The Long Wait

I had always intended to continue working as long as I could before your arrival. One afternoon in early April (about 3-4 weeks before your due date, depending on which due date you consider) I noticed some major discharge when I visited the restroom. I didn’t think much about it at the time. Early the following morning around 3 a.m. or so, I woke up with strong cramping and was very uncomfortable. I didn’t think it was labor, but I went ahead and scheduled a visit with the doctor just to make sure everything was fine. It was April 11, the day before your Dad’s birthday.

The doctor shocked your Dad and I when she told us that I was already 2 centimeters dilated. Of course, being the impatient one that I am, I asked her what this meant and when I would go into labor. Based purely on experience, she suggested that it would probably happen in the following 7 to 10 days. Wow! That was the last thing I heard. I promptly returned to work, cleaned up my desk, wrapped up some items, and informed my co-workers that I was taking off to have my baby!

(I can almost hear the crickets chirping at this point, indicating the long, miserable wait that I was in for.)

Yes, some would say that I was a little hasty in my decision to take my leave at that point. Looking back, I feel a little silly that I was so anxious to speed things along. But for some reason, I was just convinced that I would deliver soon. I headed home and set up camp on the living room couch, watching TV and waiting for the tale-tell labor symptoms that I was certain to experience soon.

Hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks. Still no Ca-baby. By the end of April, I was pretty ticked off, mostly because I was bored and anxious. But to be honest, I was really just embarrassed by my rash decision to leave work so soon and the fact that I was using up all my maternity leave before you even arrived. In the meantime, it felt like EVERYBODY around me was having babies while I was still sitting there waiting for mine. By this time, all of the pregnant women we knew, including your Aunt Alli, had their babies and were comfortably resting at home with their precious newborns. I, on the other hand, was stewing.

With every new trip to the doctor, I had progressed little by little. Dr. Promecene understood my frustration and impatience, but she kept telling me to hold on a little longer. During my last visit in April, she told me that if I had not gone into labor by my next appointment (May 3), she would send me to the hospital for an induction. Surely, I thought, I’ll go into labor before then. (Nope.)