I thought this day would never come. The last few weeks of my pregnancy seemed extremely slow moving. The contractions would come and then stop suddenly. At one point I thought that maybe this baby just had no plans of coming out.
When I was pregnant with Princess, my water broke at 38 weeks. With this pregnancy, I was almost two centimeters dilated during the same week. I thought for sure I’d wake up one night with amniotic fluid gushing down my legs like the last time. But, that didn’t happen.
I was one day shy of 40 weeks when I went in for what I thought would be my last appointment. According to my OB, things were pretty much status quo.
“You’ll be in labor by the end of the week,” he said.
“That’s what you said last week,” I replied.
The doc insisted that I come in for another appointment a couple days later. He felt that things would progress rapidly, but I wasn’t buying it.
Even though I wasn’t entirely sold on the doc’s prediction of a fast progression, I still wanted to be prepared. Before dropping Princess off at summer camp, I packed an overnight bag for her, made her meals for the day, and loaded my hospital bag in the car just in case.
Once my hubby and I got to the doctors office, we were told that I’d be hooked up to the fetal monitor to check for contractions and also monitor the baby’s heartbeat. Upon reading the results, it seemed clear that this baby wasn’t going to make an appearance. There wasn’t much movement, according to the machine. That’s when the medical assistant gave me some cold water to drink to wake this baby up.
Within minutes of drinking, I felt flutters and kicks. I couldn’t belief it! It actually worked. “We’re on a roll now,” I thought. Then the doc came in to check the contractions, said nothing, and walked back out of the room.
Does this mean another day of work? I could already hear my co-workers saying, “You’re back again?” That’s the last thing I wanted to hear.
The medical assistant showed us to another room. After a weight check she instructed,
“Undress from the waist down. The doctor will be in with you shortly.”
The clock was ticking at this point. I was set to report to work within a couple of hours. Prior to the appointment, I told boss lady that this could be D-day. If it weren’t, I’d be prepared to go into to work. If it were, obviously, my maternity leave would kick in. I gave her a buzz and told her to be on standby.
The doc had one more exam and a sonogram to do before he made his decision on how we should proceed. Even though I knew everything would be fine, I held my breath in anticipation.
“The baby is doing fine,” he said while examining the baby’s movement on the ultrasound.
Now came the other test. The doc took a pair of gloves from the counter and slipped them on. He then poked around to see if I had dilated further. He had this weird look on his face that was hard to read. The more he prodded, the more discomfort I felt.
“Is everything ok?” I asked.
No response.
He continued to poke around. I shot my hubby the “wtf” look. I had no idea what was happening at this point or what this doctor was about to say.
He stepped back, removed his gloves, looked up at me and,
“You’re four centimeters dilated. You have to go to the hospital right now.”
The foodie in me responded, “Could we at least grab lunch first?”
“No,” he relied before leaving the room.
I guess he was right after all about things progressing quickly.
Here we go again.
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