Waiting for the Next One

I don't usually mind waiting, especially when I have a final result and final date set. It was really hard to wait when we were living in an apartment in Texas and we didn't know how long we'd be there, or where we were moving to next. That was agonizing! Living in limbo stinks.

It has been different (for me) with my due dates. I knew that my due date with Zoë was January 22, and that my doctor wouldn't let me go any longer than one week after that date. So I knew my daughter would arrive before the end of the month. With Megan, I had preterm labor, so I didn't even expect to reach my due date (which I didn't!). With Miranda, I was afraid I not only wouldn't reach my due date, but not even the scheduled c-section date, but I knew she'd arrive "on or before" November 15th (and she did make her c-section date).

This pregnancy has been harder because I would love to have her arrive as early as safely possible. Why? So her birthday is farther away from Megan's; so Nana can meet her 9th grandchild before she heads back to Utah and work; so my back can stop hurting; so I can start recovering from surgery more quickly; a myriad of other reasons.

At 2am the other morning, I was awakened out of a semi-sound sleep (does any 9-month-pregnant mother of 1+ sleep soundly?): a contraction. Strong enough to wake me up. I wondered why this one wakened me, and as I lay there for the next hour, I realized it was because it probably wasn't the first one I'd had. I started watching the clock, waiting, waiting for the next one. Ten minutes later, another contraction. Another ten minutes, another contraction.

I then thought about how often the contractions will peter out after an hour or so, and therefore, I tried to just go back to sleep. I woke up again at 4am, and they were still 10 minutes apart. I started thinking, "Ok, 10 minutes apart, and not very strong, doesn't mean much. I wish they'd just go away, or that they would get serious!"

At 6:45, when Travis woke up, I told him about waiting for the next one, and he started getting nervous/excited. Are we having a baby today? The doctor said he wouldn't stop labor at this point (I was 37 weeks and 3 days, so technically "full term"*). So, I called the on-call doc, and she said to go ahead and keep my regular appointment that morning and see what they found on exam.

DUH. I already knew they wouldn't find anything other than contractions (and a heart rate, I could feel the baby moving). I was in labor for two days with Zoë, contractions down to 3 minutes apart and only got to 1.5 cm. With Megan I was in labor for 18 hours, had my water break and I only got to 1 cm! I know that my contractions result in NO PROGRESS, hence the need for c-sections

Anyway, at the doctor appointment she decided to send me to the hospital. WHY? The contractions were 5-10 minutes apart (activity seemed to increase the contractions- bending, moving, walking). I just wanted to make sure that they weren't stressing the baby out.

I went home, grabbed my hospital bag (yes, I had it packed), and drove myself to the Child Birth Unit. And waited for the next one....

Once they got me hooked up, within the next 30 minutes I had about two-and-a-half contractions. The baby was moving fine. They sent me home. The nurse even said, "I'm not really sure why the doctor sent you over here". Great. Just what I wanted to hear. And, of course, in the back of my mind I'm wondering how much this little trip is going to cost... emotionally it's a disaster. I didn't want to go to the hospital, I didn't want to get my Mom's hopes up about me having the baby before she left. I didn't want to ruin Travis' experiments for the rest of the week because he felt like he couldn't start anything without knowing if he needed to drop things and come to the hospital.

The contractions continued for the rest of the day. Usually 10-15 minutes apart, but stopped about 10pm that night. I think I had contractions every 10 minutes (or so) for about 24 hours. Great, eh? And, yes, I could ignore a lot of them (they didn't get painful) but I was still waiting for the next one.

Now? Well, every day I wonder if I'll start up again, and if I do, what will I do? Do I go back to the hospital to have them tell me they don't know why I'm there? Or do I wait it out and wonder if my baby goes into stress from all the squeezing? Do I wait until my water breaks? Will I even have more regular contractions? Or will I plod along for the next 9 days and make it to my due date without any more excitement?

Yep, watching the hand on the clock tick around and around, just waiting for the next one, trying to distract my mind and my body from what might be going on, or might be coming. It wouldn't be so difficult to wait if I wasn't so READY for pregnancy to be DONE DONE DONE and for me to be able to hold this little girl in my arms instead of carrying her around in my belly.

Still, I can and will** wait, because I know the definite end, and the most probable place and time.

I can hardly wait to meet this little girl! But I will continue to wait for the next one...



*But, what doctors don't really like to tell you is that they hate delivering before 39 weeks and try to avoid it unless it is inevitable to deliver. There's so much risk with a baby even mildly early like an almost 38-weeker

**My medical background reinforces the fact that, although I'd love to have her arrive early, I'd much prefer my daughter to come as close to 39 weeks as well. Yes, I know fully that those last few days of incubation can lead to a huge difference in development and preparedness for living outside the womb. So, as much as I want her out, I'm perfectly glad that she's not coming too early, and will have a chance to grow and develop a little more. Besides, I will not drink castor oil again, and although intimacy with my husband is awesome, it doesn't help me much (see above reference to lack of dilation). Spicy food? that's considerable only because I like spicy things. But, I'm not going to pull all the stops to "get things rolling".