Tales From the Trenches!

Anticipating my fourth child in the fall, I've been thinking back on my last birth. I have very fond memories of the experience, but I also have a few, hmmm, interesting memories, too.

The hospital where my midwife practices is about an hour from our home. (There are at least four hospitals in our area that are closer, but that is where she practices so that is where we go.) I went into labor 2 1/2 weeks early with my third, and having been on the late side with my first two, I was unsure it was the real thing at first. But the contactions kept coming so we set off for the hospital.

We got there around 5:30 am and were introduced to our nurse who happened to share my first name. Neat, I thought! The hospital has a birthing center with labor/delivery/ recovery/postpartum rooms so once you are admitted you stay in the same place for the duration of your time there. However, before being admitted, you go to an observation room to "make sure you are really in labor." As Kristin hooks up a fetal monitor, she asks the standard, "So is this your first?" I tell her it was actually my third and she says, "Oh, you're a glutton for punishment!" Not what you tell a laboring woman. First sign that Kristin and I would not be doing any serious bonding!

Well, she watches the monitors for awhile and tells me she might need to send me home because I don't seem to be in active labor. Keep in mind, "home" is an hour away and this is my third child! In her defense, my contractions were strong, but coming anywhere from 4 to 11 minutes apart. While she goes to talk to the doctor on call, I ask to go to the bathroom. When I come back to the room, I sit down on the bed...and it falls in half. (It was one of those beds that breaks apart for the pushing stage.) My 8 1/2 month pregnant self goes straight into the floor. Kristin comes running back in the room asking if I'm alright and comments that she must not have secured the bed properly! Hmmm.

Kristin decides to check me again and discovers that even though I'm "not in active labor" I've managed to go from 3 cm to 7 cm in the last hour so I get admitted.

Lucky for me, shift change arrives, Kristin goes home, I get a new nurse who I adore, and Owen is born about two-and-a-half hours later.