I wanted so badly, that I planned for for months, that I researched, that I defended over and over again to my doubting family wasn’t going to happen.

Just before 9 pm things began to change. My spirits instantly lifted. I became exited and T began to fill the birthing tub.

Things were starting to head in the right direction. Scratch that. Baby Girl was starting to head in the right direction!

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