Four hours later after steady contractions, four popsicles (can’t have anything else), two ice chips and two and a half episodes of “the Americans” they come to check me again.
Did I say it was painful last time? Forget about it, I must have been delusional. This is PAIN, this is what they talk about when they talk about pain, I actually scream (so unlike me) as I try to get away from that metal object and the nurse’s fingers.
The large pad they put underneath me in the bed fill with blood, even I can see that (and feel it).
I had told my husband to go eat again since I didn’t think that he wanted to be part of this and I didn’t know how I was going to react. I expected pain and PAIN I got.
Luckily its over quickly and I fill with a sense of pride “I am really doing this for my baby, I will be a lot more “open” and effaced now and baby will be coming soon”.
I anxiously wait for the nurses to tell me my prognosis, 4 cm? 6? More? I catch them glancing at each other with confused looks and my hope turns into worry. “How much?” do I ask, “How many?” …
The main, very maternal mom slowly shakes her head and manages not to look me in the eye “Still barely 2 cm and cervix about the same” she mumbles. WHAT???
Great, just great, they won’t answer my questions why, but instead they leave the room to go find out if they are allowed to give me another pill.
My contractions are steady and bearable but very uncomfortable.
As my husband comes back I yell at him that I thought contractions would actually do something. Aren’t they supposed to open you up? (Like this is somehow his fault…and you know- I’m not exactly alone in this-but sometimes that’s the way I feel).
I’m only 6 hours into labor after all and things might start progressing soon and quickly, so I settle down as we finish another episode of the Russian 80’s spies in America. I can still somewhat concentrate on the show and hold an intelligible (if not very smart) conversation with my husband.
After some more TV, it is late afternoon and we briefly discuss what will happen during and after the birth of our daughter. It is difficult to know what to expect and it’s hard not to worry but we are trying to keep a positive outlook. My husband tries to reassure me that everything will be fine, she will be fine, I will be fine, delivery will be fine and it will all probably happen soon!
I’m am about ten hours into labor when we call my mom to explain that my husband probably won’t be home tonight, the baby will most likely come during the evening and night and the only good thing about that is that she will be considered 34 weeks (not 33).
I am dreading the next step in this process as much as I am looking forward to it. Since I haven’t advanced at all with one pill and since the baby’s heart rate has been dipping, my doctor doesn’t feel safe ordering another pill for me.
My contractions are kind of stuck and nothing is really happening. I am very uncomfortable and since I’m on the monitor the whole time, they don’t like me getting up at all and trips to the bathroom are very limited (I did mention that I am pregnant still right…? Very pregnant with a baby resting on my bladder…? Yeah…)
I can’t read or sleep, talk or watch TV, I’m too uncomfortable for that and all I can do is kind of be…
I channel my yoga breaths again and try to think about other things, my son, the ocean, my friends, vacations…
After 12 hours into labor it is Monday evening and time to check me again (yay, lucky me). It is the doctor this time. She seems worried about the baby and she is telling us that if we don’t progress here (with another pill to thin out my cervix), the baby might not “hang on” for very much longer (whatever that means; I’m too scared to ask).
This time, I really try to brace myself, holding onto the edges of the bed and trying not to put my legs together and kick my doctor in the face.
I am so raw and so sore and even though the bleeding has subsided this will sure make it start again. I’m crying and I know my husband must feel really bad for me.
My doctor is saying that she has to make a judgment call about the pill but again that it’s ultimately up to us (here we go again, I’m a doctor in psychology, psychology not medicine). She recommends the pill and what choice do we have? The pill is inserted and again I’m terrified.
Another 4 hours of waiting, here we go. I silently pray that this will work and that the baby will be able to hang on!