The Unexpected Birth pt. 1

I am nearly 9 months postpartum and finally ready to share Arlo's entrance into our world. Well, ready to put it permanently on the internet.

40 weeks, 3 days. Or, 9 months and 10 days from approximated day 1 of pregnancy. Other than an exhausting physical experience, we were fortunate to have a boring pregnancy. Routine doctor visits, no new notes progressing normally. Until 3 days pass the due date... Here it is - story mode.

In high spirits, I waddle in discomfort to the doctor. It was only supposed to be a status check - see how much I might be dilating. After all, my husband is at home. My doula isn't here. It's just me. I can't be giving birth, not yet. My brain whispers, "I don't know what I'm doing."

The nurse wraps the blood pressure cuff around my arm. Hoping stillness and slow breaths will keep my nerves down, I fake a smile. As if a calm face could make it true. My BP is high. Something has finally gone wrong. Am I ready? Are we ready? Oh god - me - a mother? Can I do this? The nurse reassures me everything is okay. I am physically stable and we will have a chat until I cool down to remeasure my BP.

Five minutes have passed. I am a bundle of nerves - the type of christmas lights bundle that you can't unknot and end up throwing out. She measures my BP again. Another high result. The OB comes in and we have the chat. The dang chat. Yes, it could be nothing... but, what if it is? Me and another pregnant person are escorted to OB triage. We find comfort in casual conversation before we are separated into lonely single bed rooms. I am monitored for a dull 4 hours with no phone charger - 3 hours longer than my intended visit. My car is parked in the wrong garage for extended hospital visits and I don't have my to-go bag or my support system. All I want in this moment is the comfort of my home.

The hospital is busy. An ER doctor visits me to discuss my urine sample. No pregnant woman wants to hear that protein was found in their urine - the telltale sign of preeclampsia. But he has to say it out loud, in my stuffy room of outdated walls. Fuck. Me. Okay, okay. No biggie, I'm in the right place. Modern medicine is designed to help this exact scenario. My dreams of laboring so comfortably and naturally at home that baby would slip out in the car is officially just a dream. That's okay. I'm prepared. I read Transformed at Birth and I've been in prenatal counseling to prepare me for this moment. I can totally do this.

The nurse said it - induction. Per doctors request, she told me they want to proceed inducing me now. No! This simply cannot happen. I ask the nurse if I can leave and come back. She leaves, checks in with the OB on shift. They are fully booked for induction tomorrow and need to induce me. Nope. I have to go home. I bluntly tell the nurse that I will leave and not come back until it is an emergency to which she ran off again, returned, and asked if I could come back at 8pm. Absolutely! 8pm it is.

to be continued...