At 36 weeks I made a post about my “first” experience in false labor, purposefully using the word “first” because I knew that if it was my misfortune to have it once, I was likely to have it at least a few more times before the real thing, especially so early on.
And I did. I went into my 38 week appointment with that being the first (mildly spiteful) comment out of my mouth.
Dr.: Hey, there! How are we doing this time around?
Me: Well, if I weren’t planning on laboring mostly at home, I would have headed into the hospital twice this week.
And to my complete surprise, this actually took him a little off-guard. I expected the routine, oh that’s normal. Nothing to get excited about line that OB doctors always seem to have on hand to crush your dreams. But this time, when he checked me I got an enthusiastic, “Oh, Yeah. Look at that. You’re ready to go.”
He stripped my membranes and told me that I’d lose my bloody show as soon as I got home. Honestly I wasn’t even expecting to get an exam this time around. He said that her head was “right there… way, way down there,” and that I was a good 3 centimeters dilated. When he took out my chart to record my progress he commented that we’ve had “big changes since last week,” and better yet, that he’ll be seeing me in the hospital to have this baby before I make it to my next appointment. SCORE!
At my previous appointment I made sure to ask how likely it was that I’d go past my due date a second time around, since I went into overtime with Matthew and wasn’t looking forward to a repeat experience. And damn it all if I didn’t get a very UN-reassuring answer about how because of hormones in the mother that trigger the onslaught of labor, a mother who has an overdue baby once usually keeps that trend with succeeding pregnancies too. So when I came out of this appointment bearing good news, I could have danced out of that office.
Speaking of dancing, I think what probably helped was throwing my friend’s bachelorette party over the weekend. We ended the night with drinks and dancing at the Chesapeake Inn and even though I couldn’t drink and even though I was enormously round (and accordingly off-balance and uncoordinated), I didn’t let that stop me from making just as much of a fool of myself as everyone else! Most of it was just for the fun, but part of it was also a conscious effort to stimulate some kind of labor progress, too. Needless to say Baby Scarlett got a lot of attention on the dance floor -- (except for the one time Linda had to shoo some guy away from dancing up behind me because he couldn’t see that I was pregnant from behind… By far Spencer’s favorite part to hear about the next day!) The next afternoon I had the hardest contractions yet, beginning at regular 7 minute intervals and lasting clear into the early morning hours of the following Monday before finally tapering off.
So, like the doctor promised, I lost my bloody show as soon as I got home - which, as you can imagine was equally disgusting and exciting - and after sharing the good news with my mom, was surprised that night with a brand new car seat from my parents to replace Matthew’s old hand-me-down. The doctor left me with instructions to stay active so I plan to keep the music nice and loud today while me and Matthew keep ourselves on the move, and maybe I’ll even throw in an extra work-out or two. Wish me luck!
And I did. I went into my 38 week appointment with that being the first (mildly spiteful) comment out of my mouth.
Dr.: Hey, there! How are we doing this time around?
Me: Well, if I weren’t planning on laboring mostly at home, I would have headed into the hospital twice this week.
And to my complete surprise, this actually took him a little off-guard. I expected the routine, oh that’s normal. Nothing to get excited about line that OB doctors always seem to have on hand to crush your dreams. But this time, when he checked me I got an enthusiastic, “Oh, Yeah. Look at that. You’re ready to go.”
He stripped my membranes and told me that I’d lose my bloody show as soon as I got home. Honestly I wasn’t even expecting to get an exam this time around. He said that her head was “right there… way, way down there,” and that I was a good 3 centimeters dilated. When he took out my chart to record my progress he commented that we’ve had “big changes since last week,” and better yet, that he’ll be seeing me in the hospital to have this baby before I make it to my next appointment. SCORE!
At my previous appointment I made sure to ask how likely it was that I’d go past my due date a second time around, since I went into overtime with Matthew and wasn’t looking forward to a repeat experience. And damn it all if I didn’t get a very UN-reassuring answer about how because of hormones in the mother that trigger the onslaught of labor, a mother who has an overdue baby once usually keeps that trend with succeeding pregnancies too. So when I came out of this appointment bearing good news, I could have danced out of that office.
Speaking of dancing, I think what probably helped was throwing my friend’s bachelorette party over the weekend. We ended the night with drinks and dancing at the Chesapeake Inn and even though I couldn’t drink and even though I was enormously round (and accordingly off-balance and uncoordinated), I didn’t let that stop me from making just as much of a fool of myself as everyone else! Most of it was just for the fun, but part of it was also a conscious effort to stimulate some kind of labor progress, too. Needless to say Baby Scarlett got a lot of attention on the dance floor -- (except for the one time Linda had to shoo some guy away from dancing up behind me because he couldn’t see that I was pregnant from behind… By far Spencer’s favorite part to hear about the next day!) The next afternoon I had the hardest contractions yet, beginning at regular 7 minute intervals and lasting clear into the early morning hours of the following Monday before finally tapering off.
So, like the doctor promised, I lost my bloody show as soon as I got home - which, as you can imagine was equally disgusting and exciting - and after sharing the good news with my mom, was surprised that night with a brand new car seat from my parents to replace Matthew’s old hand-me-down. The doctor left me with instructions to stay active so I plan to keep the music nice and loud today while me and Matthew keep ourselves on the move, and maybe I’ll even throw in an extra work-out or two. Wish me luck!
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