Expect Anything: Part 1

The #1 piece of advice I would give an expectant mother is to be prepared for anything. That doesn't mean you should start worrying about every possible complication, but don't assume anything about how your pregnancy, labor, and birth experience will go.

I mostly worried about two things: having an epidural and getting induced.

Everyone told me first babies tend to come late. I naturally assumed my baby would follow the trend. I was due the last week in March, so I thought my daughter would for sure be an April baby. I worried about her being so late that I would need help going into labor. I read about inductions. I heard other people's stories of getting induced and how much more intense the contractions become. I wanted desperately to avoid an induction.

I planned to stop working the week of my due date, which was on a Wednesday. Thursdays were the days of my weekly doctor visits, where I was repeatedly told I was not dilated at all. At work, people kept asking me if I felt like I was going into labor soon, and I kept telling them no, I didn't. I wasn't really having strong Braxton Hicks contractions--I only had some light cramping from time to time. The only thing I really felt was huge and unable to breathe.

The Thursday before I was supposed to stop working, I woke up at 4:13 in the morning, went to the bathroom, and tried to convince myself my water had not just broken. I knew I should wake up Z, but what if it was nothing? What if I woke him up and we went to the hospital in the middle of the night only to be told it was a false alarm? Then both our nights would have been ruined and we would have to go to work exhausted. I tried to get back into bed, but every time I started walking, it became pretty obvious that going back to sleep would be a mistake.

"Z," I said.

No response.

"Z!"

"Hmmph?"

"Um, I think my water broke."

Then Z sat up.

"What?"

We were not prepared. We hadn't even finished packing our hospital bags! I called my doctor and left a message with the nighttime answering service. Then we scrambled around our apartment throwing things for us and the baby into a small suitcase--clothes, toiletries, hat for baby (that was humongous on her), pacifiers (that we didn't end up needing), bottles just in case (that we also didn't need), and stuffing a few more things into a small bag for during labor--lip balm (that I didn't use), picture of the baby's last sonogram as inspiration (that I also didn't use), camera, toothbrush and toothpaste, phone, chargers.

While waiting for the doctor to call back, I took a shower. I highly recommend this. You have no idea when you will shower next, and you are about to have an experience that will make you feel pretty gross. You don't want to go into it feeling gross already. Let's call taking a shower tip #1 for the labor and delivery process.

Then the doctor called back and we were on our way.

It was about 6:00 am by the time we left the apartment. A few people in our building started trickling out of their apartments to head to work. I desperately did not want to run into anyone we knew. I felt enveloped in a private bubble of 'going-to-the-hospital-to-have-a-baby' and I did not want that bubble punctured. Luckily, we made it to the car without any run-ins.

The trip to the hospital was uneventful. There was no traffic on the road yet so we made it there in about 15 minutes. We pulled up to the front and were allowed to leave our car there for 20 minutes so Z could escort me inside to get admitted.

Z asked me if I needed a wheelchair but I did not seem to be having contractions and could walk just fine. My only problem was, you know, my broken water. We headed to the registration desk, me feeling unsure about whether this was the right time. I wasn't feeling much in the pain department, but I knew that you were supposed to go to the hospital if your water breaks. I felt mostly dazed and wary about what would happen next.

A few weeks earlier, we took a tour of the hospital and preregistered. I did not quite understand the importance of preregistering until we sat there in the office of admission and all I had to tell them was my name. They pulled up on the computer who my OB was, who we were using as our pediatrician, and our insurance information. This would be tip #2 (remember, tip #1 was shower before you go): preregister. Especially since many women are already having contractions by the time they get to the hospital and you really do not want to be bothered with giving all your information when you can barely talk from the pain.

Still, it took a while to get admitted and Z went to park the car meanwhile. By the time he came back, we had just finished and it was time to go to the triage room.

The triage room has three beds, each with a curtain pulled around it for privacy. There is one shared bathroom. The purpose of the triage room is to ascertain how ready you are to start having your baby (choices: ready to go to a labor and delivery room, getting ready but your body needs more time, complete false alarm).

I changed into a hospital gown and was assigned to the middle bed. A nurse came and hooked me up to an automatic blood pressure cuff that contracted and released every few minutes, and to a fetal monitor, which is basically a machine that monitors your contractions and the baby's heartbeat. The machine is connected to round pads that get placed on your abdomen and are held there by a velcro belt. I found it relaxing to hear the rapid ba-bumps of my baby's heartbeat coupled with the periodic tight hugs of the blood pressure cuff. The odd thing was I could also hear ba-bumps coming from behind the curtain on my right.

At this point, Z and I were left alone for a little while. Nurses periodically checked in and asked for my medical history (why they didn't all have it on one chart, I don't know), but for the most part, we hung out and waited--me lying on the hospital bed, Z sitting in the chair beside me. I later learned there is a lot of hanging out and waiting in the hospital.

At 8:00 exactly, I said, "Z, we should probably call my work and tell them I'm not coming in today."
I could not wait to call work. I had been checking my phone every few minutes to see when it would be a late enough time to call (remember, we left home at 6 am). I work in a school, and for the past few weeks, the other teachers kept asking, "When are you having your baby already?!"

I made Z call because I thought it would be more exciting that way.

"Hello?" the principal answered the phone.

"Hi, this is Z, Shira's husband."

"Oh, hi!" I could hear from the phone. "How is Shira doing?"

I could tell from her voice that she knew why he was calling, and she was excited about it.

"Well, Shira's water broke this morning, so she'll be a little late for work."

"Z!" I said, laughing.

After the phone call, a nurse came in with a resident. They asked for my medical history (again), which Z conveniently had typed out on his phone. All he had to do was keep showing the list on his phone to the nurses so that I would not have to repeat myself. While convenient at this point in the story, it was absolutely necessary later on. So that will be tip #3: have your husband prepared to give over your medical history without your assistance, preferably already written out so he doesn't have to repeat himself (and won't forget anything).

"Are you having contractions?" the nurse asked.

I shrugged.

"I don't think so...I just feel sort of crampy," I said.

The nurse looked at the print-out from my fetal monitor.

"Oh, sure you are," she said, pointing at some waves. "You're having some nice contractions about seven minutes apart."

Well, that was news to me!

She checked to make sure that what I thought was my water breaking actually was amniotic fluid (it was), and then checked my cervix. That hurt. A lot.

"Well, those contractions are doing something!" she said brightly. "You're one and a half centimeters dilated!"

"Wow," I said. "Am I in labor?"


"Well...getting there. You need to be at least three centimeters dilated to be in active labor. Don't worry though, we can help you along!"

I knew what that meant.

"I really don't want to be induced," I said. I knew she was only suggesting induction because my water had broken and that meant they wanted the baby delivered within 24 hours. Still, I wanted to go into labor on my own.

"Okay, let me check with your doctor and make sure it's okay to let you go home and wait for labor to start."

Well, that was a relief. The nurse came back and reported that my Ob (who, by the way, I had yet to actually see) gave the go ahead, but said I should come back to the hospital by six pm if labor had not yet started and I would have to get induced.

The nurse took off the blood pressure cuff and fetal monitor, and I changed back into my regular clothes. It felt a little anticlimactic to be going home, but at least I knew we were having our baby sometime today.

"Make sure to eat a good, carby meal when you get home," a different nurse said as we left. "Once you get back here, it will be a while until you eat again."

She grinned at us. Boy, did she have good advice. Tip #4: eat and drink before going to the hospital (unless you have been instructed otherwise by your doctor). Do not go into the hospital hungry or thirsty, because all you will get until (possibly) several hours after baby's arrival is ice chips.

As we left, my cramps started to feel more painful, but I did not think much of them. I was focused much more on getting something to eat. I sat on a bench outside the hospital and waited for Z to get the car, trying not to think about the cramps. After all, the nurse had said I was only 1.5 centimeters dilated. Still, I was feeling pretty uncomfortable by the time I got into the car.

At about 9:30 am, Z and I drove back home.

[To be continued...]