Third Day of Christmas, 2B

So, you may want to skip this entry. That's fine.

Just before noon on the 27th, I went in for (another) non-stress test. And by Non-stress test, that's what I mean. I know it's supposedly referring to the baby, or whatever, but the fact is that you go in and they hook you up to a monitor. While you sit in a recliner. You get to listen to your baby's heartbeat for 15-20 minutes.

You are asked if you want the light off so you can rest. Or would you like a magazine? How about a cup of water?

OK, so a LITTLE bit of guilt about J coming home to watch the kids so I can "go to the doctor." Mwahahaha.

I was having NST's because the doctor thought I was overdue. Which I wasn't--verified by nurses and friends alike after Nutmeg's birth--this baby didn't look at ALL like a postdue baby.

In spite of the fact that she was over 9 1/2 pounds.

When I went in on the 27th, though, I didn't have 15 minutes in the chair. I had maybe 5--enough for a patient nearby to be shuttled off out of earshot--and was then told that my amniotic fluid was very low and we would need to induce. I had been all ready to fight induction based on the post-due thing--I was pretty darn sure my due date was the 28th--but up against low fluid and possible placenta non-function I didn't have much weaponry. I'm just glad now that they THOUGHT I was postdue, so I was being checked on!

I got permission to come home and pick up J, and then go to the hospital.

Totally bizarre. In the past I have either labored at home or had such quick onset of labor that I have been unable to talk/walk/be rational by the time I get to the hospital. So this is the only child for whom I was able to strike a pose on the way to the hospital.



My mom's a labor and delivery nurse, and I am NOT going to be one of those people who gets sent home because they aren't really in labor!

So just walking in, checking in, and having a rational conversation with the nurse was a totally new experience for me.

As was not having a typed-up birth plan. I think our plan for Pixie must have been at least 6 pages long. The birth plans have gotten progressively shorter. This time, the nurse asked if we had a birth plan, and the birth plan was: "Have an epidural." I felt so ashamed in the moment that I wanted to cry. However, I still really wanted one. I'm so glad J was there to keep convincing me that it was OK. This hospital does not have whirlpool tubs, my friends. And I have not taken the hypno-baby classes I need to be able to relax and let the body do its thing. Also, as my mom says, "No one is handing out medals." And I figure, that if they were handing out medals for that, I already have a couple and don't need any more.

Another boon of being induced? Yummy hospital food. I'm not kidding--CA is where it's at.


I only wish you could see how much avocado is piled on that turkey sandwich! So I chowed down. J and I read books. We watched 30 Rock on Netflix. We waited. And waited. I had been pretty disappointed that the doc chose the long, slow, 12-hour-inducer instead of Pitocin. Our kids were being taken care of by friends--I was much more concerned about our friends than about our children--and it looked like it was going to go into the next day.

I was having contractions when we got there, but not real labor.

For a 30 Rock break I started walking the halls. Fast. A good contraction every now and then!

Then, about 9:45, my water broke. Weren't we supposed to check in and see about pitocin around 4 am?!?! The anesthesiologist was called in from his home (no, they don't always have one on the floor). But he got there really fast. My nurse started using phrases (to other people) like, "History of fast labor".

And at 11:13 PM, Nutmeg joined us! Wonder of wonders! And, I got to hear J announce the surprise we'd all been waiting for...

"It's a ---------!"

A girl! A GIRL!! Funny, since we had spent SO. MUCH. TIME over the past few weeks settling on a boys' name. In an instant I was rejoicing in little Nutmeg, and that Pixie would have a sister, and also dealing with the fact that little [insert secret boy name] was not, and never had been. It would have been the same if it had gone the other way--for me, the flip side of the excitement of waiting to be surprised by the baby's sex is that you essentially have both until the moment of revelation, when you find that there's only one, after all. I had foreseen this, though, and wasn't rocked by it--just aware.

Nutmeg is two weeks old today. She's on my lap. And wanting a snack. So, I'll post one more picture and post this blog I started 3 days ago...more soon, I hope!