Meeting our girl: Part I

41 weeks.

No dilation.

That’s where we were at when my doctor brought up induction and said we can wait, but I said let’s go ahead and book it. If there wasn’t any progress yet, it didn’t seem like any was going to be made in the next couple of days and I didn’t want to let it go too long to encounter any risks.

Your heart rate was just slightly low, 114-119 instead of 120-160, so I was sent to Labor and Delivery for a non-stress test to make sure everything was OK prior to induction. Your heartrate perked up when you started moving around like usual, and the monitor kept jumping with the contractions that I have felt regularly for months.

“Your uterus is ready,” the nurse, named Kayla, said. “Your contractions are better than the other gal here being induced.”

 I was sent home with a good diagnosis and a sheet that said induction would start the next morning.

We were going to get to meet our girl!

I called my boss and let him know that I wouldn’t be working anymore for a while, and my phone kept buzzing in the background. When I hung up, I realized my doctor had called and texted saying that Labor and Delivery had enough staff that I could start the induction that night.

Your dad was playing video games, “The doctor said we could start induction tonight.”

“What do you think?”

“She said it can be good to get some rest while the first process begins, so we might as well.”

It was 4:30 p.m., and we started to go around the house and make final preparations. We cleaned up the dishes in the kitchen, swept the floor, finished packing our bags. Your dad pulled out ingredients to make dinner and then looked at the clock, 4:45 p.m.

“I think we’re both a little antsy,” I said. “It’s like, what are we supposed to do with this time?”

So we finished a few other chores, and finally sat on the front porch in the sun and ate ham and eggs for dinner --- good protein and still light enough to not make me sick in labor.

We said good-bye to the dog, dropped some cardboard off at the recycling center and headed to the hospital. We put on our N95 masks, unloaded the car and headed to the east entrance of the hospital.

The door was locked.

I looked at the sheet again. It didn’t say where to check in, but we assumed it was the labor and delivery side. I called the number on the form and asked if we were supposed to check in on the east side.

“No, there’s no one there at this time,” a person named Diane, who I later learned is one of the labor and delivery nurses, said. “Go to the emergency entrance and you can register there.”

So we walked back to the red Explorer, put our stuff in the backseat and drove around to the other side of the small hospital. Masks, unpack, walk in --- this time the door was open and we could get registered. An EMT, who of course knew your dad, escorted us through the hospital and up to Labor and Delivery.

The doctor waited with supplies to insert a balloon through the cervix to inflate it and help start dilation. Unfortunately, my body was still not dilated enough to even get the induction started that way. We would instead take a pill to start contractions and try again with the balloon in the morning.

We played a quick game of cribbage and then video chatted with Mimi and Papa as contractions began. I thought the monitor was slipping on my stomach, because the fetal heartrate monitor started to drop.

“I think it’s picking up your heart rate,” Nate said.

We said good-bye to Mimi and Papa as nurses walked in with concerned looks at the fetal heart rate monitor that was now blinking in the 60s.

One nurse moved the monitor receiver around, and the heartrate still did not rise.

“Lay on your left side,” one said, and another took the oxygen mask off of the wall and put it over my nose and mouth.

Your heart rate started to go back up, and we learned that you are not a fan of me sitting up and leaning back. I laid on my left side until your heart rate was stable. Apparently, I had a seven-minute contraction that left you quite uncomfortable.

The nurses asked about my contractions, which were showing up strong on the chart, just like they had at my test that afternoon.

“They’re fine, no more pain than I have had in the past few months with them,” I said, and the nurse looked at me a little oddly, like I should be feeling worse.

She left and I said to your dad, “I feel like I should be in more pain. I don’t know if they’re not that bad or I’m tough!”