Labor

About one o’clock in the morning on December 6, 2003 I began life’s great adventure. I was lying in bed trying desperately to get comfortable. This had become my nightly ritual since I had been on bed rest for the previous three months, as a result of premature labor. I had been trying to find a comfortable spot in the bed for hours. My massive pregnant tummy made it extremely difficult to find a suitable position. Just when I discovered a comfy spot, my enormous stomach pushed on my bladder, threatening an accident. I struggled to get up and on to my feet, feeling the weight of the baby on my back. Shuffling myself to the bathroom, I felt a contraction. This was not anything new or even unusual. I got back into bed, just to start the battle to find that sweet spot. The comfy spot that did not make my body feel as if it was breaking in half, or being squashed or contorted. A sharp, tightening sensation rushed over my stomach again. Another contraction. It came not more than ten minutes after the first. They came with regularity for about an hour and a half before my mother, my sister, and I headed to the hospital.

When we arrived at the hospital the nurses took me back into a private room. They strapped a fetal monitor and a device that reads the strength of the contractions onto my huge tummy. I was to lie there on my aching back in the cold, quiet hospital room and wait for the contractions to be read by the machine. Two hours went by and the contractions had gotten further apart. The nurses examined me and read the contraction sheet. The contractions, although painful, were unproductive. Since I was still about four weeks early, I was sent home. I was instructed to continue the bed rest treatment.

This was the routine for the next six nights. The contractions, though now occurring during the day, were always worse late at night forcing early morning hospital trips. The doctors orders remained the same saying, “ Stay off of your feet, and in bed. Avoid any walking, except to use the restroom.” I was growing extremely tired of the pain that I was experiencing throughout the day and night. I just wished that contractions would become productive. If they were productive, at least the pain would have a specific purpose. There would be the reward of seeing my baby for the first time.