I was originally due on April 2, 2007 and had Aidan’s birth all planned out in my head. It was going to be a Hypnobirth, and he would for sure be early because I was so huge! Everyone thought I was crazy for the Hypnobirth part, but they totally agreed on the early part (which I guess means that they agreed I looked ready to pop).
About two weeks before he was due, I was already at 4 cm, and the doctors and everyone said any day now … but then April 2 came and went. Gosh, there were so many days that I didn’t want him to come (April Fools’, Friday the 13th, Hitler’s birthday). I could feel my master plan slipping away already.
On April 9, the doctor said Aidan had enough fluid, but we’d have to consider that I may need to get induced on April 16 if he didn’t arrive any sooner. I was advised to crawl around on all fours (to get baby into position), make out a ton with hubby (forget the romance) and drink red raspberry tea. Oh, and try to relax. Which may have been possible if my in-laws didn’t decide to come and “surprise” me on April 13 (and stay the weekend). As if I wasn’t already freaked out enough that my lovely natural birth plan was soon to be wrought with Pitocin.
Well, Monday the 16th came and no baby, so Rick and I headed over to the hospital armed with our iPod stereo, a comfy pillow and a little bag of who knows what else. I was never so relieved as when I saw my doula waiting there for me with a big smile. It was all going to still be OK.
6 a.m.: Check-in, paperwork, etc.
9 a.m.: They start the drip. The doc comes in and checks; I’m still at 4 cm. Doctor says, “Wow! We may have a baby by noon!” They break my water.
Noon: Still at 4 cm. They up the drip.
Periodic checking: Still at 4 cm. I haven’t dilated any further since mid-March! Not even the Pitocin helps!
6 p.m.: Still at 4 cm. The doctor says that there is a risk of infection if the baby isn’t delivered within 12 hours of them breaking my water. I only have 3 hours to go, and I haven’t budged. They’ll have to do a C-section if there is no more progress. My options: Either get the epidural and see if it helps my body dilate, or wait three hours, see if I need a C-section and get the epidural then. I start crying. My master plan has disappeared. I remind myself that it’s not about me. I agree to the epidural provided it is only one dose and that I’ll be able to feel when it’s time to push. Epidural goes in … holy Moses! What bliss! What a difference! Whereas before I couldn’t stand to see anyone who came to the hospital waiting for Aidan to arrive, I was a whole new person now, and there was a party going on in my room. I look at the monitor and see that I am going through a contraction. It makes me kind of sad. Rick’s job had previously been to coach me through each peak, and now I didn’t even know it was there. I turned my attention back to the conversation in the room.
8 p.m.: 8 cm! We are moving along! The doctor sends the C-section team home!
9 p.m.: 10 cm! We are ready to go! Push, push, push … Believe me, I still remember what the ring of fire is. Yikes.
11:10 p.m.: Aidan is born. Although I need an episiotomy and plastic surgery repair afterward (my doctor told Rick he’d thank her for making me a virgin again), this is by far the happiest moment of my life. 21 inches long. 8 pounds, 13 ounces. My beautiful little man.
Aidan was born on the day of the Virginia Tech shootings, which makes me sometimes marvel at how something so terrible can be associated with something so wonderful. It’s my own little reality check. I was so worried about having the story that I forgot that whatever happened would end up being my story.
*Names have been changed in this story at the request of the parents, who choose to remain anonymous. The photo above is a stock image.