We went in for a doctor’s appointment yesterday (hopefully our last pregnancy appointment). At 39 1/2 weeks I’m measuring in at 38 cm again, and have apparently gained a few pounds. I don’t believe it, though, as I was weighed on a different scale than normal. I had to see a different doctor, Dr. C., who, although she was female, ended up not on the top of my favorite doctors list. Not only was she brusk (is that a word?), but she was so straight and to the point that I immediately didn’t really like her. No time for chitchat, it was all business with this one.
She gave me an exam, and you’d think she was reaching into a pair of jeans to turn them inside out or something. It hurt so bad! I thought women doctors were supposed to be a little more empathetic and gentle, but she just dug right in, leaving me in plenty of pain. She said I was still 50% effaced, but I was now 1 cm dilated, but still posterior. I was in so much shock from her rough exam that I barely heard what she said when I asked what that meant.
She also asked if the baby had been moving as much as normal, and I said that it seemed that the baby’s movements had slowed down a little bit over the last few days. She sent us over to the hospital for a little fetal monitoring, just to make sure everything was OK. When we first got checked in to the hospital (the first time ever for me, but an old habit for Ronny), a nurse (Nurse J.) came and introduced herself and said that they were just cleaning up a room and we’d be ready to go in 5 minutes.
Then, 10 minutes later she came out and said we were going to go to the ‘overflow room’ because someone else needed our room. Fine, this was, for us, no emergency. So she walks us over to a regular old hospital room, one of the ones with two beds, and before we even entered, the moaning coming out of the room made me think someone was in there watching a skin flick on top volume. We peeked in the door, to find six people, all dressed scummy, a couple of them sitting on ‘my’ bed, and a few of them standing akimbo in a circle around a girl in labor. She was moaning and sweating and they all just stood around staring at her like a zoo animal.
My bed was dirty, thanks to these sleazebags (sorry, but I was very irritated), so we were marched back into the hallway to wait a little longer. We witnessed the poor girl being wheeled from the overflow room and into the labor and delivery area, followed by her ponytailed, ripped-jeans and tank top clad babydaddy and a couple of other family members. She did not look happy at all, and we heard her whimpering and moaning until the double doors closed behind her. Then nurse J came back out and said, “well, we got the bed cleaned up and were going to get you back in that room that she just came out of, but then we looked in the bathroom and there was like an inch of water on the floor, so it’ll be a little longer.” Um, ok? Really?
Needless to say, my first impression of the hospital was less than favorable. And the waiting area, which is basically a hallway with a bench along the wall, didn’t make us feel any better. The aforementioned family sat near enough to us that I could smell the stale smoke on their clothing, and they took turns going in and out and in and out of the labor room, and every time the door opened I could hear more grunting and yelling. Sheesh. We did get to look in the nursery, though, so we got to see some of the EIGHT babies that had already been delivered that day. Here’s a pic of Ronny peeking at the newborns:
It was kindof cute to see him checking out the tiny little babies. And he congratulated a brand new daddy on his new daughter…Adorable.
Anyways, a room finally opened up for us. I gowned up, gave a pee sample (which ended up having blood in it thanks to Doctor Roto-Rooter), and lay down on the bed to be hooked up for fetal monitoring. It was pretty cool, actually, and the nurse very patiently explained everything – all of the machines, what all the numbers mean, what the normal range was, etc., etc. and then she left us alone for a half hour of monitoring.
It turned out that little Claude was nothing to worry about. S/he moved every few minutes – it only took 30 minutes to get 10 good kicks measured, and the heartbeat stayed within range the entire time. It was actually pretty fascinating to see the movements in my belly get translated to lines on the computer screen. After a while the nurse came in and almost seemed surprised at just how active the baby had been. She sent us on our way, and told us she hoped she’d see us again in a couple of days.
So it turns out that once again, Mama Nikki worried for no reason. This baby is as healthy as can be! Now, we’re just waiting, waiting, waiting. Ronny’s mom and dad are here, everyone’s keeping their cell phones on them, just waiting for the big call, and Ronny & I are eagerly watching my belly for signs of labor. The Braxton-Hicks contractions have been coming quite frequently over the last 2 or 3 days, but as of yet nothing has been painful.
Hopefully my next post will be from the standpoint of a woman beginning labor, but until then, just keep on waiting and hoping this happens soon. I guess we shouldn’t be impatient; baby’s not even due until tomorrow, but still, come on! Let’s have a baby!