Grace's Birth Story

I am pleased to say that Grace's birth went nothing like her brother's birth. For those of you who are unfamiliar with that story, you can get started on that story here.
I was scheduled for induction with Grace on August 31st at 5:00 A.M. My midwife had stripped my membranes the day before in the hope that it would encourage further dilation. She said that if I dilated to a 3 on my own, then all she would do at the hospital would be to break my water and have me walk around to encourage active labor. If I had not dilated to 3, however, she would administer a dose of Cytotec and see if that moved things along. I was not crazy about the idea of Cytotec, as it can cause serious (although rare) complications. But if a dose of Cytotec did the trick, then it would still permit me to have the natural childbirth experience that I wanted.
The afternoon of the 30th, my midwife called me to tell me that due to an emergency induction of another of her patients, I would be bumped to 11:00 P.M. on the 31st. With the extra time on my hands, my MIL graciously offered to take me out to lunch and a pedicure that day. My parents watched BB, and the day went by without dragging too much.
DH and I left to go to the hospital that night at 10:00. By midnight, I was admitted and set up in a room. After taking some blood and giving me a Hep lock, the nurse checked my dilation. Unfortunately, I had not progressed any since my midwife checked me, so a dose of Cytotec was given. I was instructed to stay still so that they could monitor me for an hour, after which I could move around.
When I was checked again a few hours later, I had dilated to two. Another dose of Cytotec was given, and when I was checked again at 8:00 A.M., I was dilated the requisite three. My midwife broke my water, and after a brief period of monitoring, I was told to get up and walk around.
By this point, I had started to have some intermittent contractions. Nothing too painful, just the equivalent of some bad cramps. After my water was broken and I started walking around, however, the contractions picked up. DH and I walked the loop of the L&D floor at the hospital, pausing every few minutes for me to stop with a contraction. I had been a little apprehensive about natural childbirth, but the contractions, while painful, were manageable. I tried to remember what I had read about breathing steadily and relaxing my muscles during contractions.
When I was checked at 10:30, I had dilated to four. Back DH and I went to walk around some more. I noticed that the contractions were coming closer together and were becoming more intense. At 11:15, I was five and my doubts about natural childbirth were beginning to reappear.
Sometime soon after I was checked and found to be five, my friend C arrived. C is a doula, although she is not currently practicing. She had graciously agreed to by there for me, however. I knew I was supposed to keep walking around, but I no longer wanted to leave my hospital room. I instead opted to try swaying from side to side, wrapping my arms around DH's neck when a contraction came. That did not seem to help, so I tried sitting in a rocking chair. The rocking motion was great between contractions, but the hard surface of the chair seat was too uncomfortable during the contractions for me to stay there long.
I started to feel a little panicked about my abilities to handle things as I realized that the contractions were every 3-4 minutes. My steady breathing and relaxation practicing went out of my mind as I began to dread the arrival of another contraction. C tried to help me remember to relax my face, allow my mouth to fall open, and relax my shoulders during contractions. I tried to follow her instructions, but found it hard to do as my brain had decided to freak out and was slamming the panic button.
Not too long after C's arrival, I had to get back into bed for a period of monitoring. Being in bed seemed to make the contractions worse. I started to feel trapped and even more panicky, as I could now watch the monitors register my contractions. With my contractions continuing to come every 3 minutes or so, I felt as though I did not have a chance to collect myself before another contraction began. I began to wonder what if I got to a point and then stopped dilating but kept contracting? How long would I have to push? Would I have the energy to push when the time came?
With these questions in my head, all ideas of a natural childbirth vanished. I requested an epidural. All I could think about was what if the contractions lasted another 5 or 6 hours. I felt certain that if I had that much more ahead of me, there would be no way I could push effectively and then I would have to have a c-section. I wanted to be able to push when the time came. My nurse left the room to call the midwife, and came back in the room with an IV bag that she hooked up to my Hep lock. She explained that before I could have an epidural, I had to have a bolus of fluid first. She also told me that my midwife was on her way over to check me before my epidural was administered. Part of me felt wimpy for chickening out and asking for an epidural, but part of me was just impatient for the pain to go away.
After what was probably only a few minutes, but seemed like an hour to me (and everyone who was within earshot of me yelling; I do not do silent labor), my midwife arrived. She checked me and told me that I was already dilated to seven, and that Grace would be here shortly. There really was not time, she explained, for me to get an epidural and for it to have any effect before it was time to push. As I heard her speak, I wondered if she was telling me the truth, or if she just said that to all of her patients. I did not ask her, however, as another contraction came right along.
A few contractions later, I started feeling the urge to push, which surprised me as I had just been at seven. When my midwife asked me if I felt the need to push, I managed to nod my head. She told me that if I felt like pushing, to push. As the next contraction came, I was instructed to take a deep breath, hold it and bear down. I tried to do that, but found it hard to hold my breath. Throughout the pushing phase of my labor, I needed repeated reminders to keep holding my breath during pushing.
Although I had pushed with BB's delivery, I still felt as though I did not know exactly what to do when it came to pushing. I found it tremendously helpful when my midwife put her hand where I needed to push and told me to push against her. I initially tried pushing while sitting nearly upright. My midwife instructed me to grab my legs behind my knees and pull back, but in my addled state her instructions sounded humanly impossible. DH tells me that during this phase I gave my doula and my midwife several "die, woman, die" looks.
After a while of pushing like that, my midwife suggested flipping over and holding onto the top end of the bed while kneeling. As soon as I got into that position, however, the urge to push left. I stayed like that for several minutes just to regroup a little, and then I went back to my sitting nearly upright position. This time, however, my midwife had me place my legs on the bed's leg supports. At the next push, my midwife told me that Grace's head was visible and to give a big push. I did, but nothing happened. My midwife asked one of the nurses standing by if one of the doctors in the practice was still around. When told that he was not, she inquired about another one of the doctors in the practice, stating that the doctor had stronger hands than she did. Her comment made me afraid that Grace's birth would mimic BB's, and I silently prayed, "God, help!"
The next contraction came and I pushed down as hard as I possibly could, encountering the infamous "ring of fire." I have never felt anything so aptly named in my life. I knew it was a good sign, though, and I kept pushing. Sweet relief followed, and Grace's head emerged. The umbilical cord was around her neck, and my midwife quickly unhooked it before telling me to give one more push. With that push, Grace fully emerged after about 45 minutes of pushing. The midwife suctioned her quickly and placed her on my chest. Grace was a little purple and was crying from being suctioned, but she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I was so relieved to have her birth behind me as I said several times, "It's over, it's all over." I felt overwhelming feelings of relief and awe. I held Grace and rubbed her as my midwife took care of the rest. I only needed 2 stitches, which was a wonderful change from BB's birth.

As I held Grace, the people in the room speculated on how big they thought Grace was. It was generally agreed that she was over 9 pounds. DH thought so too, while I held that she weighed around 8 pounds, 9 ounces. All too soon, it was time for the nurse to place her on the warmer and find out her weight for sure. I hated to let someone else hold her, even if I was dying to know how much she weighed. She came in at 8 pounds, 13.3 ounces, proving all estimates wrong. After a brief more snuggle time, she was whisked off to the nursery to get cleaned up.

My recovery from Grace's birth has been 180 degrees different than with BB. I instantly felt human after her birth, and while I was stiff and sore for several days, I could move around without much difficulty. Grace's birth was ideal - except for the pain, that is! I will never believe anyone who says that their natural childbirth did not hurt. But as long as labor does not drag on for hours on end, I think that most people could deal with the discomfort.

It's worth it :)

My Pregnancy with Grace

In the process of writing Grace's birth story, I found myself adding so many pre-birth details that I decided to write a post about my pregnancy with her. All in all, my pregnancy with Grace went smoothly. Prior to becoming pregnant with Grace, I moved from the doctor practice that delivered BB (more like I ran screaming) to a practice that included a midwife. After gathering my medical history, my midwife felt that I had most likely had undiagnosed gestational diabetes with BB, which helped to account for his large size. She was confident that my previous labor and delivery experience could be avoided by closer monitoring during subsequent pregnancies. When I became pregnant with Grace, she made plans to test my glucose tolerance level earlier in the pregnancy and cautioned me about not gaining weight excessively.
The first five months of my pregnancy passed uneventfully. Other than morning sickness, I felt fine and everything was going well. When it came time to test my glucose tolerance, I failed the test with flying colors, earning myself a diagnosis of gestational diabetes (GD). Even though I knew what my midwife had said about my pregnancy with BB, I was still surprised that I failed the test. I was more than a little bummed that I now had to check my blood sugar 4 times a day and carefully watch what I ate. It was at this point that I decided that 36 weeks gestation would be "cooked" enough for me, and I started praying that I would go into labor as soon as it was safe for Grace. For me, there were few things worse than having pregnancy cravings and not being able to give in to them. On the plus side, thanks to the strict GD diet and my ever-present morning sickness, I only gained 5 pounds during the pregnancy (before you start hating me, keep in mind that I was fat to start with).
At 32 weeks, I had a 3D/4D sonogram which revealed that Grace was breech. My midwife told me that they would give her until 36 weeks to turn, and then they would want to do an external cephalic version to flip her around. I did not like this option at all, especially after I Googled it and read the risks associated with the procedure. At my next chiropractor appointment, I happened to mention that Grace was breech. My chiropractor suggested a chiropractic technique called Webster's technique that has a good success rate at encouraging babies to turn on their own. I agreed to let him try the procedure, and started going to him twice a week. At my 36 week appointment, the sonogram showed Grace head-down, just as she needed to be.
As time went on, I became increasingly concerned about how large Grace was going to be. While my blood sugar levels and weight gain were ideal, I was still very worried that history was going to repeat itself in the delivery room. The technician guesstimated Grace's weight to be 6lbs., 12oz. at 36 weeks, and by 40 weeks, she guesstimated 8lbs. Predicting the size of a baby via sonogram is in no way an exact science, as BB was estimated to be 8lbs. right before birth, only to weigh in at 10lbs., 5.2oz. at his birth. I asked my midwife if there was anything that she could do to go ahead and speed things up. As my cervix was soft and I was dilated to a one, she went ahead and stripped my membranes and scheduled me for an induction the following morning...

BB's Birth Story: Part 7

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6

BB was born 11:30 PM, July 10th.
When he emerged blue and limp, the cord was immediately cut and he was whisked away to the warming table. I was confused why they didn't let DH cut the cord and I wondered why they were taking my baby away. Everything felt like I was watching it happen, like I wasn't really there. BB had an initial Apgar score of 1, and the medical staff moved him to the NICU. I sat there staring at the door the medical personnel had just whisked my baby out of and I had the thought that I was now going to die. Not completely because of BB's condition, but because after all that transpired, I felt like I was going to die.
The doctor reached inside me and pulled out my placenta, which freaked me out so much that I snapped back to reality. I had no idea that anyone ever did such a thing. To this day, I don't know why he did that. I would have preferred to deliver it naturally. The doctor started sewing me up. I had a level 3 tear, so I required a number of stitches.
The hospital staff that had been working on BB returned with him, pink and crying. With his Apgar up to 8, BB was placed on the scale to weigh. The doctor told us that BB was a "Sumo Baby" and he asked how big we thought he was. I knew that the doctor had told me I would have trouble with anything over 8 pounds, so I guessed his weight to be 8 pounds, 8 ounces. DH guessed 9 pounds. When they turned the scale on, BB weighed 10 lbs, 5.2 ounces, and measured 22 1/2" long. Once I knew how big he was, I felt better about the trouble I had pushing him out.
After BB was weighed and measured, he was handed to DH. BB didn't have a big cry, but rather a small mewing cry that was constant. Given his rough entrance, you can't really blame him. DH held him next to me, and when I spoke to him, he stopped crying and looked at me. I tried to nurse for a few minutes, but BB wasn't interested. So I handed him back to DH and he and the other family members took turns holding him and taking pictures of him.

The End

BB's Birth Story: Part 6

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

So, I pushed. I pushed and I pushed and I pushed. But nothing happened. BB wasn't even crowning. At one point during the pushing, a scrub nurse came in my room and watched me push. "She's never going to make any progress pushing like that," she said to my nurse.
Oh - and did I tell you the VERY BEST part? That evening, while I was pushing, my nurse was none other than our dear old friend, Nurse Ratched. When she came in my room to introduce herself at the beginning of her shift, my heart sank. I wondered if I could request a different nurse. But I figured that since I was in labor, she HAD to be involved with me tonight. And she was, just not in a very helpful manner.
When I was told that I could go ahead and push, she told me to count out loud to 5, take a deep breath, and bear down. So I did. Over and over. And that might be how it's done, I don't know. But I do know that it's hard figuring out how exactly to bear down when you've never had to bear down before. Looking back, I wonder if things would have progressed quicker if I had had a better idea of what to do.
After the scrub nurse's assessment, Ratched handed me a rolled up towel and held onto the middle of it, giving me the ends to hold onto. I guess the point was to change my position a bit, but it was never explained. She had me push 2 times like that and then she threw the towel into the hamper. I guess the towel wasn't working too well for her.
By 9:3o, I had been pushing for 2 hours. My O2 stats were low, so I was given an oxygen mask to wear, which I found cumbersome. The doctor wasn't in my room the whole time, but he did come to check on me every so often. [I should explain at this point that there are 5 doctors in the practice that I used. During my failed induction and subsequent labor, all 5 of the doctors were involved at one point or another]
With a 5 doctor practice, there are a lot of patients. As it turned out, several patients from the practice were in labor at the same time as me. One of the other patients from the practice was better at pushing than I was, so with a last check at me, he instructed me to stop pushing while he went to be at the delivery of the other patient.
Now - if you have ever been in labor, you know that once the urge to push kicks in, it pretty much takes over your whole mind. That's ALL you want to do. True, I had been pushing for 2 hours and I hadn't been doing a very good job at it, but I still wanted to push. When the next urge to push came, and the nurse had me breathe through the urge without doing anything, I got mad. I've never been so mad in my life. If I could have beaten my doctor and nurse, I would have. The delivery with the other patient went quickly, and it looked as though I would be able to push again soon. However, just as the doctor was wrapping up his part of the job, another patient from the practice went into fetal distress, requiring an emergency C-section. A message was delivered to Ratched that I still wasn't to push, and that another doctor from the practice had been called in. It was about this time that my epidural ran out. The anesthesiologist would have to give me another dose - except for the fact that he was in with the C-section. So I waited. And got madder. And I started to yell. Not really from the pain, but because I was so mad, frustrated, hungry, and tired.
At 10:30, the other doctor from the practice arrived. She wasn't really there to help with the delivery unless it was absolutely needed. She was there more or less to watch, so she took a position over by the wall away from the bed. She told me that I could start pushing again, so I did. BB's head finally started to crown, and I was encouraged that the end was in site. Once I started being able to push again, I stopped yelling (at least, I think I did - no one really remembers). I kept trying and trying to get BB's head to clear, but he wasn't budging. I don't know if other staff members had gotten curious, or if Ratched had sent a message, but other medical personnel were starting to gather in the room. Around this time, the doctor on call came into my room, and the other doctor left.
Once the doctor that was on call arrived in the room, BB's head finally crowned. But then he stopped. And I noticed that things were starting to get dark. And everyone sprang into action. The scrub nurse who had critiqued my pushing progress climbed on top of me and pushed down on my abdomen at the same time that the doctor reached in and broke BB's right clavicle. The combined actions got BB out, and he was blue and limp...
Part 7

BB's Birth Story: Part 5

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Despite my intentions to have a drug-free birth, the past week had wiped me out. I was so tired, and when the nurse asked me if I wanted a shot of Demerol, I said yes. The injection helped me sleep for 3 blessed hours. When I woke up, DH, my parents, my grandmother, DH's parents and his younger siblings were all there in the room. There's something surreal about lying in a bed with 8 people staring at you. I thought it seemed a bit like a death scene in a movie.

With the Demerol worn off, I was back to feeling contractions. The nurse checked my progress and declared me at a 3-4. I had only dilated 3 during the past 5 or so hours. Once again, they had me on my back, although this time my bed was elevated at the head a bit. I remember wishing that I could get up and walk around, because I felt that it would help speed things up. But given that I was now 10 days past my due date, the doctor wanted continuous fetal monitoring.

After she checked me, the nurse spoke to the doctor. The doctor wanted to give me Pitocin again, since I was clearly in labor. I was agreeable to the Pitocin, because at that point, I just wanted BB to be born. The nurse cautioned me that with the Pitocin, my contractions would be a lot stronger. She advised me to consider getting an epidural. I wasn't too keen on the idea, but the thought of a quick and pain-free delivery was looking mighty good by then. I talked it over with DH and my mom, and then agreed to an epidural.

The thought of a giant needle in my spine freaked me out, but I reassured myself by thinking about just how many people get epidurals every day. When I saw that the head nurse anesthesiologist was going to be administering my epidural, I was somewhat relieved. The actual delivery of the epidural wasn't too bad, although it was hard to stay still when I was having a contraction.

After I got the epidural and the Pitocin was started, labor stopped. So the Pitocin was increased, which picked things back up. The doctor stopped by mid-afternoon and told me that with my current rate of progression, I would probably start pushing around 8:00 that night. At 7:30, I was checked again, and I was ready to push!

Part 6

BB's Birth Story: Part 4

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
By the time all of the discharge paperwork was filled out, nearly every restaurant was closed. We went through the drive-through at Wendy's, and I ate my hamburger in the car. I tried to eat some fries once we got home, but I was too tired. I fell asleep around midnight.
Sunday, July 9, had me jolting awake around 6:00 AM with the worst back pain I'd ever had. I tried walking around the house and stretching, but nothing helped. I finally climbed into the shower and put the water on as hot as I could stand. That felt better for a while, but I knew I couldn't stay in there. I tried every trick in my pregnancy book to either get the pains to progress or go away, but they didn't budge. I walked, laid down, used a heating pad, changed positions, but the pains never changed. According to my book, I was experiencing false labor. But at 9 days overdue, I wanted it to be real. I kept track of the contractions throughout the day. I called the doctor's office and the hospital, and they both said that the contractions needed to be 5 minutes apart for 1 hour before I should go to the hospital. They stressed that I shouldn't eat or drink in case I suddenly went into a fast labor. I obeyed them for the most part, but I did eat a plate of spaghetti because it was the only thing that had sounded good to me during my hospital stay. Sunday came and went with my contractions never reaching the magic ratio. Instead, they came and went sporadically everywhere from 7-20 minutes.
Around 4:00 AM Monday, July 10th, I was going on less that one night's sleep over the past 5 nights. Aside from a burger and spaghetti, my last meal was lunch on Wednesday. I was tired, hungry, and grumpy. I woke DH up and told him that we were going to the hospital. By then, I didn't care what the books and the people on the phone had said; I wanted to be told face-to-face if I was indeed in false labor. DH was certain that we would be sent back home. He wisely decided to listen to the sleep-deprived pregnant woman though, and off we went to the hospital.
When we arrived at the hospital, the woman at the desk didn't seem the least bit concerned about my plight. She carried on several phone conversations before she told us that we could go back. A nurse's aide showed us to a small room and told us to wait for a nurse. We had waited so long in the waiting room that we were now at the change of shifts, which meant that we would wait quite some time to see a nurse.
Once a nurse did check me, she said that I was almost at a 1. I was so distraught that I wanted to cry. A part of me was sure that I would be checked and everyone would be surprised at how much I had progressed. Being nearly a 1 meant that I still had a long ways to go. Since I was supposed to be admitted for an induction in a few hours anyway, the doctor told the nurse to go ahead and admit me. DH and I called our parents, and I knew that this time, I would leave the hospital with a baby.
Part 5

BB's Birth Story: Part 3

Part 1
Part 2
I have always been a restless sleeper. I think that having to lie still for the monitor, coupled with the medication being administered every so often gave me my second sleepless night. During the day, my parents and my in-laws had stopped by to visit, no doubt hoping to catch some baby action. Come evening, it was DH again on the cot, sleeping for the next day of work. I remember feeling particularly annoyed that second night over his ability to sleep anywhere.
The next morning, July 8th, the third medication was administered after I signed a legal waiver stating I wouldn't hold the hospital responsible if the medication caused me to suddenly bleed out. I was a bit nervous about how exactly this medication was going to be administered, given the warnings. I was pleased to see that it was a pill - that I could swallow with water! Even though I had been given several cups of ice chips to suck on during my stay, I remained pretty thirsty. On the plus side though, I had stopped throwing up. I did dry heave, but that was much better than barfing.
After 2 doses of the third medication, I was still not effaced or dilated. The doctor told me that she could give me another dose of the medication, or do a C-section. She didn't pressure me for a C-section, but she did say that the current time, mid-afternoon, would be a good time for the procedure. She was concerned that if I had the third dose and there was still no change, it would be evening and then she would be busy with the other mamas giving birth. Why exactly do babies wait until night to be born?
I was adamantly against a C-section, and I opted for a third dose. By now I was s-t-a-r-v-i-n-g, and SO sleepy. I remember thinking that perhaps a C-section wouldn't be so bad, because I wasn't too sure how well I was going to be able to push. All I wanted to do was eat and sleep. By 9:00 that night, there was still no change. The hospital was packed with laboring mamas actually in labor, and there was a need for my room. After checking once again to make sure I didn't want a C-section, the doctor discharged me from the hospital. I was told to see the doctor at the practice first thing Monday morning and then come back to the hospital to be admitted for another attempt at induction.
Part 4

BB's Birth Story: Part 2

Part 1
At 8:00 PM July 6th, I reported as ordered to the hospital. After waiting over an hour for a room in a full capacity labor ward, I was admitted. An IV of fluids was started because I wasn't allowed to eat or drink while I was being induced. I wasn't too pleased with that, because I had already stopped eating and drinking a few hours before being admitted, per the doctor's orders. I had thrown up a few times since then, and I was really feeling thirsty. I hoped that the Pitocin, once started, would work quickly and I could eat and drink whatever I wanted without feeling sick. After the IV was started, the fetal monitor was strapped to me and I was told to lie in bed and not move, lest the monitor come off. This was exactly how I hadn't wanted to give birth.
The nurse who was first assigned to me was nice, albeit busy. The room across from me and next to me were both giving birth, and as I heard them scream, I told myself that I wasn't going to utter a sound when I finally gave birth.
At 11:00, the shifts changed and Nurse Ratched came in my room. She began the Pitocin via my IV and I was told to lie on my back and not move. This bit of advice confused me, because I had been told to not sleep on my back when pregnant. But then again, what did I know? She explained that she was going to be very busy that night, and that I shouldn't expect to see her much if at all. After a couple of hours, my back was hurting. I thought about buzzing the nurse's desk to ask them about me lying on my back, but Ratched had scared me off from wanting to impose on the staff.

I'm going to stop here and explain a bit: my parents had dropped me off at the hospital. At the time, DH was working 3:00-11:00 each day. He had just begun his job in May, so he didn't have any time accrued to take off. Since my induction was supposed to take a while, there was no perceived hurry for him to be there when I was admitted. I don't want any of you thinking that DH wasn't involved in BB's birth process!

DH finally arrived at the hospital and settled down for the night on a cot. My back was really starting to hurt, and I hoped that the pain meant that something was happening. Near the change of shift, the doctor appeared and checked me. I still hadn't started to efface or dilate. She upped my dose and told me that if there was still no change in a few hours, she would try me on a different type of medication. I took the opportunity to ask if I could please lay on my side, and she laughed, saying of course. Apparently, my night on my back was unnecessary. But at least I got to experience one of the sleepless hospital nights that everyone talks about. And my hospital room did have cable, which we didn't have at home.
The next few hours came and went, and the next medication was started in addition to the Pitocin. I remember that this medication hurt really badly, because it wasn't administered via an IV, and my doctor had fat hands with short fingers. Now that I'm thinking about that, I wonder why a doctor with hands like that chose that specialty. Wouldn't a different field be more appropriate? The new medication had to be administered every few hours, which gave me a way to pass the time by dreading the next application. At the end of day 2, I was still not effaced or dilated. I was told that if nothing changed during the night, there was a third medication to try. The third medication was viewed by the doctor as a last resort, especially since I had already had so much Pitocin. She was concerned that the third medication, which tended to cause fast births, would cause an even faster one due to the Pitocin I had received. She took me off of the Pitocin and told me that the second medication would still be applied every few hours during the night.
Part 3

BB's Birth Story: Part 1

My pregnancy with BB began as they usually do ;) Foods that I liked suddenly smelled terrible, and I felt "off." When I learned I was pregnant with BB, I immediately started praying that God would let me stay pregnant with him. In retrospect, perhaps I prayed too much about that.
Other than some serious 9-month-long morning sickness, my pregnancy with BB was largely uneventful. I tried to console myself by telling myself that morning sickness meant that my body was making the hormones it should. Looking back through my pregnancy journal, I see that I wrote how concerned I was that my baby would be born small because I kept throwing up. The only things I could always keep down were Subway Cold Cut Trios and Rice Krispie Treats. Everything else, even oatmeal and crackers weren't safe from my morning sickness.
My pregnancy seemed to fly by - and take forever. Even though my due date was June 30th, I had the nursery ready by mid-May. Despite everyone telling me that first babies are late babies, I just knew that I had to have the nursery ready by 36 weeks.
By the beginning of June, BB was head down and in position to launch. At my 37 week appointment, the doctor estimated that BB might weigh 8 pounds at birth, and that she would be surprised if I could have anything larger than an 8 pound baby without a C-section.
38, 39, 40...
My June 30th due date came and went. I was really surprised and disappointed by that, because I was sure that I was really due earlier than June 30th. But then, what did I know? The doctor told me that I hadn't even started to efface or dilate. With that bit of cheery news, I was told that if BB didn't make his appearance by July 6th, I was to report to the hospital for an induction. I wasn't at all pleased with that idea. I didn't want Pitocin, constant fetal monitoring, and a highly medical birth. I was all about the no drugs, delay cord cutting birth. My birth plan was very specific regarding how I wanted everything to be. But you know what they say about plans...
Part 2