It's Not Like Love

Just a little post to let you know that I'm still having contractions, but things are moving along very slowly. Glacially, really.

We've been sent home from labor and delivery twice now, once at 7am yesterday when I had some bright red bleeding, and the on-call nurse refused to give me medical advice over the phone ("for legal reasons"), so I was advised to come in, "just in case." Then when I got there, of course, the live and in-person nurses all treated me like I was crazy, and sent me home. Ah well. Just another day in the miscarriage survivor lifestyle.

But it was good to have an NST. JW is doing great.

The second time was about 7pm yesterday, when my contractions quite suddenly sped up from about 8 minute intervals to about 2-3 minute intervals. I was also dehydrated, nauseated, and generally miserable after 17 hours of this shit, so we were hoping to get the show on the road.

Another lovely NST. JW still great. Unfortunately, my cervix is still a fucking piker. I was pronounced only 1cm dilated, 50% effaced. How can 17 hours of steady contractions produce so little progress? I swear I could have cried.

They weren't even going to let me see a doctor before discharging me, but I insisted. The idea of going back home and waiting for the pain to get worse (I mean, the contrax couldn't exactly get closer together, could they?) was just intolerable.

So they sent in the doctor and I may have told her that this was not a humane way to practice medicine and if the frank rudeness of that little remark didn't convince her that I was in more pain than she assumed I was, then I don't know what would.

We compromised--I was sent home, but with some phenergan. I was warned that this might slow down the contractions, but fuck, obviously contractions don't work for me. Some women have bodies that contract and then push the baby out. My body obviously just contracts for the pure masochistic pleasure of it.

So anyway, the phenergan helped me get a little food and water down, and also helped me get a little sleep after things slowed back down to 10 minute intervals last night. It's weird sleeping through early labor--you wake up in pain, wait it out, and then drift back to drugged dreamland shortly after. Makes for some strange dreams--or if you have the TV on, as I did, then a very strange experience of narrative.

Anyway, today has been a little better, pain-wise, or a little worse, progress-wise, depending on how you look at it. I just got out of the tub, and have only contracted twice (four times now) while writing this. I've gotten to be rather an expert at relaxing through the damn things, but it's a skill I'd rather not need, frankly. If it stays mild, I think I'll try for another nap.

So, this is hurried, but I wanted to let you know JW isn't here yet, and I am in about the worst mood a person can be in, but I'm trying to remind myself that it has to end sometime. If we actually make it to Wednesday's induction, though, they'd better have that epidural waiting for me in the parking lot. I'm finding absolutely nothing empowering about this whole pain thing. Nothing.

Also, mucous plug? Gross.