Induction Ruction What’s Your Function: Part II
By: The Mediocre Mama
Tags: Delivery, Labor, Hospital, Pregnancy, Baby

Dinner went well. We had a prix fix menu composed of all locally sourced ingredients. It was delicious and the night ended relatively early. We Lyfted back to my parents hotel, and from there I walked most of the way home. I walked until the neighborhood got too sketchy for a 10 month, smaller, pregnant lady who forgot her mace, to walk in the dark alone, and then I ordered a Lyft. It was a short ride, but in my hefty state I did not feel I had the capacity to out run any sort of attacker.

That night I barely slept. Unable to sleep in my preferred face down position, due to the chance of a still birth, I really needed to stop reading, I tossed and turned from side to side until I saw the sun rise. I’m sure I closed my eyes for an hour here and there, but it did not feel like it. That morning I promptly got ready. With a terrible feeling deep in my gut, I showered, double checked my “Go bag”, and got dressed. I got to my parents hotel in about 7 minutes, and my mom was standing on the sidewalk waiting. Clearly I’d put the fear of god in her because on time has never really been her thing, and yet here she was. I drove and we chatted, not really about anything because I really couldn’t think straight. I was very nervous. This non-stress test was stressing me the fuck out and even decaf coffee couldn’t hide it. I had a basic idea of what they were going to do, but it wasn’t the what that bothered me. It was the possibility that something could be wrong. That the baby could be stressed. That they could have to induce me. I’m sure from the title of this you know where this is going, but hang on to your hat because it’s still a pretty bumpy ride.

We got to the doctors office and I checked in, asking the nurse at the desk if it was okay that my mother keep me company during the test. It was fine. I don’t think we waited even 5 minutes before they called me back. It was an eight o’clock appointment, the earliest I could get. They walked me back and put me in a bed behind a curtain, pointing my mom to a seat in the corner of the room facing me. They had me pull up my shirt, exposing my not yet popped belly button, something I was very proud of for no reason at all. Then they strapped two monitors to my stomach with ace bandages and attempted to show me what they were monitoring on the screen to my right. I didn’t understand a word the nurse said, all I could hear was my pulse in my ear. I didn’t want to cry, so I didn’t, but I definitely could have. The tears were right behind my eyes feverishly trying to pry their way out.

My mom could feel my nerves. She’s always been good at reading the emotions in a room, I get this from her, but with my emotions she always takes them on and vice versa, so everything is amplified. We were feeding off of each others mounting tension until you could almost hear the scary whispers in our heads. “Everything’s going to be fine,” my mom said. “What did he just say?” I asked. “Who?” said my mom. My heart dropped, right down my small intestine and out my butt hole. “I heard him, the doctor, he said ‘labor and delivery’,” I told her. I was now sweating. Cold beads of sweat grew on my forehead and in between my new pregnant boobs. In walked the nurse. “Okay, so the baby’s heartbeat dipped and your blood pressure is slightly elevated. We’re going to get you over to labor and delivery,” the nurse told us. Oh shit. This is happening. “Can I call my husband?” I asked. “Of course,” she said. “Hey, babe? Everything’s okay, but they’re inducing me,” I told him. “What?! Are you sure everything’s okay?” he asked. “I think so, just get here as quickly and safely as you can. Quickly.” I hoped I’d emphasized that word. I love my mom, she’s my mom, but there was no way in hell she was going to accompany through this induction journey.

Into the room we went. I was not ready. I thought I was ready, but I was not fucking ready. “How can I help?” asked my mom. “Go. As fast as you can, go. They are not going to let me eat once this shit starts, I need food. Find whatever you can.” With that she handed me a biscotti that she’d squirreled away in her purse from the previous nights dinner and then she left. The biscotti was delicious. I’m not sure I even chewed, I just inhaled it. Maybe I was trying to choke on it to avoid labor, I can’t be sure. What had I done? Why had I done it? A baby was gonna come out of me. What. The. Fuck.

My mom got back in time for me to wolf down a parfait with granola and bananas. Right as I took my last bite, a doctor walked in. I sucked the last of the parfait out of my cheeks and slapped a smile on my face. “Let’s talk about induction options,” she said. Noooooooooo. I guess it’s happening. “So, there are three things we do to induce labor,” she told me. “The first is using something called Petocin. This is put into an IV and slowly increased to start and keep contractions going,” she said. “I know about that, that sounds fine. I guess we can do that,” I responded. “Okay, there’s more. I want you to hear all the options before we make a decision,” she told me. We are not making the decision. I am making the decision, lol. “The second is a Foley balloon which is inserted into the cervix.” I cringed. “It is inflated to help dilate the cervix and by the time it deflates and falls out you will be 4 centimeters dilated,” she told me. No, no, no, no, no. “Um, that’s okay. I don’t think I’ll need that,” I said. “Okay. So the third option is a suppository that is placed in the vagina to promote dilation.” She’d finished. These were my options. “I think the Petocin will be fine, let’s just do that,” I replied. “Okay. Well, I’m going to suggest a combination. The balloon and the Petocin seem to work the best in majority of our inductions. I think this is the best choice for you. Since this is your first pregnancy Petocin alone may take a while. This will speed up the process,” she told me. Shit. “No, that’s okay. I think the Petocin will do.” She was not pleased with this response, but she did leave, so I was pretty sure I was going to get away with just the Petocin. This would be the first of many times during this labor that I, was, wrong. Fuck.