On Thursday I went to the Obgyn thoroughly expecting to hear that I was further along in my dilation. After walking my butt off all week and doing everything possible to move things along, I was shocked to hear that nothing had changed since the previous week. I was still sitting at 1cm dilated and about 50-75% effaced. I was crushed. Here I had come bounding into the office expecting to hear good news and instead I was basically being told that all my efforts were for nothing! For several hours afterwards I moped around, swearing that I would give up in my efforts to move things along.
That evening I finally let out a good cry, confessing that I was worried he would be late. The last thing I want is a c-section. But each step that doesn't come naturally just brings us that much closer to needing one. Plus, I couldn't shake the feeling that Andy wasn't coming because he didn't want to be here. "He doesn't want to come out." I moped. "I want him here so badly and yet already he's fighting against me! He's going to hate me and rebel against me his whole life!"
I know. I was being ridiculous. Can I blame it on hormones?
I suppose the reason why I took it like a personal insult is because everyone keeps wording it in a way that makes it sound like it's Andy's choice. "He doesn't want to come yet." "It's up to him when he's ready." "Why doesn't he come out already?" All of it makes it sound like Andy is choosing not to come out. So to hear that I wasn't even a step closer to delivering him, it made me think: "He just doesn't want to be here!" Of course this is ridiculous. At the moment, he's just a wiggly little adorable baby who is acting on instincts alone. He's not consciously choosing to stay in me just to spite me. And as my husband so wonderfully put it: if he is choosing it, it means he needs me to carry him just a little bit longer so he can be ready. As his mother, how can I say no to helping my son if he needs it? So after my emotional freak out, and yet another wonderful change in perspective thanks to my husband, I finally came to my senses and decided to just relax and let Andy and my body do what they need to do.
When I was at the doctors, however, she decide to attempt to help things along by scraping the membranes. For those of you who aren't familiar with this procedure: scraping the membranes is when a doctor will take their finger during a vaginal exam and carefully "scrape" and wiggle it around in order to stimulate the labor process. "Essentially it is an aggressive pelvic exam in which the doctor will feel around just inside a woman's cervix where the membranes ("bag of water") are attached to its rim. By running an examining finger around the inside of your cervix, she can separate the amniotic sac from where it's stuck there. Theoretically, this will allow the bridging molecules that stick the membranes to the inside rim of the cervix to break--all at a molecular level, mind you--and so be released and then converted into prostaglandins, which are powerful stimulants of labor." It was pretty uncomfortable. It basically felt like she was swirling her fingers way up inside my whoowhoo which was a bit painful. Afterwards she warned me that there would be some bleeding, which there was. But it stopped shortly thereafter. I had some more mild cramps for the rest of the day but nothing more.
Reluctantly, in my need to hang on to hope, I still went for a long walk that night in order to help keep things moving along. Other than walks, the doctor recommended having lots of sex to help induce things since sperm has a chemical makeup that is really close to Pitocin, a labor inducing drug. Well, if it's doctor recommended!.....;-)
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