Timelines

It's a little bit ironic that this is my 300th post. A big, fat round number to accompany a post that forever changed our lives and the dynamic of our family. The birth of our second daughter.


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At my 35th week OB appointment, my favorite doctor said it was too early to schedule Clare's induction, but suggested I start taking Primrose Oil vitamins to help speed up the process. Okey-doke doc.

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During the start of my 36th week, Matt came home with the Pimp-Daddy-Caddy. That weekend the three of us went out to dinner. Matt ordered margaritas and I prayed to God that my belly would de-wedge from the booth we sat in. Given my alcohol free state, I drove home. At a stoplight I was tentative on the gas. Matt chided me and told me not to underestimate the power of the Caddy. She may be 16 years old, but could shotgun from a red light like nobody's business.

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At my 37th week OB appointment, the same doctor rubbed her hands together eagerly and declared she was going to make the phone call and get my induction time slot scheduled. She came back minutes later and declared Sunday, April 25 my arrival time and I should have a baby in hand by the 26th.

She also decreed that she wasn't going to bother checking my cervix because she was sure 'I was still hard as a rock' and there was no need to put me though such an unpleasant exam unnecessarily. When I reminded her that I had been taking the Primrose Oil pills she suggested, she complemented herself on being smart enough to suggest them, but still said an exam was not needed.

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At 37 weeks and 6 days, the night before I was scheduled for the induction I was awoken from my sleep with contractions. I sat downstairs from 1 - 3:30 am counting them. They ranged from 7 minutes apart to 21 minutes apart. Finally I convinced myself to go back to sleep, that no even if they were more than just crazy Braxton Hicks, they weren't regular enough to do anything about right now anyway.

After a few more hours of sleep, I woke feeling as if nothing had happened in the wee morning hours.

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I was scheduled to be at the hospital at 6:30 pm on Sunday. Around 5 pm my stomach started to hurt. A little after 6 pm, while in the car on the way to the hospital I started having contractions. Not the 'oh my God I can't breathe kind of ones' they say are the true indicators of labor, but still definitely there. I went from nothing to 7 minutes part.

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At 6:25 pm, as we sat at one of the last stoplights standing in our way between us and the hospital, Matt decided to demonstrate the power of the Pimp-Daddy-Caddy as we made the final turn.

My water broke.

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Approximately 7 hours later, and almost exactly 24 hours from what I thought were Braxton Hicks contractions the night before, I held my daughter in my arms without the assistance of pitocin.