It's Time!

More accurately it's WAY PAST time, but my excuse is that I'm super busy with four kiddos and this blog as well as a lot of other things in my life have taken a back seat. Truthfully, it makes me really sad because I love to blog but blogging isn't a priority...it's a hobby...a luxury...my little people and my man...they are a priority. One day life will be more predictable...we'll resume more of a regular rhythm and when that time comes I hope to find some time for my hobbies again. That time seems far, far away but all my pictures and memories..they'll still  be there ready to be documented to preserve for my kiddos down the road. 

Before the details of my birth story get lost in the fog that is otherwise known as my lack of memory as of late...I'd like to document it. 

So: here goes! 

On Tuesday, October 21st I saw my homebirth midwife. I was really surprised (as was she) that we were meeting at 41 weeks of pregnancy, but tis' was the case and so we met to ensure baby and myself were A-OK. Everything seemed great. She said she thought we'd have a baby soon and that size was good, heart rate was good, my weight and blood pressure were both good and so....we would wait. I felt really at peace after leaving there. She didn't seem the least bit phased or concerned that we were "overdue" and that gave me what I needed to try to rest and be patient. 

On Wednesday, October 22nd I saw the medical midwife that I was seeing for dual care. Well, my actual preferred midwife was out of the office and so I saw one of the other midwifes. I figured that they'd be discussing induction with me and so I was prepared to have that conversation. I was not, however prepared for what I was greeted with upon my arrival to my appointment that day. The nurse who came to retrieve me from the waiting room greeted me by saying: "girl: 42 weeks! We've gotta get that baby out of there!!!" I immediately felt the hairs stand on the back of my neck. First of all, by my calculations I was absolutely not 42 weeks and second of all: if I'm good and baby is good why is it that "we gotta get the baby out"? Once we were in the privacy of an exam room I explained to her that by my dates and calculations I was just at 41 weeks and she said she would check the ultrasound and talk with the midwife but that we'd be discussing induction ASAP. 

When the midwife came in she was speaking to me in hushed and somber tones about how their "policy was to not allow women to go past 42 weeks of pregnancy" and if I'd kept my prior weeks appointment (which I cancelled because I thought the baby was going to come over the weekend) they would have scheduled me for a non stress test and an ultrasound. Now that I was there and 42 weeks by their records I'd be having that non-stress test right then and then we'd be discussing a course of action. I wanted to clarify the dates and long story short...my date was by last period date but their date was based off of a gestational scan I had done at 5 weeks. They predicted a due date based on the fetal size and despite me knowing when my last period was she said they go by the gestational size because it's "so accurate and I had such a good and knowledgeable ultrasound tech". I gotta be honest. I'm not trying to hate or be disrespectful but I'm pretty sure that knowing your last period date should trump anything but whatever..she would hear none of it and put things in motion for my non-stress test. When she left the room I just prayed and prayed. I prayed because I felt pressured and almost judged because I wasn't ready to get checked in for induction right away. I prayed because I wanted wisdom and discernment. I really wanted a home birth but I really wanted what was best for the baby and for me. All this hysteria over being a little overdue had me questioning my own judgement. I just asked the Lord to give me a perfectly clean non-stress test if I was to feel comfortable walking out of the office that day. Well, 45 minutes later at the conclusion of the stress test the midwife walked in and read my report. She looked at me, sighed and smiled and said "this...this non-stress test is perfect...it looks exactly how we want it to look to tell us baby is ok". Shew...big sigh of relief for this Momma. I was encouraged. Ok, now we can push the induction is what I was thinking. She tore the paper strip off the machine and looked up at me and said "ok, so when do you want to have your baby...tomorrow or Friday?" It was like a flight or fight response at that very moment. I tried to remain calm and thankfully I felt a peace and I just told her I didn't want to schedule for either but that I wanted to wait for the following week since the baby and myself were both ok. She said she would need to get approval from an OBGYN on staff because again, their "policy was not to allow women to go over 42 weeks pregnant". I waited patiently for her to go talk to the Dr. and minutes felt like hours but she finally returned and said that she did not get permission to wait until the following week and that the only way they would allow me to schedule for Friday versus the following day was if I was willing to let her perform a cervical massage in the hopes that it would naturally get baby on the way without induction being necessary. Well, I'm against intervening in any way unless necessary truthfully but I was desperate to get out of that office and figure out some kind of game plan to avoid induction at all cost if I could because a: I really wanted to have him/her at home and b: I wanted my body to deliver when it was ready. So: I let her do the cervical massage and it was as lovely as it sounds. I left and the discharge nurse said someone would call me with my induction time for Friday. 

When I got to my car I was so upset. I called Tim and was on the verge of tears. Why was this all happening? What should we do? What was the RIGHT thing to do: wait or induce? We both decided I should call my homebirth midwife and talk it all out with her and that is exactly what I did. The homebirth midwife didn't know about the medical midwife and vice versa. I could give a long drawn out reason for this but the bottom line is I didn't feel it necessary. I'm a big girl...I make my own decisions about my body and we were doing what we felt best...period...the end. She could not have been more gracious. Honestly, I felt the Lord just paving the way...making it all clear. She was empathetic, supportive...wasn't angry in the least and just talked me through it...what our plan would be for natural induction. She was eager to hear my heart and my desire and she ultimately wanted to encourage me and support me in what I wanted...for the baby and for the birth experience. I told her I really just felt weary and wanted the baby to come and she said "go home...walk....have sex if you can and my guess is I'll be hearing from you tonight". 

I got home and talked some more with Tim and then after supper I went for a walk. On that walk I blared praise music and I texted those closest to me and asked them to pray in a bold way that it would all be made clear and if my desire for homebirth was one that was pleasing to the Lord that the baby would come that night. One of my friends who I called prayed with me and her prayer over the phone was so powerful it brought me to tears. I was so uncomfortable on my walk...lots of cramping...lots of panting. I came home and took a bath and soaked for a while and I finally felt relief in the tub but once I got my pajamas on and came down stairs I told Tim that I didn't think we'd be getting much sleep because I was so uncomfortable. He suggested we try to go to bed just in case I went into labor in the middle of the night...the thought being we'd get as much rest as possible. We went to bed a little after 10 and I was just restless. Feeling discomfort but not necessarily pain. I remember the midwife saying...I'm not so concerned about regularity of contractions but if they have a "bite" then it's likely time. Well, after tossing and turning for 30 minutes I told Tim to time the pain I was feeling because it had bite enough to not allow me to doze of. It was like Grey's labor de javu because the pains were 3 minutes apart. It was time.