We arrived at the hospital with about ten minutes to spare. Mark dropped mom and me off at the front doors and then took Dexter and went to park the car. I was focussed on hitting the gift shop so that I could buy a candy bar. The hope was that the rush of sugar last minute would help the awful headache I had going on. I had only eaten part of a chicken burger and a few fries all day long, and the low blood sugar coupled with the stress of what was going on had given me a banging headache.
I went to the counter with a 3 Musketeers bar, and my mom told the check out girl that I was about to be induced and knew I wouldn’t be able to eat anything for a while. At that second a nurse who was standing nearby spoke up.
“Hey! You’re about to be induced? I’ll be your nurse! I’m just on a break at the moment, but I’m headed up there now. How cool!”
My thought was, Oh damn. She’s my nurse, which means she’ll realise I’m diabetic and give me grief about eating a candy bar.
Sure enough, once Mark and Dexter joined us, and we headed upstairs, one of the first things she did was read my chart and give me grief about bad diabetes management. Woops.
We were set up in room 409 at Celebration Hospital. I was immediately stripped down and put in a hospital gown. Blood was drawn, an IV was inserted, and I was given a nice drip to keep me hydrated. I filled out a ton of paperwork, and various different professionals came in to introduce themselves to me and my family.
Meanwhile, mom, Mark and Dexter had themselves set up in the chairs, and one of the nurses explained how the couch pulls out into a bed so that Dexter could get some sleep when it came time.
My Obstetrician, Dr Kjerulff, came in to wish me luck and to tell me what to expect. I’d get a pessary to get things started, and once I was dilated enough, they’d start me on a pitocin drip. Hopefully that would get things started, and she reckoned I’d have my baby out in the early hours of the morning. She promised she’d be called when things were close, and she’d be there with me to see the safe arrival of my little man.
As I’d been through this all before with Dexter’s birth, I was ready to go, and I wasn’t particularly worried about anything. I felt pretty confident and believed things would be pretty easy.
At 6pm, I was checked out by the nurse and found to be around 2 cm dilated. A pessary was inserted into my cervix, and I was told I needed to stay in bed for at least an hour to let it do its job.
Meanwhile, I spent my time chatting with the nurses and updating my facebook page with all the little things that were happening. I found myself exceptionally hungry, but as I was on a clear liquid diet only, there wasn’t much that sounded appealing. Jello and popsicles were suggested, but it wasn’t until someone mentioned chicken broth that I was enticed. And let me tell you something… when you are that hungry and battling contractions, there is little in this world better than a nice big cup of hot chicken bullion. YUM!
After a while, the contractions had started getting big, but they weren’t TOO painful. I got up to move around a few times (I’d had several liters of water through my IV, so I had to run back and forth to the toilet a LOT), and at some point, I requested a birthing ball so that I could be somewhere OTHER than my (very uncomfortable) bed.
Unfortunately, the birthing ball was quite uncomfortable, and there wasn’t a lot of room to manoeuvre, so I ended up back in bed anyway.
But luckily for me, things were about to get real. As I updated my facebook at 8:51 PM:
“Contractions getting strong and close together. Will have my cervix checked in an hour to see how I’ve progressed and then will either begin pitocin or have my water broken.”
Amazingly, I was looking forward to the pitocin. How very very naive of me…