When 37 weeks hit, I came to a crossroad.
I desperately ached to meet my daughter, the tiny human who had been cooking for the past nine months, but simultaneously I longed to enjoy the snuggles and undivided attention I could give my 22 month old son while he remained the only child.
My doctor had told me that after months of painful and consistent Braxton-hicks and all sorts of early labor symptoms that baby girl could make her appearance any day, so in my impatience I decided to test out all the old wives tales regarding naturally inducing labor. My research determined that as long as the induction is not medical (and you’re not a fool about it) nothing will work unless your body is ready. Even then, there’s absolutely no guarantee that anything will naturally induce labor–it’s not natural unless your body decides it’s time.
The first method I tried was Clary Sage essential oil, which does have legitimate research surrounding it’s effectiveness (but again, only if your body is ready.) I tried dates and tons of walking, pineapple and exercise and, ahem, *other activities* until finally we arrived at spicy food on the list. Now, most of the food I consume is bathed in chilies and it hardly affects me. My husband considered this a challenge and concoted a sauce out of anything he could find with”habanero” or “ghost pepper” on the label and poured it all over my dinner. It was horrible and I gagged it down but sure enough, within the hour I could time my contractions.
They were coming every three to four minutes and lasting at least 50 seconds, the timing so close that any doctor would advise a person to come in, but bizarrely, there was no pain. After three hours of this continuing, we called our sitter to stay with our son as we began loading our bags into the car.
Intuitively I knew that although my contractions were regular and close, I wasn’t in labor, but I was so desperate to meet my daughter that it didn’t matter; we were on our way to the hospital anyway!
They admitted me into triage, hooked me up to the monitors, and within three minutes the nurse could tell I wasn’t in labor and the contractions I felt were entirely false. Aggh! She informed us I was required to be monitored for at least 20 minutes before we could leave, and it wasn’t long before the twenty minutes elapsed and the nurse returned to notify us she would to talk to the doctor and we could be on our way. As if my daughter knew she would have to wait a little longer to meet her adoring public, she began rolling and leaping and throwing quite a fit.
Only thirty seconds later, the nurse rushed back with a harried look on her face and implored me to turn on my side. It was 2am, I was extremely disappointed that tonight would not be the night (therefore completely missing her sense of urgency), and I began laboriously hefting my ginormous belly over to the other side of the bed, but the nurse had other ideas. She literally reached over me, grabbed my back, and yanked me onto my side. Only then did she inform me our daughter’s heart rate had dropped dangerously and they had no idea what was going on.
Three seconds passed, then six, then ten.
I couldn’t breathe.
All of a sudden, praise Jesus, the line on the heart monitor steadily rose back up and my daughter’s heart started beating normally once more.
Everyone began breathing again and the doctor advised me they would be keeping me. I sighed and lay back in the lumpy triage bed, battling relief that my daughter was safe, disappointment that I couldn’t meet her yet, and frustration that we had driven an hour to the hospital in the middle of the night only to be told my labor was false.
“Give us a few minutes, sweetie, and we’ll admit you into labor and delivery,” a sweet nurse turned to me and smiled.
“Labor and delivery?” I inquired, confused.
“Yes, we’ll be keeping you until you have your baby.”
Until I have my baby??!?
“I…I don’t understand,” I began blabbering. I was only 37 weeks and 6 days along–it could be weeks until my precious one decided to make her appearance. “How long are you planning to wait?”
The nurse glanced over her shoulder and gave me a comforting smile. “We’ll induce you in the morning if you haven’t naturally started labor in the next few hours.” She could likely see the look of protest on my face and stepped closer to gently explain, “When you’re at home we can’t monitor you or the baby. If she has another deceleration and her heart rate doesn’t go back up, you could lose her. We don’t know what caused it and we don’t want to risk it happening again when we can’t do anything to help.”
If you’ve spent any extended amount of time talking to me, you know I am not a fan of medical intervention. Our family doesn’t do pain medication or antibiotics or vaccines or drug store anything. I believe modern medicine has done fantastic things but I also believe it’s created a slew of very serious problems and contributed to generations of sick people.
During my pregnancy I had extensively researched the risks of induction and epidurals and certain interventions during delivery–I did not want interference in what my body could do naturally.
But I also wanted my daughter to be safe, and I knew that if her heart stopped beating for long enough she would die. We had no idea what had caused the (by then multiple) decelerations in heart rate and for that reason it was wiser to stay, even if it meant dealing with an induction.
We gathered up our bags and headed to our room in labor and delivery, my head spinning. How would I manage the pain? I was dead set on a natural birth–I had my crock pot and Lavender oil ready to put hot wash cloths over my belly during contractions, we had requested a jacuzzi room, I had spent ages researching and concocting my labor and delivery essential oil blends to help me progress and manage the discomfort, and I had practiced massage and breathing techniques. I wanted to be free to move and that’s not easy when you’re constantly hooked up to a fetal monitor, a contraction monitor, and an IV drip!
The nurses advised my husband and I to get as much sleep as we could in the following hours as the coming day would be crazy, and within a few minutes my husband was snoring his brains out on the sleeper sofa while I struggled to get comfortable in the rigid, cold bed, the nurse fiddling with my IV and endeavoring to get all the monitors in place. By that time it was 4 in the morning and I was exhausted but for the life of me, my mind would not turn off.
I was going to meet my baby! I was about to go through one of the most painful experiences of my life. The amount of kids in our family would soon double. How could I go about the most natural induction possible? What if I was one of the unfortunate moms who vacated their bowels while pushing?
And with that, I drifted off into oblivion for one entire hour until the doctor came in to declare it was time–they were beginning my induction.
Part 2, the part about the actual labor and delivery, coming soon!
Part 1: My secret pregnancy
Part 2: Too much spicy food and an unwanted induction: my daughter’s birth story part 1
Part 2 1/2: “Are you sure you don’t want a mirror?”: my daughter’s birth story part 2
Part 3: Postpartum, coming soon!