8:00pm Sunday Night

Baby Wall was 2 weeks late. I know that this is something most women dread. Not I.

Since Dave and I just moved into a new house, there is not a lack of things to be done. Every day past my due date I would say, "Okay, I just want to get this done, and then I can have this baby". Well, it worked apparently. In fact, it worked so well that I ended up having to be induced.

All throughout pregnancy you are terrified of when you go into labor (or I was anyway). You think your water could break anywhere (really only about 10% of women have the water break at the beginning of labor), or contractions could just start out of nowhere. You hear horror stories of babies born in 3 hours, and you think, "Will I make it to the hospital in time"? While you are terrified by all things labor, you also start to mentally prepare yourself for the unexpected to occur at any moment.

When someone says to you, "Come to the hospital at 8:00pm on Sunday night and we will induce you," it's a jolt to the system. I was so prepared to be unprepared for labor that this scheduling of induction was not so welcomed. I held off doing many of the things suggested to induce labor because I thought that my baby would be born when it felt like it was ready. Come Sunday May 1st, I tried anything I could think of. Well, almost anything. I even went and got acupuncture in hopes that I wouldn't have to be induced. None of it worked.

Dave and I made it to the hospital around 8:30pm. (Hey, if this baby can be late then so can I.) We met my parents in the lobby. My dad was nervously chatting, and my mom said, "Have you been crying"? Yes, mom. All day.

They led us upstairs and I met with the first of many Doctors. I was checked internally (this is, in my opinion, one of the worst parts of childbirth) and I was hardly dilated. Sparing most of the unpleasant details, I was given Cytotec (which sounds like a supplement you buy at GNC). If you feel so inclined you can google what this does. I started having infrequent contractions, some fairly painful. After being monitored for a while I was given the option of going home or staying at the hospital. Who wants to be at a hospital if they don't need to be? Shortly thereafter Dave and I made the trek home. Home, might I add, is about 45 minutes away.

I had contractions the whole way home. I got into bed and tried to catch some Z's, and spend a little quality time with our cat, Wee Wee, before she became a big sister. The contractions kept coming, and getting more painful so Dave started timing them - they ranged from 2 to 5 minutes apart. He called the hospital and they told us to come back in. I was writhing in discomfort for the entire trip back to the hospital, and Dave made sure to hit every pothole on the way just to make me suffer. (Not really, but it seemed that way!) Apparently this induction had worked (not all of them do).

My mom and Dave came upstairs with me into the labor and delivery room, and my Dad stayed downstairs in the lobby. Once upstairs I was checked again, and still was not dilated. And so the longest night in the world began . . .