Monday, June 30, 2008

As I'm sure you've all guessed by now, there is still no sign of Baby Tabler's emergence from my little belly. After a weekend full of no sleep and hundreds of contractions, my exhausted husband and myself were sure that by now we'd be tired for completely different reasons (that we'd have a child in hand). But our little guy apparently likes to play already. I mean, I am all for fun and games, but when we're talking about pushing something out of my body for 12 or more hours, it's not so much a fun game we're dealing with anymore. It's more like HE's the only one laughing and I am some game piece in this cruel idea of fun. 


Anyway, short story long is that on Friday we went to the doctor to have my weekly non-stress test and checkup. Nothing much had changed since the previous week, but I did start to bleed fairly significantly, so to be on the safe side, the Dr. sent me to hospital to be directly admitted for monitoring. That was around 9:30 am. She promised to be by in a few hours to check on me and let me go home. Well, a few hours turned to several, and we didn't leave the hospital until 6:30 that night. What a waste of a day. I did, however, manage to have consistent contractions the entire day, which is why they kept me in the first place...in the event I went into active labor. No such luck and home (or to dinner) we went. I hadn't been allowed to eat all day and so my daily intake consisted of a nectarine for breakfast and a popsicle around 2 pm. You can imagine I was hungry when we left.  We ventured to J. Alexander's for what we thought might be my last meal for a couple days as I continued to have contractions, but ended the night calmly and with no significant events. 

Saturday was much of the same. Contractions all day. Some hours they were consistent, other hours they were quite sporadic. It was beginning to get very old to say the least. Finally at dinner (around 8 pm) they began to get (and stay) consistent at around 8 minutes apart.  My activity level changed, I made sure I was well-hydrated, and still they continued. Over the course of the next six hours they drifted from 8 minutes apart to 4 minutes apart (around 2 am I was wakened by these pains). So I waited to see if they would hang around and finally an hour later I called my doctor and asked what I should do. Off to the hospital we were. Certain this was it. Our big "middle of the night, pouring rain on the way to the hospital, so tired we can't keep our eyes open labor story."  They took me to triage to check my dilation...and nothing. Not one thing had changed since Friday so all those annoying contractions had been in vain. My little man had to be laughing...actually, I'm sure that he was because as I was on the monitor in triage, he got the hiccups, and we all know how to get the hiccups! Seriously.  And not only that, but to make matters worse, the nurse made me feel like a complete idiot for coming in that night...telling me that next time I should wait an hour before calling my doctor. I was like, "HELLO! I waited SIX, thank you very much!" She didn't make my 3 am wake up call any more exciting.

We trudged home at 5 am and headed back to the bed for any amount of sleep we could hope to muster. As darkness turned to light, we fell asleep and stayed there for a good 6 hours. Sunday, the contractions all but disappeared. I maybe had five the whole day. I was pretty frustrated with this whole "not knowing what the heck is going on with my body" thing. After spending a frustrating day at the pool, I finally realized I just have to let it go and  let God do His thing with both my body and the little one inside. He has the perfect time all planned out and ready for him to make his grand debut, and I just have to be patient. And I am. But when you spend two full days hanging out in this "he's coming, no he's not" phase, it's just a little easier said than done. After I was able to kind of get a hold of my emotional hormone cocktail and relax a bit on Sunday, I felt much better.  Sunday moved to Monday, and much more of the same...no action, Jackson. 

We'll find out more tomorrow at the Dr., but my guess is no changes...still waiting. But if he hasn't grown much, or I am still losing fluid, we'll have to do something to help him out sooner rather than later. I'm due in 8 days, our lovely 3-year anniversary.  I just hope we don't end up hanging out in the hospital to celebrate. Not that it would be a bad way to celebrate, but you know, it's just one of those things. Again, another way of seeing our little boy's sense of humor already. It's such an odd time to be due, with Fourth of July looming over us in just a few days and our anniversary right around the corner, it appears we'll be spending at least one of the two in the hospital either pushing or recovering. Well, not so much WE as in ME. In the meantime, we'll just keep waiting. 

1 Comment:

  1. Randy said...
    Nice post! Your mother and I are waiting, too. We await your phone call. I finished the fourth of July work tonight, and we will clean up early (7am) tomorrow. Then I head for the house and wait for your little guy to make his call! Love you!

Post a Comment