This was my fourth pregnancy, and I still didn't have a baby. I would have done anything to have this baby and I wanted what was best. In my mind this was an unmedicated birth as I had been unmedicated during the pregnancy and I worried about the increased rate of cesareans with epidurals, etc.
I prepared myself (I was already a childbirth educator and doula) by reading a lot of books, I attended Lamaze classes, several different hospital classes (even at different hospitals), talking to my doctor, and developing a birth plan.
My husband was very supportive and we chose my cousin to assist us at the birth. Everything was going along fine and just wonderfully. I had a minor car accident 12 days before my due date. Due to the fact that I had decreased fetal movement and some tenderness in my abdomen, we decided to do a non-stress test. The baby wasn't very active, but wasn't having problems either. We decided that an ultrasound might be a bit more conclusive, in case there was something we didn't see.
I had my first and only ultrasound of the pregnancy and the baby was just perfect. Probably just a bit shaken from all the hoopla! I went home to await my due date. :) (BTW, no matter how much money my mom tried to give us, we were NOT going to find out the sex!)
My due date came and went... Everyday felt like a year. I was getting really anxious about having the baby. However, I wanted to avoid an induction, because again it increased the risks of something going wrong in an uncomplicated pregnancy. Three days later, December 6, I was babysitting my 1 yo nephew and my newest nephew who was 5 weeks old. I went home and tried to go to sleep, my husband was still at work.
After having been tired for days, and having alternating bouts of trying to fake bursts of energy, I was still exhausted. I had some small contractions that I assumed were braxton-hicks. I slept well, for about an hour. DH got home from work and we watched a bit of TV. Then I decided to go back to bed.
7 am the next morning, I was up with contractions about 10 minutes apart and some bloody show. I tried to wake my husband up and tell him, but he just mumbled and went back to bed. I cleaned around the house and got some stuff ready. I got back in bed around 10:30 am and tried to wake him up again, this time I said nothing about the contractions. I just smiled and initiated a great labor motivator.
When we finally got out of bed, the contractions were about 6 minutes apart and not feeling bad at all. I admitted that I was in labor and he was horrified! He didn't believe me. I fixed lunch and baked cookies. When it came time to eat the cookies, he grabbed mine and said, "If you are in labor you don't need to be eating."
I suggested a walk. We went everywhere around the neighborhood. It was a fairly warm day for December. We ran into my sister swimming at the bubble down the street and told her that I was in labor. My grandparents lived right behind us so we stopped there for a bit. About 3 p.m. the contractions were about 3 minutes apart and lasting 60 seconds. I was still doing very well as long as I moved around or stayed in the tub.
He panicked, he wanted me to call the doctor. Our instructions had been to call when they were 5 minutes apart for an hour and these had been 3 minutes apart for 5 hours. I really didn't feel it was time. However, I caved in as he begged me not to have the baby on the floor in the bathroom (big joke, be sure to read Benjamin's Birth too). The doctor on call wasn't mine, and I had never met her, but in my mind I figured she was female and would be sympathetic, so I didn't worry.
No strange car ride over, no screaming at the bumps...the only funny story that I have to tell about the trip to the hospital was the fact that I made him park in the back lot and we walked all the way to the hospital and up six flights of stairs. I got on the elevator at the 6th floor and rode it to the seventh because I was afraid that if they saw me coming up the stairs they would assume I wasn't in labor.
We had a problem finding my cousin, but eventually she showed up at the hospital with my mom and her husband (he's really my cousin). We were the only ones there. The doctor wouldn't be stopping by for awhile, so they delayed the heparin lock. I was only 3 centimeters dilated. And the baby's head was high. Because my waters hadn't broken, they let me walk around, I debated about going home, but decided to wait for the doctor and roam the halls, because they weren't bothering me. My family was nervous because every other female in my generation had had a cesarean, despite the large pelvises and relatively small babies. I was determined to be different.
