Painful Indecisions: "Inny" or "Outty"

The last 48 hours have been like a bizzare rollercoaster ride. Or just a very strange waking dream.


It started with contractions on sunday at 35 weeks pregnant. By monday I had shrugged them off and started getting the house hold ready (cleaning and such) for the baby. Packing my bags for the hospital in the next 4 weeks, and going to a doctors appointment that morning.

It was one of those really terribly cold and miserable mornings, and my mood was all over the place. I didn't feel like writing, the contractions from the day before we're like having a bee next to my ear that wouldn't go away, and I wasn't looking forward to going all the way across town in the rain and cold. It was dark, damp, and gross outside, and all I have in the way of shoes is 2 pairs of sandals, and a pair of ballerina pumps. I opted for the last option, and cleverly found a solution to my problems: Get a bus across town. So I figured out the time I needed to be out there waiting and rushed around getting everything ready.

By the time I got to where I thought the bus stop was, it wasnt there. I asked a few other hurried people if they knew where it was, and the they all seemed to look at me like I was stupid and said it would be faster to walk there. And yes, when you're healthy, not pushing a pram in the rain, and not 35 weeks pregnant with contractions that morning, walking WOULD be easier! However that was not the case for me. In the end I looked up and down the street only to be at a loss for this bus stop, and fearing missing my appointment, I had little choice but to walk. By this time my daughter is screaming, and I'm pretty much soaked through since I can't hold an umbrella and push a pram, and for obvious reasons my coat wouldn't button up.

It really amazed me how someone can be so stupid not to notice a heavily pregnant woman with one child already, and just nochalantly comment with "Why not walk?". The walk to the other side of town, was slow, but I had time since I had planned to take the bus early and wait a half an hour at the clinic. At this point I was hoping to dry out with those 30 extra minutes mostly. Also, the walk is about a mile away, while not uncomfortable in the best of conditions, and usually done within 30 minutes, took me over an hour and 15 minutes, and this was only making it to the middle of town.

I realized at this point something was wrong, because these contractions were getting worse; and making me stop in my tracks to pant. Which was making an already grumpy mummy more miserable. (Try saying that ten times fast!) So with about 10 minutes to get to the clinic left, I was only just now in the middle of town, and I still had a hill to walk up that looked to me to be mount olympus in my condition. So, stubbornly, I tried going up it, and about 100 steps into this process I had to turn back around and go to the taxi rank. While out of my way, it would get me faster to the clinic than I was able to. I had to admit defeat at this point because I didn't want to be late, and I was in a lot of pain, besides I now added a headache to my bad day due to my still screaming child. She really hates water of any sort.

Upon reaching the clinic, my child remained fussy no matter what I did, but I was able to get in to see the doctor and that went fairly smoothly. I got my order for prescription medication I was out of, and I was able to sneak in a quick check of my daughter who had still been sick from a viral infection a few weeks back. We had also just found out my mother-in-law had bronchitis and I was hoping she hadn't passed it along to my child. Anyways, everything checked out, and I feel horrible for that poor doctor as she was such a sweet young woman and I must have seem like the most mean spirited person ever. I just wasn't my normal smiley cheerful self.

Since these contractions at this point resembled real ones, and not braxton-hicks, I decided to head over to the hospital to ask advice of the midwife since it's right next door to where I was anyway. After picking up my prescription, which they told me they didn't have enough in stock of, so they would have to have me come pick it up again tomorrow (WHAT? Another trip to the other side of town in my condition?! UGH!), I headed out even more peeved at my luck today. Upon reaching the maternity ward, they were dealing with the very end of a delivery, and another woman who was in active labor came up behind me as I rang the bell. I just wondered at this point, if the day could get any worse. I really had no idea.

The charge nurse answered, and I squeezed in their tiny office, with a now complacant daughter because she had fallen asleep, thankfully, and told them my situation. Only to be told that I had to wait until the midwife could see me. So after much thumb-twiddling, I was then told I couldn't be seen by the midwife, from the midwife herself because I was only 35 weeks along and they didn't do checks or anything for anyone less than 37 weeks and that I would need to go to Bath in order to make sure I wasn't going into labor, or there wasn't any problems with the baby. Unfortunatly, since I wasn't in active labor, they wouldn't be able to provide an ambulance for me as well. This wasn't even taking into account the fact I have another child to care for and see she gets to the hospital with me!

I Really Needed A Brick Wall to Bang My Head Against Right Then.

Or maybe I could have just screamed bloody murder. But I handle stress well, and I went into action instead of melt-down. I had little choice really but to pull my husband out of work, yet again, for the third time this year to get arrangements for me to go to the hospital. You have to remember I mentioned my mother-in-law with bronchitis. She was going to be useless. And my father-in-law? Well he was on a honeymoon with his soon-to-be wife, in Morroco for another week and a half. I was going to get little help from my husband's family. I called up Alex and told him I'd meet him at home, then I shelled out for another taxi to take me home, promising the midwife that I would go to bath as soon as I possibly could. After reaching home, I just wanted to lay down and sleep, because I was so tired, but my daughter wouldn't go back to sleep and still hadn't eaten anything since 8am, and it was now almost 1pm. At least I didn't have to walk across town to home! I got on my knees at this point just to pray because I really needed to feel calmer about all this. The thought of going to bath when I had been up there and admitted just last month, was the most detestable thing ever. It's not that I wasn't concerned about the health of my child, it was more like, I just hate being away from my family and home.

I really relish my job, my husband, my child, so disrupting that schedule is really hard for me. And as I said my husband had to leave work early to come get me, I couldnt be making him look good at the work place. I was feeling guilty, in pain, hungry and really tired- not to mention wet still. Things seemed to be looking up however with my husband home an hour later, because I was able to unload what had happened so far to him, and try and work out a game plan from here. We couldn't reasonably take Natasha up with us, and yet, Alex wanted to stay with me incase I had the baby, so he couldnt stay to watch natasha. We called upon the lovely people in our church to help, and while they were able to help watch natasha, getting up to Bath was still proving similar to walking to the moon. In the end, we asked our friend from the Military of Defense if he could take off work early to take us up to bath. He wasn't too happy about this, but he was our very last option, and is practically like family to Alex and myself.

Geoff, the surrogate uncle to alex, came to our rescue and we all, including Natasha, went up to bath. I got admitted, and put on moniter, and really calmed down a lot knowing at this point whatever happened, it would be okay. It was not a little past 4 pm, and I was really exhausted. Stress had started to take it's toll, and I just wanted to know if I was having this baby now, or in two weeks from now just to get it over and done with! They consulted with my doctor and decided to just let me labor if it happened since my contractions were regular and see where it went.

After a few hours, my husband went home, and got all the arrangements with natasha figured out, he then continued my efforts of getting the house ready, while I just played the waiting game to see if my contractions got worse/more regular. I did find out I was 35wk 5days along, so if the baby did come it wouldn't be as bad as just turning my 34th week. I stayed in that ward all night long, my husband coming to up to visit around 8-9pm. I had the longest night of my life as well, as at 10 they told me I was exactly 1 cm dialated, and my contractions were getting worse. So it looked as if by morning I might actually start active labor! I stayed up till 4 am due to the contractions, and passed out sitting up, with my glasses on, from 4-7, having not even moved! If that whole ordeal was not enough, the contractions went away by midmorning and getting checked again only proved that I was no longer dialated at all!

(Note to readers: For those uncomfortable with graphic details of birth or the birthing experience please continue after the next two paragraphs.):



I think personally I still am dialated, as I know from my first pregnancy how hard it is to check me. I don't know why that is, but with my first pregnancy the doctor and nurses both joked about it while making my husband turn beat red, because really, the only way it's hard to check, length wise, is if you've naturally becomes shaped that way. I dont think I need to elaborate more on THAT matter! It's still a running joke between me and my husband BTW. And if a woman doctor 6foot something with VERY large hands has a hard time telling if I'm dialated (and she's done this for YEARS) then a short, very small handed, Indian female doctor is not going to have much success.(besides it was VERY painful to have her check, and I know when someone is getting it right by now I hope! IT IS my body!!)

But I have noticed something in the doctoring profession and that is, it's easier to say "no" with something uncertain, than the doctor admitting they can't do it. The first person who checked me used the proper speculum, I still maintain this indian doctor should have as well. She also tried to convince me not to have breech delivery. She really must have thought I was some sort of dinglebat because she was just so rude, and her oppinion was THE oppinion. I really dislike doctors like that, and wish I could have gotten a second, proper, oppinion on if I was dialated because when I joked "I didn't know you could Un-dialate!" they didnt reply, or laugh, and so I really don't think that's possible. But I will reasearch the matter later.




-------------------------------------------------------------



(For those who skipped the last paragraph, You have not missed much of the story, just my personal oppinion on a few matters concerning how pregnancy works, and is not nessecary to the story! :) Please continue from this point onward):

In the end, I was sent home that evening, my contractions irregular as they were on sunday, and told not to do anything strenuous. Like thats possible with a house to maintain and an 18 month old to look after!! But I am back home now, and I've slept loads this evening, even with contractions, it's easier to do that in your own home than at a hospital. And I am really grateful the NHS exists to moniter me and help me, even if I do take some of the doctors oppinions with a grain of salt. When you see that many different doctors in a day, you tend to have to form your own oppinions based on the fact than what the doctors tell you. For me I just rely on the spirit, and the spirit and body tells me, this baby is getting ready for a normal vaginal birth and I am quite happy to let it! So, I have an appointment on the 29th, and tomorrow I am officially 36 weeks pregnant. On the 29th if the baby hasn't turned head down, then they will try to do it for me, and even if it doesnt i'm still going to try and deliver the baby naturally. I feel very strongly this is the right thing to do for my situation, and in no way would I make this choice with out careful spiritual, and physical confirmation. Being told to trust your instincts is one of the best advice out there. And besides my doctor wants me to try and labor it away, and is really supportive, So hopefully it will all go smooth sailing and no more contractions until the ACTUAL birth.