When I went to my 39 week appointment and was told I could not be induced, I began to panic even more than I already had been. I was banking on the fact that I would be induced at 39 weeks and have a week to recover before we had to leave on our 11 hour road trip for my sister’s wedding. That was not the case, so I did what I could to take matters into my own hands!When we found out we were pregnant and were due 3 days before my sister’s wedding, I cried. I’ve written in a previous blog post about the drama it had caused, but throughout the entire pregnancy, I had been comforted by the fact that when we told our doctor about the dilemma we were in, she said that she would induce us at 39 weeks. I had a feeling (which was totally wrong) that everything would work out and I would naturally go into labor somewhere between 37 and 39 weeks. That did not happen. But I had the final backup plan that we would schedule induction at my 39 week appointment. I had my 39 week appointment at 38 weeks 6 days just to give myself a day buffer to recover and get to the wedding on time.
Leading up to the 39 week appointment was a total shit show at home. The appointment was on Tuesday, October 25th. The Sunday before that (the 23rd), Jacek got the flu and puked his guts out all over our microfiber couch in the living room. He had had a lot of milk that morning, so the vomit was a wonderful smelling, thick substance filled with curdled milk. I cleaned it up as much as I could (Mark couldn’t even come near it without gagging), but the whole room still smelled like vomit. How was I supposed to bring a newborn home to that? The only positive thing that came from the whole situation was that my usually busy “don’t have time to snuggle with mom” little boy, laid on me and slept for a few hours. I teared up thinking that maybe this was a part of a plan for me to snuggle my baby boy as my baby boy one last time before a new baby boy came into the picture.
By the next day, Monday the 24th, Jacek was perfectly fine. Mark and I dropped the kids off at daycare, and went to work. At 3pm I got a phone call that Harlow was puking her guts out at school. Mother F’er! I immediately left work, picked Mark up on the way (remember, we carpool), and we got Harlow from daycare. The poor girl was laying on a cot, puking in a bucket, and was changed completely into her backup clothes, including backup shoes! Poor girl. She threw up on and off until about 9pm that night. However, she was a champ. She knew to throw up in the vessel we provided for her, and did not act like other three year olds I know who would cry and get scared when they had to vomit. She would lean over, do her thing, and then say “Ick, I don’t like throwing up.” And that was that.
Harlow could not go back to school on Tuesday because she needed to be symptom free for 24 hours. Mark and I decided to both stay home with her and work from home. We wanted to be near each other in case I went into labor. It’s a good thing we stayed home. Not because I went into labor. Because Mark got the full on flu, and I ended up having a fever, feeling like I might throw up, and zapped of all my energy. Ok…time was of the essence. I was supposed to be having a baby at any moment! Instead, we had the plague in our home, it still smelled like vomit, and Mark was in no shape to drive me anywhere let alone hold a leg while I was going to try and push a baby out of my hoo ha! It was time for me to head downtown for my 39 week appointment. I was hoping they were going to check me, say “oh, you are at a point to induce labor, head on over to the hospital and have a baby.” But, Mark was so sick that he could not accompany me to my appointment. I went by myself, and had a towel laid down in the car in case I had to throw up along the way. I did not care. I was still hoping I would get sent to the hospital to have this baby! I could totally do it by myself! My sister in law sent me a text and said she would hold my hand if I went into labor and Mark couldn’t be there! So I had some support!
I made it to the appointment without throwing up. My doc checked me. I was at a 1 and 70% effaced. I asked about induction, and she said no. Excuse me….but WHAT?!? I was banking on the fact that we were going to schedule this induction at this appointment. My heart sank. I asked if there was anything she could do, and she offered up the good ole membrane strip. I told her to get in there and get in there good! Be aggressive! B-E AGGRESSIVE! She also said that I could come back in two days to have it done again if I didn’t go into labor that night.
Thank GOD I didn’t go into labor that night, because all night Mark was up “calling the dinosaurs.” That’s the only way I can explain what it is like when Mark throws up. He runs to the bathroom, leans over the toilet to get into position, and literally throws up while yelling “RRRROOOOOOAAAAARRRRRRRRRR”. He sounds like he is calling the dinosaurs. He says he cannot help it, and that’s just how he throws up. I wish I would’ve known that before I married him. (JK!)
Luckily, the next day (which was October 26 and I was officially 39 weeks) all of us were feeling much better. Both kids went to school, and Mark and I went back to work. I was still pregnant. Nothing happened that day, but I went back to the doctor the next day (Thursday the 27th) to get my membranes stripped again. I had purposely made an appointment with a doctor who they say had “magic fingers” and could make anyone go into labor when she stripped their membranes. Of course, when I get there, they had to switch me to someone else because my appointment got messed up. FML. The doctor checked me, and I was at a 3! Progress! I asked her about induction, and she said NO again. Fuck! Did she not realize that I had things to do?!? I needed to get to my sister’s wedding! She told me she had a good feeling about things and said if I did not go into labor that night, I could come back the next day to get stripped again.
Nothing happened that night, and I went back to the doctor on Friday to get my membranes stripped for the THIRD TIME THAT WEEK. In the meantime, everyone and their brother were sending me texts saying things like “when is your induction scheduled?” “any baby yet?” “are they going to induce you?” My stress levels kept getting higher and higher and I wanted to punch everyone in the face. I was doing everything I could! I was eating spicy foods. I was having super awkward 39 weeks pregnant sex twice a day. I was walking a ton and sometimes skipping. AND, I was getting aggressively finger banged by doctors as much as possible. BACK OFF!!!!
At the appointment on Friday, I saw a doctor I hadn’t seen yet. She was a breath of fresh air. Not only because she looked like a freaking super model and I developed a small crush on her, but because she actually seemed like she was on my side! She entered the room with a medical student (they asked if it was ok first) and it took everything in me to not burst into tears because I knew this was my last chance to try and have this baby and make it to the wedding on time. I asked her if she knew my story/situation, and she said she saw a few notes about wanting to be induced. I totally lost it and burst into tears telling her the whole story about needing to make it to the wedding.
The medical student grabbed me a tissue, and the supermodel doctor looked me in the eye and said “I’m not like all the other doctors here. Lets check to see how close you are to having this baby, and we’ll go from there.” A huge sense of relief overcame me. She checked my cervix…still a 3. DAMNIT! However, Dr. Supermodel was on my side and stripped my membranes one more time. She stripped them so hard, and almost broke my water. She really tried to get me to go into labor naturally right there! She said based on my circumstance, and the fact that I was showing some progress, she was going to call the hospital and get me in for an induction if I didnt have the baby that night. The earliest they could induce me was Sunday morning, which was still two days away and 4 days before we had to leave for the wedding. It was better than nothing, and I just hoped that the baby would come that night.
After my appointment, I walked and walked and walked! I was hoping to get the show on the road especially after the super hard membrane stripping that just happened. Then, it happened. I started having contractions. They were mild and about 12 minutes apart, but they were happening! Mark and I arranged for all the kids to get picked up and taken care of, and once the contractions were about 8 minutes apart, consistent, and getting stronger, we went to the hospital.
First, I had to get checked out to make sure this really was labor. The nurse brought us to a triage room, checked my cervix, and I was still at a freaking 3!!!! WTF! I got hooked up to some monitors to watch the contractions and the baby’s heart beat. After about an hour, I was still at a 3. The nurse had us go for a walk and get some food. We had to come back in two hours to see if anything else was happening.
Mark and I, frustrated, had a lovely dinner date at the hospital cafeteria and then walked the streets of Minneapolis on a beautiful warm October night. It felt nice to have time together to talk and enjoy each other’s company. Contractions were still happening, but slowing down. We went back to the triage room, got checked again, and still no progress. We were getting sent home. I asked if we could just be induced instead of going all the way home since I was already cleared by the doctor for it. Too many people were having babies that night, so they could not get me in the schedule, BUT they moved my induction to Saturday (the next day!) at 7:30am. We were finally going to have a baby!