Baby Buzz

I had 12 hours to progress. I felt like I was on the clock. I didn't want the pitocin which Doctor S. would administer at 8:00 pm that night if I wasn't yet in active labor.

I started doing everything I could to bring on contractions. I squatted. I bounced on my ball. I walked, dragging my IV machine along behind me (until it beeped because it was low on battery, and I had to be plugged in again to recharge). Mom and Brian arrived with flipflops, and I took a shower.

I wanted to walk up and down stairs, so my hips would change position more and help the baby move down, but the stairs next to my room were closed for some reason. So was the room on the other side of mine. There was a sign on the door that said no one could enter, because the area was restricted. I asked Mom, "How do I get a sign like that put on my room so people stop coming in and bothering me?"

While waiting for the arrival of baby, Mom passed much of the time knitting. (She started and finished a baby blanket during the time I was in the hospital. And then there were the shawls...) Meanwhile, Brian took photos of the damage in the room, CSI style.

When Dr. S returned around lunchtime, my contractions were more intense. I would close my eyes and feel them for two quick inhalations, then I would get my breathing under control and get through them. Dr. S was encouraged with my progress and thought I would probably have my baby that day. I too was encouraged, but I was still running out of time. Dr. S told me she would return again in the late afternoon, but if I decided I wanted the pitocin before then, I should tell my nurse and she would tell Dr S., and we would begin.

My doctor also told us that she wasn't going to be on call that night. Her husband was working, so she needed to take care of their two-year-old son. She'd be leaving at 6 pm. We said we understood, but we were understandably disappointed. It's more comfortable when someone you know delivers your baby. The clock was really speeding up if we wanted Dr. S. there for the birth.

Sometime that afternoon, we received a phone call from a well-meaning relative who said I should take the pitocin. I felt like people were giving up on me. I felt like I was being backed into a decision I didn't want to make.

The contractions increased even more in their intensity. Changing position would bring them on, so that's what I did. I would squat, then bounce, then sit, trying to get my body to progress. I even danced, wiggling my hips every which way.

I felt the contractions the most in my back. I frequently draped myself across Ronak's lap while he rubbed. When the contraction was over, my knees were blotchy and they ached. Blankets and hospital pillows were placed on the floor to try to ease the pain on my knees. I quickly learned that hospital pillows are thin and provide little comfort.

When Dr. S returned around dinner time, I was still only a few centimeters dilated, and the contractions, although intense, remained irregular. She explained that she administered pitocin at a lower dose than other doctors. She started at 1 ml. And I might only need the one to get my contractions regular.

My baby would definitely come that night. And Dr. S. would tell the doctor on duty what the plan was. She assured us that Dr. P agreed with her philosophy for delivering babies and we would be very pleased with her.

We were disappointed that Dr. S would probably not be delivering our baby, but it was almost 6 pm. She was leaving. We had no choice.

Our time was almost up. We agreed to the pitocin, just two hours before our 8 pm deadline. I wasn't happy, but I was encouraged that I might just need 1 ml.

I'm sorry, Baby. (Part 5)