The Waiting Game (A Baby Story : Part 2)

As I was walked back to my office, I saw my husband walking toward me.

"Why aren't you answering your phone?" he asked.

"I left it in my office. I needed to get a towel.  See!" I pointed to my pants that were soaking wet.

We gathered my things and headed to his car.  But before he would let me sit down, he got his work jacket so that I wouldn't get his seat wet. Really?! I gave him the sideeye.

Twenty minutes later, we arrived at the hospital.  We checked in at the front desk. They gave me a "wet pad" for my seat and we walked to the maternity triage waiting room. (This was all too familiar since I had been there two weeks prior.) And there we waited along with a few other pregnant women. One woman looked like she was having serious contractions, but she was waiting there too.  This is not like on TV. I thought when I checked in someone would bring me a wheelchair or something. Boy was I wrong.

So we waited. Finally, about 20 minutes later they called me back for screening. They checked my blood pressure. It was fine. They asked me the usual intake questions. Then they sent me back to the front to complete my admissions paperwork.  Since my water broke, they were going to admit me. I already knew that! So the hubby and I walked to the front picked up another wet pad and waited to be called. We completed the admission paperwork and then they sent us back to the waiting room.  Oh, did you think they were going to send me upstairs? Nope.  Remember the post is entitled, "The Waiting Game".  So we waited.

My mom snuck back to the maternity triage waiting room. (I was only allowed one visitor while downstairs.)  My contractions started to get more intense and closer together. I breathed through them. And we waited. Apparently, everyone was having babies or thought they were having babies. There were no beds. I gushed again... and again.  How much fluid is in there?!  I'm so uncomfortable. I just want to change out of these wet clothes.   At this point, the black jeggings I wore were glistening. That is how wet they were.  About an hour had passed. I was still not admitted. I was LIVID.

They finally called me back to a bed in the triage area where I.....wait for it.... waited for a bed upstairs. The nurse checked me. I was already four centimeters dilated. They hooked me up to the monitors.  My contractions got even more intense.  I made a few work phone calls to touch base with my co-workers.  (I only had a major event with over 4,000 attendees the following week.)  But the phone calls had to stop as my contractions intensified. They hurt more when I laid down so I sat up.  That didn't do the trick so I straddled the bed.  My feet hung under the curtain of the adjacent patient.  My neighbor debated whether they would send her back home. And then she commented, " She is definitely in labor." She was talking about me.

I really wanted an epidural at this point. But I couldn't get one until I went upstairs. And there were no beds. So I waited... in pain.  I know some people feel that natural labor is beautiful.  Well, that's NOT me.  I used to suffer from painful cramps.  The kind of pains that had me screaming, in tears, saying prayers, and one time in an ambulance.  Been there. Done that. I wanted my drugs.  Now.

"I want to go to sit on the toilet." What they say is right. I don't know why, but sitting on a toilet eases contractions.  I hung over my husband as I sat.  Finally, transport arrived. Thank God.