The first thing out of Harry’s mouth when I told him I thought my water had broken was “What did the doctor say? Should we be leaving for the hospital now?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t called her yet” was my response.
“Why haven’t you called yet? You need to call”
I know. Lol. I found myself hesitant to call in, though. I wanted to be sure that my water was in fact broken before I called. I am not by any means fearful of hospitals or medical situations but I spent my entire pregnancy telling myself that I would not get excited or antsy and go rushing to the hospital right away at the first sign of labor. You would too if you were me and had already had one labor that was twenty-nine hours. Yes, you read that right. Twenty. Nine. Hours.
I didn’t want to spend anymore time than necessary in a hospital bed, hooked up to an i.v. and pretty much forbidden to do anything but lay flat on my back.
No contractions? Suspected but not verified water leaking? To me, that was a “wait a bit and see” type situation. Not so much in Harry’s mind. He made me call Dr. Castillo right away who told me once I got her on the phone that I needed to get over to the hospital right away because it was baby time.
* * *
We made it to the hospital in less than 10 minutes, but because weren’t totally prepared for Baby to come so early, we spent another 15 minutes standing in the parking structure wrestling to get the car seat installed.
When we finally made it inside of the hospital Yaya Lupe, Tias Chela & Vicky were there waiting for us. We passed of Kaleb and all his stuff, headed over to the front desk for our badges and made our way to triage.
Less than an hour later, the fact that my water was broken had been confirmed, my cervix was somewhere between two and three centimeters dilated and I was being admitted. A nurse paraded me through the hospital lobby (because the back hall was closed for construction) in my hospital gown, fuzzy purple socks and imitation Toms and took us up to my L&D room.
Then we waited. And waited. And waited.
We sent texts to immediate family to let them know we were there, nothing much was going on and the fact that all I’d had to eat was a donut that I’d scarfed down in the car.
Harry and I did a few circuits around the labor & delivery floor.
I did some stretches and more walking. We were accosted in the hallway by the anesthesiologist about participating in some study should I decide to go ahead with an epidural.
It was time to bust out the lunges and the “Come on cervix. Dilate!” pep talk.
Family came to visit. We laughed and chatted and watched tv and read magazines. All the while, I was trying to keep the fact that my cervix was giving a repeat performance of “I will not be moved” out of my mind.
I was examined and still at 3cm. The pitocin drip was turned on and I was confined to the bed. *sigh*
I’d been very adamant from the beginning of my pregnancy about not receiving pitocin. I’d hemmed and hawwed over the subject of getting an epidural but I knew for sure that any kind of labor augmentation drugs were a big DO-NOT-WANT on my list. Sometimes things don’t go the way you want them and here is where it pays to not be too attached to any one idea about how labor is going to go.
Sometime after 11pm, the pitocin was upped and my contractions were finally going. Baby’s heart rate was great. Mine was on the low side, where it usually is.
Around midnight, the deep breathing and back massages had stopped doing their job and weren’t working anymore…