This past weekend, Hubs and I had planned to go away overnight
for our fourth anniversary,
just the two of us, for the first time since Quinn was born. Well, that plan fell apart.
I started having small, infrequent contractions last week. The
nurse at my OB’s office assured me this is normal for some women during the
weeks prior to birth, so Hubs and I stuck to our weekend plans.
Then last Thursday morning, while driving to a coffee/play
date, I started having bigger contractions (as well as other symptoms of
pending birth from which I will spare you the gory details). Quinn was born at
37 weeks (which is three weeks early, but still considered full-term), so we’re
prepared for Baby Dragon to
come early as well. But at 36 weeks? That’s considered premature. I tried to
remain calm, especially since Q was in the back seat, and I started making
calls.
This time, the nurse told me to go straight to the hospital.
I called Hubs, and we made arrangements for Quinn to go to grandma’s house. At
the hospital, the nurses monitored my contractions for a while. Then yada yada
yada, they sent me home. “But if the contractions get more intense again, you
come back in,” the nurse instructed. We went home happy that Baby Dragon could
cook a little longer, but we decided that being two hours away from the
hospital was not a good idea, so we canceled our weekend plans. This proved to
be a wise decision.
All was well for about a day. Back to minor, manageable contractions,
until the wee hours of Saturday morning when an excruciating contraction woke
me up from a sound sleep. It lasted over three minutes. Then the contractions
just ebbed and surged without relief in between. The doctor on call that night
told me to go back to the hospital. Once again, we called in favors to a friend
and my mother-in-law to take care of Quinn, and off we went.
Again, they monitored my contractions. This time, the nurse noticed
that the baby’s heart rate dropped during one “monster contraction” (her
words). His heart rate never dropped into the danger zone, but drastically enough
to warrant keeping me under observation for quite a while. Eventually, the
contractions lessened in intensity and frequency, so they sent us home again
with the same instructions. False alarm #2.
UGH! Don’t get me
wrong, I’m thrilled that the baby didn’t come too early. But being told to go
the hospital, having to call in favors to find care for Q, only to be sent home
again is aggravating. I know our family and friends love us and will be there
to help with Q whenever we need it, but I really don’t like being the source of
drama for other people.
As if this back and forth to the hospital wasn’t enough
drama, I also found out that my doctor is on medical leave for the rest of the
year. (I’m not sure why. I hope she’s okay!) So at 36 weeks pregnant, I had to
get a new doctor whom I just met at the hospital last Thursday. She seems very
nice, and I’m sure she’ll do a great job helping to bring Baby Dragon into the
world when the time comes, but it’s weird that a doctor I don’t even know will
perform the c-section.
Anyway, I’m back to having small, no-big-deal contractions. In
fact, I’m having them right now as I write this. It’s almost starting to feel
normal. When the contractions wake me up at night, I get up, drink some water,
and walk around for a few minutes. That seems to help, and I can get back to
sleep.
In the meantime, we’re on high alert knowing this could
happen any minute. As of tomorrow, I’m 37 weeks. So if Baby Dragon can hang in
there until midnight, when this post goes live on the blog, we’ll have made it
to full-term. And I really hope these contractions don’t last for three more weeks.
Several people have told me that no two pregnancies are the same, and that’s definitely true for me. With Quinn, my water broke out of the
blue one morning, and I never had a single contraction until I got the hospital
and they induced labor. This time, I’ve been having contractions for ten days
so far, and my water hasn’t broken.
When I was pregnant for Quinn, a friend gave me the best
advice you can ever give a pregnant woman. She said, “make your plans, but then
let them go.”
We can convince ourselves that we’ve got it all planned out, and
that makes us feel better, but in reality anything can happen. Babies come
early, babies come late, sometimes a c-section is unavoidable, sometimes your
doctor isn’t the one in the delivery room, sometimes you have to cancel your anniversary
plans. But all that matters in the end is that the baby is healthy and strong.
And with the way this kid is kicking me in the liver right now, I think he’s doing
just fine.
