Pregnancy Journal 3rd trimester We started childbirth classes when I was 6 months pregnant. The class was given through the hospital, but instructed by an older midwife instead of a nurse. Despite saturating myself with books about childbirth, I was delighted to find that I still had things to learn from the class. The instructor had a fabulous way of sharing information without sounding patronizing or preachy. At the end of each class she had us practice relaxation and breathing exercises, with lights dimmed, soft "new age" music playing on a tape recorder, and her soothing voice leading us along. I was stunned at her ability to make me melt into the floor like a stick of butter in the hot sun. I wished that I could have had her with me during my labor, and began to wonder if I’d made the right decision using a doctor instead of a midwife. Our local hospital, which I chose mostly due to its convenient location, did not have a midwifery program. Several hospitals in the city did, but they were far away and I couldn’t see myself driving on the congested highway not only during labor, but also for all the prenatal appointments. A friend offered to be our doula (labor coach) free of charge. She had completed study at the Seattle Midwifery School for being a labor doula, but needed to attend a number of births as a doula-in-training before receiving full certification. My husband and I discussed the possibility and decided to accept her offer. I knew that my hypochondriac tendencies mixed with my husband’s squeamishness might make my labor more difficult than necessary. I also knew the reality of modern hospitals, with the nurses in and out of the room caring for other patients and the doctor showing up only in time to catch the baby and do perineal repairs. We thought it would be nice having someone there "just for us." We completed the nursery on Labor day weekend, five weeks before my due date. We painted the room light blue, set up a borrowed crib, two sets of drawers with a changing table top, a twin bed, and put the new rocking recliner in the remaining corner. It was a tight arrangement, but very functional and cozy. I planned to get a space heater so that the room would be warmer than our master bedroom, which was usually about 58 degrees in the winter. By 34 weeks I was concerned that my baby hadn’t turned into the optimal head down (vertex) position, so I tried acupuncture and moxibustion to encourage the baby to turn. The "points" were located on my lower legs, and the treatment was essentially painless and lasted 20 minutes. I had two sessions, with lots of fetal activity and some good contractions in the 24 hours following. At my 36 week Doctor appointment the doctor quite roughly felt for the baby’s position, and in my opinion, helped push her from shoulder to head down. I was amazed that she was actually head down and I kept saying, "are you sure?" My husband laughed at my disbelief, and the doctor brought in the ultrasound to show me the image of her rounded little skull down by my pubic bone. By 38 weeks I was nearly 200 pounds. I had gained 40 pounds, yet felt fabulous. I thought for certain that by the last month I would be feeling huge and uncomfortable, with backaches and sore joints, but that wasn’t the case at all. There were some days when I even "forgot" I was pregnant, because I’d adjusted to my new size and didn’t have many discomforts. Constipation and hemorrhoids were never a problem, partly because the season’s bounty of fresh fruits and vegetables kept my fiber intake high. I continued my office job with as much enthusiasm as ever. I had to admit that after all those years of longing for motherhood and generally disliking the 8 to 5 daily grind, this particular job I would miss. It had its stressful moments, but nothing that I couldn’t deal with by taking a deep breath and acknowledging that I was doing my best. Many pregnant women left their jobs by the 38th week, but I couldn’t imagine sitting at home alone waiting and waiting for labor to start. I planned to work until the day I went into labor. The baby’s due date came and went. The baby had dropped to -1 station, but my cervix remained tightly closed, posterior, and barely effaced. I had a non-stress test at 41 weeks to check the baby’s heart rate and placental function, and it was deemed fine. The amniotic fluid index was determined to be "9" from a quick ultrasound, within normal range. Plans were made to induce labor on a Friday, when I would be 41 weeks and 5 days pregnant. Going past 42 weeks greatly increased the risk of placental deterioration, thus making labor more dangerous for the baby, and a cesarean section more likely. I continued working at my office, and would report to the labor & delivery unit at the Hospital at 5:00pm Friday for an intracervical application of Prostaglandin gel. I didn’t like the idea of being induced, but submitting to an induction appealed to me more than an imminent Cesarean. The last work week stretched on forever. The weather was glorious, with blue skies and sunshine each day. In the evening I took long walks, danced to wild music, ate spicy Indian food, and otherwise tried to stimulate labor. By the dinner hour I would have contractions and cervical pain, as well as pain and tingling in the nerves running down my legs. My hips and lower back hurt, and I’d often have a bath before bed to relieve the pressure. Getting to sleep was difficult, with my uterus irritable, and the baby butting her head against my cervix. Each night I was tired, but silently hoping that "this was it" and that the contractions would grow stronger. Instead I’d wake the next morning with a calm uterus and lots of energy to face the new work day. I began to wonder if I’d be pregnant forever… |
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| Big Blooming Belly! |