An Early Labor

Seeing pink and light red on toilet paper, I felt concerned, but not overly worried. At 9 months pregnant, I knew it could be a sign that my mucus plug came out. I’d never experienced that before so I wasn’t sure. So, last Tuesday morning, I called my doctor’s office to reassure myself. Once I got through to Lori, one of my doctor’s nurses, I felt relief. It was what I thought. No worries.

After I got off the phone, I began to wonder if I might start labor soon. Part of me welcomed it, but another hoped otherwise. I had a scheduled c-section a week later on the 9th. Plans had been made with my parents to arrive a couple of days beforehand. They would help with Ginny and Grace as my husband and I welcomed Sweet Pea into the world. That was the plan, at least. If Sweet Pea arrived early, we would have to scramble and arrange for help from a friend.

Sure enough, an hour later, the contractions started. After an hour of them, I called my doctor’s nurse again to ask what I should do. Since giving birth vaginally is not an option for me, I needed a plan of action. That done, I texted my parents, who live in northern Florida, a message letting them know I was in early labor. The original plan had them arriving at our home on Saturday, a few days ahead of the c-section. When they heard I was in early labor, they packed up their minivan and were on the road, headed north, just after lunch.

My labor was inconsistent at best. Not having experienced it before I wasn’t sure what to expect. However, I never imagined that I would experience labor contractions at consistent 10 minute intervals and then suddenly change to every 40 minutes then two hours then back to 30 minutes. They were all over the place.

Finally, on Thursday evening, my contractions were consistently coming every 7 minutes for two hours. We decided to head to the hospital after dinner (and yes, I ate dinner even though I knew I might head to the hospital). At my doctor’s visit that morning, we were told to head the hospital when they were consistently between 5-10 minutes.

Right before we left for the hospital….the second time.

Naturally, the moment we arrived at the hospital, my contractions slowed down for a short while, but it looked like they would move forward with the c-section. The doctor who would perform the surgery was upset that I had eaten dinner since that meant I couldn’t have the surgery until 8 hours after I last ate (per anesthesiology). My contractions fell back into a pattern of every 6 minutes. At 11:30 p.m., the nurse came in to check my progress on doctor’s orders. We learned that I was still only 1 centimeter dilated and 90% effaced, same as I was at my doctor’s, same as I was when I arrived at the hospital. I couldn’t understand how that was possible.

Since I hadn’t progressed and because I wasn’t yet 39 weeks, we were told to go home. There would be no c-section. I felt incredibly frustrated and confused. I had followed doctor’s orders. I was still having contractions. Now when was I supposed to go to the hospital? The nurse told me not to come back until my contractions were every 3-4 minutes.

I tried to sleep once we arrived home, but didn’t do so well. At 4 a.m., my contractions returned, this time every 5 minutes. Feeling too gun-shy to return to the hospital, I waited until my doctor’s office was open. I called my doctor’s office around 8:15 a.m. and spoke to her nurse Michelle. Michelle talked to my doctor then called me back. They said to come into the office and they would hook the baby up to the fetal-monitor and check my progress.

Again, you would think the baby was listening to jinx things. Once the call was made, my four hours of consistent 5-minute-spaced contractions suddenly stopped. What the heck? They returned, but far from consistent once we reached the office. My doctor’s exam revealed that I still hadn’t made any progress. I marveled at how that was even possible after hours and hours of contractions.

I need to be clear on one thing. My doctor and the doctors in her practice do all they can to avoid delivering a baby via c-section before 39 weeks. Studies have been done showing that c-section babies delivered before then (even a day or so beforehand) have a higher incidence of respiratory issues. Since progress wasn’t being made, my doctor thought I might have time to wait.

Anyhow, my doctor discussed a plan of action with my husband and me. If my contractions returned and remained constant at 5-minute intervals, I could call the office again and come in for another check in the afternoon. If my doctor wasn’t available, I would head to the hospital.

The rest of Friday had little going on. My contractions were inconsistent, again.

Sleeping was rougher than usual. I believe I was having mild contractions as I slept, but the need for sleep was great. Then, I felt a huge pull on my belly, big enough to wake me at 2 a.m. After riding that contraction out, I started timing them again. For two hours I timed and watched as they came on strongly every 6-minutes. It was then that I woke Chris and let him know we should go to the hospital. I knew we would have our baby this Saturday morning. My contractions were strong, consistent, and I was 39 weeks. There was no reason they couldn’t deliver, not that I could think of anyway.

We arrived at the hospital and placed in the assessment room by 5 a.m. My contractions continued. Of course, the nurse checked and no progress. (Now I thought, “WTF?”) I needn’t have worried. Plans were put in motion to deliver me around 7:30 a.m. My contractions picked up to every 2-3 minutes by the time I went in for the c-section.

A “selfie” as we waited for Sweet Pea to be born.

After getting prepped for surgery (including my spinal)*, my husband was brought into the operating room for the birth of our little Sweet Pea. It didn’t take long and at 8:15 we heard a baby’s squall from the other side of the curtain. Our baby was healthy and clearly had great lungs!

The nurses measured and cleaned up Sweet Pea as we patiently waited (and as the surgeons sewed me back together). Then, finally, my husband was given our daughter to hold. As we looked at her, we decided on a name. Our list was down to five and I ruled out three of the five right away since I didn’t feel they “fit” her very well. Down to two, we decided to go with Samantha, in part because of what the name means…”God has heard.” I figured it was perfect and perfectly fitting since a year ago we miscarried an angel at 12 weeks.

We are so grateful that God heard our prayers and blessed us with our 8 lb 4 oz bundle of joy, Samantha Rae.