Each day of December started with lots of hope that today would be the day. December the 21st did not. It should have though, as today was our birthmother’s doctor appointment. She had began having more painful, more consistent contractions, but I had raised my hopes too many times in the past, only to be disappointed. I went to work as normal, and Steph went in for her last day of class before break.
The doctor’s appointment was scheduled for 2:00pm, and the birth mom was convinced they would recommend inducement, even though her due date was still four days away. I’ve resigned myself to waiting until Christmas. Sigh. Who thought that a baby could have one of those “Do not open until Christmas” signs.
Around 1:00pm, Steph gets a text. Birthmother doesn’t need a ride anymore, her sister is taking her to the hospital.
She’ll let us know if they admit her. I’m still not convinced. She really wants it to be today, but you can’t force it. I can’t blame her, she really wants to be home for Christmas.
3:00pm…word is that they said told her to walk for a couple of hours. I’ll take off a smidge early…just in case. Around five its official, she’s been admitted.
You plan for these moments, but you’re never quite ready enough. Sure, the bags were packed and ready to go, but your heart and mind process in their own time. This event we’ve been waiting for, worked so hard for, cried for, wanted so badly was here, and our hearts and minds were flipping between joy and wanting to crawl under a rock.
We gather up what we need and head to the hospital. It’s a quick 15 minute drive. Just jump on 675, exit on 35, exit off 35 and you’re there, unless….
Brake lights. Dozens of them. It’s backed up from 35 due to an accident. Ahh! Time for a split second decision. Wait or go the back way. I don’t know the back way, but Steph does. We gamble and go around. The next exit is a little backed up, like minds I suppose. We make a few turns and see flashing lights in front of us, near our next turn. No!! What kind of luck is this? Well, good luck. The lights were just past the intersection. The rest of the trip is eventless, but the driver (me) was manic. Relax!
Once we arrive, we find her room and get the latest. She is being induced. Alright! Our baby will have a palindromic birthday (12/21)! Well, maybe. We get booted out of the room for an examination. Still under 4 cm dilated, we’ll be a waiting a bit….
The TV is on, we’re watching NCIS on USA. A little distraction while we wait for progress.
Waiting some more…
Gee, does every USA show have the same four commercials?
Did you know White Collar is coming back in January?
The Pitocin is upped, and upped some more. Nothing.
Now the White Collar guys are sneaking out of the corner of the screen during the show. Is there a clause they have to be seen every ten minutes?
While we are here, they’ve hooked up the baby to the fetal doppler, carefully monitoring the heart beat. Let me tell you what I heard. Our baby is either going to be the worst DJ or the best drum corp major. When she moved, the monitor would make a horrible scratching sound. If, however the monitor was lined up perfectly, that consistent beat was amazing.
Around 9 or 10 I decide that supper might be a good idea. I get down to the lobby and the front desk tells me I can’t leave. The alarm goes off. I assume it’s the baby alarm. Can this night get anymore crazy?
The alarm stops, and I’m free to go. I run to Panara…closed. So much for a semi-healthy meal. Burger King it is. I bring the food up to the waiting room, it would be cruel to bring food into the room when birthmother can’t eat. Plus, it’s epidural time, so we’ve been booted out of the room again. The waiting room is frigid, which I assume is to sustain the mummies in the lobby. Mummies? A few of the overnight visitors who don’t have room access have wrapped themselves in blankets across a couple of chairs. I get the blankets, but over their face as well?
Well, tonight’s not going to be the night. From the time we arrived (sixish) to midnight, they bumped up the pitocin, but to little progress. Looks like we’re in for the long haul.