Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Birth Story: Preparing

What are you supposed to do when your due date approaches, passes you by, and you still have no baby? Well, you continue to get ready for the arrival of your baby!

What do you do when your to-do list is completely finished, and still your baby is too comfortable to make an entrance?

You schedule an induction.

To be honest, I felt a pretty significant level of guilt for scheduling an induction. There are so many proponents for natural births out there. Of course, I would like to bring my babies into this world as naturally as possible. But I had this great cloud of stress hanging over my head about the baby's arrival. There's all this paper work and beurocracy that needs to be sorted through once the baby is born---and from my past experiences I know how long and frustrating everything takes. I also know that our plane tickets are already bought and that Adam is under pressure to return as soon as possible.

So, without really consulting Adam or even God...I agreed to going to the hospital for a scheduled induction on Wednesday, August 7. 

Talk about mixed feelings!

I wanted to have my baby! I was so ready to deliver that baby! And so uncomfortable too! I could hardly sleep, walk, eat, breathe....I was taking pain medicine every day to help get through the hours.

I was also having contractions that were going no where. For five days! By Wednesday, I was dilated to about 3 centimeters, so if I had waited another day or two--maybe things would have progressed naturally. But the not knowing was killing me.

I wanted to go the hospital...but then again...I didn't want to go. 

I tried to make a strawberry pie and a chocolate cream pie. That didn't start labor. 

I continued purchasing, washing, cataloging, and packing clothes for both kids' wardrobes.

I finished my to-do list...which included sending a very late gift to a sweet friend. 

Renewed debit and credit cards, went shopping, returned purchases, bought donuts....

Went out to eat at a little diner. Willow cracks me up; she can drink her water like such a 'big girl'. Only one hand!

We sat in a booth, because I requested it (it's easier to contain Willow in a booth, since she dislikes high chairs). The manager, a big-fat guy, yelled out to me as we were being seated, "She's not gonna fit in a booth! She's too big!" At the top of his lungs. Over and over again. The waitress kept yelling back over her shoulder, "she'll be fine! she's gonna fit!" I tried to laugh it off and have a good attitude about it--but seriously....why do people think that it's okay to say such things to a pregnant woman? I almost told him that he wouldn't fit in the booth either.

Just to let you know...I did fit in the booth. I had like five extra inches.
And it was my due date.
Thank you very much, big-fat manager.

And baby!

To be continued.....

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