After getting my cervix checked on Wed and learning it was at 4, i decided to stop working, thinking the baby would come at any moment. I walked, ate spicy food and squatted trying to get the kid to come out, but had nothing. On fri, i decided to let my friend/midwife strip my membranes. She did, and told me i had 'progressed' to 5 cm dilated. We went home, made the final additions to my bag and waited. I had mild contractions every 5 minutes, but much to my disappointment, nothing more. On sat, we went to a friend's bday party and i started feeling my contractions were stronger. We alerted the troops--my toddler went to a friend's house and we hunkered down at home, waiting for labor to progress. But it didn't. I continued to contract every 5 minutes and my bag of waters continued to be intact. Since we had a "babysitter," we decided to go to our favorite bar and eat and went for a late, winter walk--but still nothing.
By the time i went to bed, i had decided we should just continue with life. Get the toddler back on sunday. Go to my nephew's bday party. Have an ob visit on monday (my actual due date) and continue on. After all, my first daughter was 8 days late. Who is to say this one wouldn't be late too? My inner hippie would not allow an induction and stripping my membranes was as far as a medical intervention i wanted to go. Sunday night my contractions were just strong enough to keep me up all night long. I called my midwife on sunday and she convinced me to go in and get some monitoring and....break my waters. As i said before, my inner-hippie didn't want to do much medical intervention. After being admited (and still dilating at a lazy 5 minute interval), my husband asked the midwife if this is what they'd do in the tribe. You know, the tribe with the midwife and the red tent. My friend assured us that this is what they'd do in that tribe, so that convinced my inner hippie that it was the way to go.
After my bag was broken and i leaked one quatrillion liters of water, my contractions came one on top of another and hard. I was overcome by pain and fear. In one hour, i decided i couldn't take any more and wanted intrathecal fentanyl which covers uterine contraction pain, but not perineal pain (for those really interested). I was dilated to 8 at this point and thought about that self contract i had with myself that if i was dilated to 8 or more, i'd try to go with nothing--but forgot about that contract with the next contraction. The ITF (pain med) took the edge off, but still had to work through the contractions. In one hour, it was time to push. After 29 minutes of that, the baby was placed on my chest and it was all over. I had to look three times before i would believe it was truly a girl. I was convinced i was having a boy.
The stats: 7 pounds 12 oz (one pound bigger than my first!), 10 toes 10 fingers. If you're clever, you'll find her name out there. Postpartum recovery went smoothly. It helps that i used to work where i delivered, so i have many friends to take care of me. She is a master breastfeeder and i'm feeling just fine. I might even feel really good. It's nice to be able to bend over and walk and move without the 40 week aches and pains.
My toddler approves of her little sister and appears to be adjusting well. I have spent some time worrying about how she'll do and how to give her attention and love with the new addition. The first 24 hours home have been smooth although i'm sure all days won't go this way. It helps having my husband home to entertain the toddler. I'm being spoiled--When he's not entertaining the toddler, he's making my lunch and making sure i've had a chance to take a nap.
Everyone is up from their nap--time to go!