Reality Check
Okay, so here's the deal: I have no idea what I'm doing. I have accepted that.
After my last post I spent a couple days with the phone off just percolating in my rage and pain and disappointment. I'm better, I think, but it's kind of hard to tell.
Over the weekend we had to make a trip to L&D because, well, that's what you do when you're 38 weeks and having contractions every 3 minutes for two hours in the middle of the night (and your husband is crazy paranoid and has way more faith in your ability to handle pain than you do.) It ended up being a beneficial thing, even though we didn't come home with a baby. The lovely L&D nurse, Sue, was able to give me a more accurate assessment of my bits and pieces. It seems that Ms. Trish was incorrect and I'm not, in fact, 4 cm and 75% effaced, but 3 cm and 60% effaced. Sue also told me that I'm still posterior and Nora's at -2 station, still, so, yeah, no baby. Of course, by the time she had run my paperwork, got me hooked to machines and checked my cervix, it was all pointless because my contractions had virtually disappeared.
In fact, there's nothing more morally punishing that hearing, "Oh, that's just irritation."
I was totally like, "But I SWEAR they hurt 30 minutes ago."
Sue, lovely Sue, nodded her head and said, "Oh, I believe you."
Nice lady.
Anyway, the trip and the confusion and all of the crap that my body's been through in the last couple of weeks got me to thinking about my delivery with Mazzy. See, I've been basing the pain on what I experienced with her and the contractions Saturday night were stronger than what sent me to the hospital in 2008, so I thought, for sure, that it was all good. I've come to a conclusion that doesn't help this situation at all; I wasn't in labor that night.
Yes, I ended the night with a baby, but I wasn't supposed to have Mazzy. I'm convinced of it and here's why:
When I went in Sunday night on the 20th of January of 2008 I was five days past my due date, scheduled for an induction on Friday and 3ish centimeters. The triage nurse was a nice lady we'd seen before and she knew that we lived an hour away and really didn't want the pitocin induction. Also, it was, like, 10 at night and she wasn't going anywhere, so she very sweetly stretched my 3 cm to a 4 and admitted me. The on call doctor popped my water and a few hours later I was holding Mazzy early Monday morning on the 21st.
I remember handling the contractions really well, noting that they didn't hurt until the water broke. After my water broke I went from contractions every 5 minutes to every 2 minutes in, like, 15 minutes and Adam was starting to shut down. I was fully focused on breathing because, really, I couldn't do anything else. I wasn't crying, just doing a lot of breathing. Every two minutes is fairly intense and I didn't have recovery time between them to reassure Adam. My brain was so divided between breathing because that was what I was supposed to do and worrying about Adam's freakout because I wasn't talking to him anymore. (It's funny how you can't talk when you're breathing.) My next check had me at 5 cm and I was being told that it was going to be another 8ish hours before I'd see a baby, so I took one look at Adam's pale face and asked for an epidural. They got the epidural and I went from 5-10 cm in an hour.
My point in all of this is that I have no idea what I'm actually supposed to be looking for as labor. Well, and no matter how many people are telling me this kid is coming early, I've given up hope. I have until the 23rd before I'm 40 weeks. I'm just going to ignored every contraction, every bloody show, every stupid 'sign' of labor until after the 23rd.
Or until I deliver in my bathtub because I can't make it down the stairs. Whatever comes first.
After my last post I spent a couple days with the phone off just percolating in my rage and pain and disappointment. I'm better, I think, but it's kind of hard to tell.
Over the weekend we had to make a trip to L&D because, well, that's what you do when you're 38 weeks and having contractions every 3 minutes for two hours in the middle of the night (and your husband is crazy paranoid and has way more faith in your ability to handle pain than you do.) It ended up being a beneficial thing, even though we didn't come home with a baby. The lovely L&D nurse, Sue, was able to give me a more accurate assessment of my bits and pieces. It seems that Ms. Trish was incorrect and I'm not, in fact, 4 cm and 75% effaced, but 3 cm and 60% effaced. Sue also told me that I'm still posterior and Nora's at -2 station, still, so, yeah, no baby. Of course, by the time she had run my paperwork, got me hooked to machines and checked my cervix, it was all pointless because my contractions had virtually disappeared.
In fact, there's nothing more morally punishing that hearing, "Oh, that's just irritation."
I was totally like, "But I SWEAR they hurt 30 minutes ago."
Sue, lovely Sue, nodded her head and said, "Oh, I believe you."
Nice lady.
Anyway, the trip and the confusion and all of the crap that my body's been through in the last couple of weeks got me to thinking about my delivery with Mazzy. See, I've been basing the pain on what I experienced with her and the contractions Saturday night were stronger than what sent me to the hospital in 2008, so I thought, for sure, that it was all good. I've come to a conclusion that doesn't help this situation at all; I wasn't in labor that night.
Yes, I ended the night with a baby, but I wasn't supposed to have Mazzy. I'm convinced of it and here's why:
When I went in Sunday night on the 20th of January of 2008 I was five days past my due date, scheduled for an induction on Friday and 3ish centimeters. The triage nurse was a nice lady we'd seen before and she knew that we lived an hour away and really didn't want the pitocin induction. Also, it was, like, 10 at night and she wasn't going anywhere, so she very sweetly stretched my 3 cm to a 4 and admitted me. The on call doctor popped my water and a few hours later I was holding Mazzy early Monday morning on the 21st.
I remember handling the contractions really well, noting that they didn't hurt until the water broke. After my water broke I went from contractions every 5 minutes to every 2 minutes in, like, 15 minutes and Adam was starting to shut down. I was fully focused on breathing because, really, I couldn't do anything else. I wasn't crying, just doing a lot of breathing. Every two minutes is fairly intense and I didn't have recovery time between them to reassure Adam. My brain was so divided between breathing because that was what I was supposed to do and worrying about Adam's freakout because I wasn't talking to him anymore. (It's funny how you can't talk when you're breathing.) My next check had me at 5 cm and I was being told that it was going to be another 8ish hours before I'd see a baby, so I took one look at Adam's pale face and asked for an epidural. They got the epidural and I went from 5-10 cm in an hour.
My point in all of this is that I have no idea what I'm actually supposed to be looking for as labor. Well, and no matter how many people are telling me this kid is coming early, I've given up hope. I have until the 23rd before I'm 40 weeks. I'm just going to ignored every contraction, every bloody show, every stupid 'sign' of labor until after the 23rd.
Or until I deliver in my bathtub because I can't make it down the stairs. Whatever comes first.
Comments
I wonder if you could schedule in something super wonderfully relaxing and wonderful and super? Maybe a prenatal massage?? I've never had a massage but.. I've heard it's wonderful? Hey, maybe it'd throw ya into labor! heh.
Write Adam some to-do lists and let some of the housework go? is that possible? watch awesome tv? go out to dinner just the 2 of you? take lots of baths? go swimming? eat popsicles all day?
hugs to you.
may the labor signs be super clear and sure for you!
I was so relieved my water broke so I was like..OK..this is gonna go somewhere at some point!! heh.