The day before Avery was born, I went to the doctor and had my membranes stripped in hopes that she would be more ready to come the following Tuesday, when I was scheduled for an induction. Before we left the office, the doctor said there was a 50% chance I'd go into labor within 24 hours. We went home expecting to be back later that night.
Our hospital bags were packed and we walked around the neighborhood in ridiculous heat. I got many mosquito bites and cursed myself for walking outside before the sun went down. We played cards and I beat Kyle (again). We drove to the gas station and ate ice cream cones in the parking lot. We drove to the lake and watched the giant moon rise over the water.
I did not have any contractions.
I did not go into labor.
24 hours passed and we were still home, waiting to time contractions to every 5 minutes. Still, nothing happened. My parents had planned to come Tuesday for the induction but we were bored and tired of entertaining each other so we asked if they'd come down Saturday night instead. We spent hours in the morning heat walking around the farmer's market eating burritos hoping one or the other would get something going.
Just before 7:00 PM, I was changing my clothes for dinner when I thought for sure my water broke. I mean, I knew it wasn't unusual for someone 9 months pregnant to randomly pee their pants but this just seemed different. Only it wasn't very much, it didn't last long and nothing seemed to come of it. I chalked it up to incontinence and we went to dinner with my parents an hour later.
So here's a question: What do you eat when you want to go into labor? My answer to you is a Tommy's Burger hot dog loaded with sauerkraut, onions and chili (aka the Power Dog). That way, if you are inclined to vomit because of the pain, it will be that much more exciting. Also drink an entire Cherry Coke even though you have gestational diabetes because you figure this baby is coming sooner rather than later and maybe all that talk about blood sugar is just a joke anyway? (Realize later that this was a bad idea)
An hour after dinner, on our way home via the freeway, I got terribly sick and made an emergency stop at the La Quinta bathroom. That's when the contractions started. (Very romantic, don't you think?)
My parents followed us to the hospital and I started to think that maybe we were arriving a bit premature. I did not want to be sent home again but I figured that would probably happen. But still there was the question of whether or not my water had actually broke earlier in the day.
Kyle and I checked into a delivery room and my parents stayed in the waiting room. Shortly after I got hooked up to the monitors, the contractions started to die down and I thought "Crap. We're going home for sure." They did a quick test to determine if my water had broke. It came back negative. Just to be sure, they did another (supposedly more accurate) test and we waited for the results to come back from the lab while my contractions slowly dissipated into nothing to write home about. I was embarrassed for even coming in to the hospital and started to prepare myself to go home babyless. Again.
The second test came back positive! My water really had broke and I wasn't leaving until we had a baby. I suddenly freaked out a little: a mixture of excitement and elation and relief and terror of the unknown. It was just before 11:00 PM when we were admitted to Labor & Delivery.