I really thought last night was the night. Everything felt like it had just lined up perfectly - my contractions were 3 minutes apart and getting stronger and earlier in the weekend, I had had some interesting things happen too graphic to print here. All correlated with signs of early labor in all three of my baby books (I like to cross-reference).
And yet, by 11pm last night, we were back at home. No baby.
Things started on Friday (again, I'm not going to describe it because 1. it's gross and 2. it's kind of personal). By Sunday, I was feeling some really strong, rhythmic contractions. We broke out contractiontimer.com and hit the button every time a contraction started or stopped. It felt a little like pushing the button on LOST - I kept wondering if we would get those weird symbols on our computer at one point (or at least a pop-up that said, "GO TO THE HOSPITAL!"). After 2 1/2 hours of this, and the contractions getting stronger, I told Brian, "It's time."
He shaved for the occasion and put on a nice shirt. I swept the kitchen floor, he put the bags in the car, we secured the cat together, and off we went. I knew the first bad sign was that I didn't like our nurse. She ended each statement with a weird inflection in her voice, almost as though she was asking a question instead of making a comment. ("Here is your apple juice?" "Baby's heart rate looks good?" "I'm going to check you now?") I'll be fair, I probably would hated anyone on site as my nurse, including if Erik the Vampire from True Blood (yum!) after she gave me the first round of bad news - still 1 cm dilated, 50% effaced, and the baby is so high up there, the nurse said he was in "Alaska." ("He's in Alaska?") Yes, he's just floating around in there, no head engagement, which means no pressure on my cervix, which means no dilation.
She was just as stumped as we were as to why things were failing to progress. I was having major contractions ("with bite" as she described them. Or, more accurately, "with bite?") that were getting stronger and happening every three minutes. She was like, "Well, you did exactly everything right...you're just not dilating." I was pretty horrified at that point, and asked...so am I supposed to do this, like, indefinitely? How in the world am I going to sleep? Or walk? Or function? She said most people with extra fluid usually will have their membranes rupture on their own, and my case seems to be unique. She also said my doctors would not let me go on like this for weeks - after three days of "prolonged latent labor" they would "call it" (eek! That phrase again) and either induce or do a c-section. Both of which at this point, still require an amnio. Which Brian and I don't want to do.
So I feel as though I am stuck in the purgatory of pregnancy. I had prepared myself for physical pain and emotional upheaval, but what's surprising me is the psychological torture of never knowing what the hell is going on, and even when I DO think I know what's going on, being WRONG most of the time. It's really doing a number on my self-confidence.
Not to mention, my body is giving up on me. I'm starting to realize it's not walking or movement that is causing these back spasms - it's being pregnant. Laying in that hospital bed (i.e. medieval torture device) was almost as painful as experiencing the damn contractions. By the time I got home, my body was just spent. I couldn't bend, I couldn't stand up straight, I couldn't even walk up the stairs. Several warmed corn pillows later, along with more Tylenol, things felt more manageable. Even as I'm typing this now, I am hunched over in pain. My short little torso has never had this amount of pressure put on it before and it's starting to buckle. Literally.
I took a Benadryl last night per the recommendation of the nurse and slept okay for the most part. I'm supposed to call George today and tell him about last night, but I don't think I will. Why? I had called his office yesterday afternoon to report my symptoms, and not surprisingly, never received a call back (Strike # 39,832). I mean, what is he going to do? Nothing. He'll tell me everything is fine and come to my appointment on Wednesday. That's if I even talk with him; I'm sure I'll get some slow-talking nurse who takes 10 minutes to find my chart and then 2 minutes to answer my question. I see Dick this morning (or at least, Dick's staff) so hopefully they'll be better able to advise me.
And I think the real cherry on top, aside from the disappointing news at the hospital and all of my twisted pain, was coming home to find four to six teenagers hanging out on our neighbor's porch, drinking 40s. Yup, 40s. Who even does that? It was close to 11:30pm and they looked like they were having a fairly good time. All were clearly underage with their eyeliner applied carefully, their mohawks standing straight up, and their leather pants adhered to their skinny legs. Brian and I just sat silently in the car for several seconds until I turned to him and asked, "Seriously...who did I piss off in another life? Why are we dealing with this?" He didn't answer, but just took the bags out of the car without a word. If there are cans in our yard this morning, I'm raising holy hell.
I'm grumpy. Sorry. I'm tired, I'm in pain, and I fear this child is going to float around in "Alaska" happily for the rest of the pregnancy. I also feel like that Greek mythology character who was punished for some wrongdoing against a god by never being able to fully quench his thirst or sate his hunger. Do you know who I'm talking about? I can't remember his name, but he's the guy who would reach for a drink of water at his feet, only to have the water ebb away, and then when he would reach for the grapes near his head, they would be *just* out of reach. Seriously, just chain me to a boulder and have an eagle chew on my liver for the rest of eternity. It's got to be better than this.
In happier news, my nephew is coming into the world tomorrow! Little baby Ben should be here via c-section around 7:30am, PST. I'm not even going to pretend to lie and say I'm not jealous that Kelly has a definite END to her pregnancy. What a wonderful (and exciting) feeling. So be sure to send good thoughts north to MN tonight and tomorrow as they prepare for their little guy to join them. Congrats, Kelly & Jake!