Jack's Birth Story - Part Two

We have had a great weekend with Jack - particularly since he let us sleep in this morning! Behold: the second part of his birth story, aka the part where I whine about how incredibly long it took to actually get this labor going!

When I woke up at six the next morning, I was disappointed to realize that my contractions had not gotten stronger during the night. They were still coming about every four minutes though, so my hopes were high that things were progressing. I called my mother and she prepared to come over and stay with us until we went back to the hospital. Robert and I both called into work to tell them we wouldn’t be in because we were having the baby. We called all the grandparents to let them know what had transpired the night before, and told them to be ready to go to the hospital at any time. By ten in the morning, I was getting antsy to get things moving, so Robert, Mom and I loaded up in the car and headed to the mall to walk laps. We walked for three hours, counting contractions and discussing what each different pain might mean. Every few minutes one of us would get a call from a friend or family member checking in to see if anything had changed. Finally at two o’clock, I decided I had to know how far things had progressed, so we called the doctor and asked if we could come in. My doctor wasn’t available but they said I could see someone else in the practice and I agreed. By the time I saw the doctor, my emotions were at a high and I was desperate to hear things were still progressing. Unfortunately, nothing had changed. I was still dilated at 2 cm and the baby had not even dropped any further. I tried to stay calm but couldn’t hold back the tears of disappointment at the doctor’s update. He told me that this was normal, and that I was probably in pre-labor, which could last anywhere from a day to a couple weeks. He gave us the normal suggestions for progressing labor – intercourse, spicy food, castor oil, even an enema. I was definitely not prepared to go that far to move things along!

To sum things up from this point – my pre-labor was on the long end of the estimate, and it was almost two weeks before things picked up. I had decided to go ahead and stay out of work for the rest of the week, and Robert took off Thursday just in case things progressed, but when nothing changed he went ahead and went back on Friday. During the next two weeks, I went deeper and deeper into a depression as people continued to call and ask if things had progressed and I had to repeat over and over that no, nothing had changed. Even though his due date was two weeks away, the beginning moments of his arrival had been offered to us, and it was all we could think about. Every day was another possibility for his birth, and every night was another day that passed without any change. The contractions continued to present themselves, though they would fluctuate from every few minutes to every couple hours. I couldn’t decide what was worse, to deal with them knowing they weren’t progressing anything, or worrying about why they stopped and when they would return in the hours from one to the next. I didn’t know what to do or how to be. I tried walking but would get easily worn out and tired of going to the same places over and over. I didn’t want to get too far from home for fear that I would go into labor and be out by myself. When I stayed at home I would get sucked into the baby stories on t.v. and just get more upset about my current situation. Nothing appeased me, nothing allayed my thoughts about his birth, and each day became a greater frustration than the one before.

By the time my true contractions started on February 15^th, I had completely stopped talking to people about my current labor status. I didn’t want to give anyone information to analyze, I didn’t want to hear anymore that my current labor pains might be a sign that labor was starting, only to have them disappear again. The only person I wanted to discuss things with was Robert. Each night we would talk about how the day had been, and he would console me and remind me that even if things weren’t moving along, it couldn’t be too much longer. On Valentine’s Day we went back to the doctor for our scheduled visit. I didn’t have high hopes that things had changed, though in the back of my mind I thought I was at least another centimeter or so. Again, I went into the doctor with high emotions. She checked me and told me that I was still the same as the week before. I immediately started crying, thinking about all the contractions I had and feeling like they had done nothing. The doctor asked if I wanted to be induced, she could tell that I was getting worn down mentally and told me that if I wanted to move things along, she would be willing to do that. She did tell me though that she felt my labor would be much easier if I could wait for things to take their course, and that she still felt very strongly that my body would move into labor naturally when it was ready. As frustrated as I was, I still wanted to allow things to happen naturally, even if that meant more waiting. Before we left she had us make an appointment for the following week – three days after his due date, just in case. Just the thought of coming back the next week had me in tears again.