It started at about 6am, when I awoke in a panic because the baby was hardly moving compared to before. I mean, he was still moving a little, and I know it's normal for him to decrease his movements in the final stretch, since there's so much less room for him in there, but it just felt like such a sudden and marked decrease.... But he definitely *was* moving some, so I chalked it up to some not-fully-awake-over-reacting, although I was very glad that I'd be seeing my doctor later.
Later in the morning, I finally packed my bag for the hospital, as I knew there was a chance that the doctor would decide at my appointment that the baby should come out. After all, she kind of wanted to take him out last week. But the plan was that if everything looked stable we'd wait until Thursday, and my intuition was telling me that's when it was going to be. Bob was thinking the same thing (in fact, he hadn't packed his bags yet, and from what I could tell wasn't going to until Wednesday. Fine; we were pretty sure he wasn't coming yet). ANYway...
I had made plans to have an early lunch with both my mom (who's in town from CA for the birth) and my mother-in-law at a nice little cafe; after that my mom and I would head straight to the doctor for my appointment. Lunch was lovely and I felt really happy for the baby, that he's going to have two such wonderful women as his grandmas.
After lunch my mom and I made a quick stop by a great little toy store that is near the cafe, and the strangest thing happened--even though it was sunny, and not really all *that* cold, and April-freaking-27th, it started to snow. Weird. It briefly crossed my mind that I was glad he wasn't going to be born today. I guess I was just feeling a little (uncharacteristically) superstitious or something, but it just seemed too odd to me.
At the appointment, we started with a non-stress test, as usual these days, to check Ace's heart rate. It was fine, but still he wasn't moving much. They did the little noise zapper, which last time made him go crazy, but he only moved for a minute or two, and even then, not all that much. The doctor came in and said his heart rate looked ok, but she was thinking we should just go ahead with the induction today. TODAY? TODAY?
Ok, you might be thinking... what's the big difference, an induction on Tuesday or on Wednesday night/Thursday morning? What difference was one more day going to make? My bag was packed; all I had to do was to call Bob and tell him to bring it on over. But for some reason I was just having a very hard time wrapping my mind around this one.
The doctor ordered another ultrasound, which she said would help us decide--we could probably see better why the baby wasn't moving so much, check the fluid, and all that. So I called Bob and told him to pack his bag and get mine and Ace's ready, and be ready to head on over, pending a later update.
They sent my mom and me back to the waiting room, because there was a long backlog of patients waiting for (last-minute/previously unscheduled) ultrasounds. So, we sat. And we sat. And I tried to get used to the idea that the baby was probably coming in a few hours. Eeeek! Eeeeek! Okay!
By this time it was already after 3:00; the non-stress had taken a long time, and they weren't kidding about the backlog. Woman after woman was called in for an ultrasound. Finally it was my turn. All the technicians in this office are super-nice, but it happened to be my favorite one who called me in. I took this as a good sign! My mom was excited because she had never seen a live ultrasound before (only the pictures afterwards).
Well the technician set the wand down high on my abdomen and what do you suppose she saw first thing? The baby's HEAD. Up high. After months and months of being in the perfect position (including just last Thursday, when I had my last ultrasound), this baby had flipped! WHAT? Not only that, but she was seeing something else in there, because she asked me if I had a history of fibroids. WHAT? I did actually have a fibroid once, but it had long since disappeared. But she said there was something that she really couldn't tell what it was that was almost sort of blocking the exit in there. She looked at it for a long time, and then said maybe it was possibly some sort of echo and wasn't really anything. She also said that today had been a weird, weird day, with all kinds of strange things happening. I was beginning to see her point.
Ok, so, I went into an exam room to discuss these new developments with the doctor, but then another ultrasound technician came in and said she wanted to take a look too, to see if she could figure out what the mystery mass was. So, back into another ultrasound room. (Stop me if this is getting tedious. Ok, you can't actually stop me, but feel free to stop reading or at least skip ahead!!) More of that goop on my abdomen, and another look... the baby was still breech, or maybe more sort of transverse (sideways), but the good news was that the mystery mass was totally gone. Ok, well, whew.
Back to the exam room to wait for the doctor. At this point it was about 4:40. I hadn't eaten since before noon and was getting pretty hungry, and so was my mom, so we decided to split a (very small!) granola bar that I had in my purse. It was delicious, by the way. And, as it turns out, a rather fateful little snack.
A few minutes after that, the doctor comes in and says that I have two options, but either way the baby is going to be born today, that she's going to admit me to the hospital right away. Ok, this is really happening. Ok.
So, the two options are: C-section, or she tries to flip the baby back and if it works we induce right away before he can move back again, and if not we do a C-section anyway. Whoah. Really?
Now, I have to admit, part of me is thinking that I have brought this on myself--last time, I found giving birth to be so incredibly painful and traumatic, and I had an abnormally long recovery, that I have been sort of daydreaming about having a C-section. I think I may have mentioned somewhere in this blog that even though I have always wanted to have more kids, I was never thrilled about going through that again, and in fact had tried to adopt a little girl from Mexico about 6 years ago, which ended up falling through. But anyway, I'm thinking, how bad could a C-section really be? 6 weeks of recovery? I had that last time anyway (without getting overly personal, I had a bad tear that took longer than it should have to heal). And if you were going to choose where you were going to be sliced open, would it be at your most vulnerable spot, or low across your stomach? The choice seems mighty clear to me, although I know that when they cut open your stomach they're also cutting through a lot of muscle and other stuff and it's a much more serious cut.
Ok. Anyway. I'm also fearful of the cord getting wrapped around the baby's neck in the process of flipping him. I know that most of the time when the cord does that it's no problem, but it actually happened to my stepson, and he has some pretty severe learning disabilities that have been attributed to loss of oxygen during birth because of it. So, just something else to be worried about.
Anyway, at this point the doctor says we'll need to wait to do either until 6 hours after I last ate. Your stomach has to be empty for the anesthesia, and even if I opt for the flip I have to be ready for the C-section, right away, because occasionally (not usually, but it happens) flipping the baby can put him in distress and they need to take him out right away. So, when did I last eat? Uh-oh; I just had half a granola bar. Does that count?!
Yes, it does count, so we have about five hours and 45 minutes to mull all of this over. Ok. So, she gives me my paperwork and tells me to head up to the maternity ward, to have Bob come join me, and we can talk and make our decision then. Either way I'm going to be hooked up to an IV (which is just as well if I can't eat or drink anything for the next 6 hours, because I'm starting to get thirsty!), so we might as well get started.
I call Bob and tell him to meet us up there, and my mom and I head down the hall. Passing by the window, I look out and see that the beautiful, sunny day has again turned snowy! I try (unsuccessfully) to ban from my mind the blues song "Born Under a Bad Sign"! I'm really not a superstitious person in general. But for some reason, this is what kept going through my head.
Anyway, up we go to the maternity ward. Bob gets there pretty soon, suitcases in tow, and he and my mom watch and wait while I'm hooked up to an IV, have blood drawn, and fill out 50 million forms with the nurses. All of this takes quite some time. Finally, at around 6:45, we're done with the forms. My mom heads down to the cafeteria for a little dinner and Bob and I start talking. Do we do the flip? Do we just go right for the C-section?! How do I make such a decision? And my head is still spinning at this point as I even try to grapple with the fact that the baby is going to be born tonight.
The doctor comes in and chats with us, and does a quick ultrasound and confirms that Ace's head is still up. We tell her we still haven't decided.
Our phones are ringing a lot. Various family on both sides wanting to know what's up. We still haven't decided.
The doctor leaves again to let us have some more time to talk/think about it, but she also says that if we want to skip the flip and go for the C-section, we might actually wait until tomorrow morning or even Thursday. She said if we want to do the flip, time is sort of of the essence, since the fluid has been starting to decrease, and will continue to do so, which makes a successful flip less likely. But since I ate that granola bar, in any case we can't really do anything until about 11pm anyway, so we still have some time to decide. In the meantime, she figures she will check with the anesthesiologist who's on duty, because we can't do anything without the anesthesiologist being ready.
So, Bob and I talk about it some more. Are we staying? Are we going home? Are we doing it tonight? Are we spending the night in the hospital but doing it first thing in the morning? Are we trying the flip? Going straight for the C-section?! Aaaaaaaah!
My mom comes back and then leaves us to go home and get George from his friend's house and put him to bed; we tell her we'll call her and keep her posted. Bob's mom wants to know if we'd like her to come (she lives about 40 minutes away). We have no idea what to tell her. We just can't decide.
I actually resort to flipping a coin. (I like to do this sometimes to clarify how I'm feeling about a difficult decision. Bob thinks it's completely nuts.) Heads I do the C-section, tails we try for the flip. First toss: Tails. Ok, of course I have to try again; two out of three, right? Second toss: Heads. Ok. Third toss: Tails. Really? How about three out of five? Fourth, fifth, and sixth tosses: Heads! This is not giving me the clarity in my own mind that I was hoping for. I'm just overwhelmed and don't know what to do. I do a little prayer/chant/meditation for clarity, and it comes to me to tell her to try for the flip, even though I'm not feeling great about it (neither am I feeling great about C-section. *Adoption* is sounding good at this point, though I do realize it's a bit late for that). So anyway, I figure leave it up to fate, or Ace, or whatever--try for the flip and if it doesn't work we'll have our clear and definite answer. Ok.
The doctor comes back in and I tell her the new plan, and she tells us that she's talked it over with the anesthesiologist, and he doesn't seem too keen on doing a non-emergency C-section at midnight. And since I don't have my heart set on a vaginal delivery, and will be fine if the flip doesn't work (again, the more time goes by the less likely the success at this point), we all agree that we'll just wait for Thursday morning after all!!!! Who knows; maybe he'll even have flipped himself back by then.
Whew. CRAZY. Crazy, weird, snowy April 27. Honestly, even though I had finally wrapped my mind around delivering, I was not too sorry to wait. Even though it meant pulling out the IV, having to go through all the intake paperwork again, and dragging all of our stuff back home and then back again to the hospital... it seemed like the right thing to do.
But I couldn't help thinking if I hadn't had that half a granola bar at nearly 5pm, I could very likely have my baby in my arms right then. (Finished eating lunch at just before noon, so they could have started the process pretty much as soon as they had gotten the IV in and done the intake paperwork.)
But that's ok. I'm really ok with this. I'm really ok with Thursday. And even though this hospital admittance seems like it may have been an exercise in futility, it actually served a purpose.
I have been so scared about this birth. I really have not felt "connected" to it. I've had a wonderful, wonderful pregnancy, and feel a very strong connection to the baby. But I've been almost in denial about the actual birth. And in an odd (and quite disruptive!) kind of way, this experience actually kind of centered me and helped me get ready to *really* do this thing, one way or the other.
Bob and I headed out for a late dinner (it was about 9:30 by the time I was discharged) at Ruby Tuesday's, which gave us the chance to unwind a bit together. It was so nice. He's such a supportive, kind, and fun partner, and I'm so happy we found each other, and that we're getting to have a kid together. Whatever ends up happening on Thursday, I know we'll be able to handle it just fine.
I can do this, people!
Some pics:
The grandmas at lunch
Whoah! Ready to go. Or not.
Mom waiting patiently...
My awesome, awesome doctor
Suitcases back out of the closet...
...and back down the hall to go back home for a day!
Not exactly where I thought I'd be, but not a bad way to end the day, nonetheless.
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