Samuel’s Birth Story – Part 1

Several people said that once our Peanut arrived, we would forget how long we waited. How anxious we felt and how slowly time seemed to pass. But I will never forget the events leading up to September 25th — the day our sweet baby boy entered this world.

On Friday, September 23rd, we had our second fetal non-stress test at the hospital (routine for women who are 40+ weeks pregnant). We watched baby’s movements on the monitor and noticed that the contractions were occurring more often than they had at our test three days prior. Also, by the end of the two-hour test, I could correctly identify the contractions when they started. We didn’t allow ourselves to get too excited, though, because they were still barely noticeable and not at all regular.

While we were there, my doctor stopped in to examine me (I was still just 2 cm dilated) and review our plans for Monday’s induction. We would arrive at 6pm, and I would receive a prostaglandin suppository. The next morning I would start Pitocin, if needed. It wasn’t at all what I envisioned for my labor, but I respected by doctor’s recommendations. Also, before she left, she did a quick “sweep” in a final attempt to encourage the process to begin naturally, which is ultimately what we wanted.

We left the hospital and met family for dinner a few hours later. We were seated on the second floor, and every time I walked downstairs to use the bathroom (three times total, I believe), I wondered if anyone could have guessed that I was 41 weeks pregnant. I certainly didn’t feel like I expected a 41-week pregnant woman to feel.

We spent the next day with Nick’s family — his parents had driven up from Alabama and his sister was here from Virginia. We made tortellini soup and Nick baked bread and we played Farkle, and I continued to feel sporadic contractions throughout the day. After they left (to stay with other family in town), Nick and I crawled into bed and finished season four of Mad Men. Yes, we finished all four seasons in about 2 1/2 weeks. Impressed?

Our lights were out by midnight, but I only slept for about three hours. I woke up with that familiar cramping feeling — only slightly more intense — and decided to go downstairs. I watched the latest episode of Glee on Hulu before waking Nick. For the next few hours we timed contractions while watching the series premiers of Up All Night, Revenge, and New Girl. By 6am my contractions were roughly five minutes apart, so we went for a walk, ate a light breakfast, and showered. We called the doctor at 8am, and she said to grab our bags and come in. Cue excitement!

Nick immediately morphed into “coach” mode. He rushed around the house, gathering our bags, pillows, the exercise ball, and snacks. The roads were clear, and our drive to the hospital was uneventful. My contractions were still only slightly uncomfortable, but they were definitely occurring at regular intervals.

When we arrived at the hospital, I was connected to the fetal monitor for 20 minutes before I was allowed to get up and move around. We walked the halls, peeking into rooms of new parents and listening for newborn cries — anticipation building.

The nurse checked me three times over the next three hours, but I was holding steady at just 4 cm. At 11am, she suggested we go home and labor there rather than being admitted and constrained to the IV pole. She said we would know when it was time to return. Nick and I discussed it and decided to take her advice — and we are so glad that we did!

We were home by noon and spent the afternoon watching football and walking around the neighborhood. I tried to relax, but it became increasingly more difficult to do so as my contractions intensified. By 3pm, we were breathing through the contractions, I was leaning over the couch and swaying my hips, and Nick was massaging my lower back. Yes, the nurse was correct — we certainly knew when it was time to return to the hospital. And that second trip was much different than the first. Nick may have even ran a red light or two.

Stay tuned for Part 2 …