For “go time,” I was rather still. Dr. Al-Malt was returning that day, Saturday, June 1st, from his conference. He had ordered me to receive another round of steroids to give the baby’s lungs an extra boost although I had already had one round at 24 weeks. Two shots had to be given 24 hours apart, and since my water had already broken, I was laid flat in bed and forbidden to move. The baby and I were also put on the monitor 24 hours a day. I was not contracting, so everyone was fine with me just lying there until the steroids could do their work. It was at this point that I began to realize how not fun a hospital can be. My diabetic diet, which I hated, had been down-graded to a liquid diabetic diet. I don’t think there’s a word for the feeling I had about that, but I think the term “beef broth” pretty much sums it up. I got to experience the bed pan for the first time, and I got a sponge bath as well. Enter: humiliation.
It was during this time that I realized I was going to be birthing a baby, very soon. I had not had the opportunity to take birthing classes, seeing how I was already in the hospital at 24 weeks. A few weeks earlier, I had watched a video on C-Sections. After that video I asked if there was a third option. That did not look like fun. Will had been breach my entire pregnancy until Wednesday night of the prior week. The little sweetheart had turned around and put his head in the right spot. I nearly came off the table when I saw on the sonogram that his head was down. He must have seen that C-section video too.
I had been doing all kinds of tricks to try to get him to put his head down. One involved me in the strangest position. I was face down, but on my knees. My arms were flat beside me and basically, I was a big pregnant woman with her butt stuck up in the air. The only place I had to do this was my hospital bed, so if someone walked in the room while I was holding this position (5 min. at a time), it made for an awkward situation. This, or another one of our tricks using a flash light or music, must have worked. I was going to have a vaginal delivery, which everyone seemed to think was best for the baby and which seemed to be better than what I saw on that C-section video.
The actual birthing process was still a mystery to me. I knew I was going to need some help. As soon as my water broke, my mom left Kentucky to be with me. She made it in plenty of time. Adam had not left the hospital since the moment he teleported himself there after hearing my water had broken. He decided to go home on Sunday afternoon at about 5 pm to get a shower and some sleep. At 8:30 or so that night, the nurse came in and said, “Ok, we’re gonna have a baby tonight.” Seven months earlier, when I found out I was pregnant, this was not at all how I pictured delivery. I called Adam and told him to get back to the hospital. Of course, he did. So that night, they wheeled me over to labor and delivery where I was allowed two glorious things, an opportunity to get out of bed and go to the bathroom, and a shower. After two days of lying around doing nothing, we were finally getting somewhere. It felt like the moment of truth.