Labor with my second child was different than the first. I was so worried about my son that would be left at home it was hard to concentrate on the new baby. We were having our second boy and I kept worrying that I would go into labor during the day when my husband was at work and didn’t know what would happen to our older son. That was my fear.
But soon we put a plan into action and knew what we would do regardless of when I went into labor. So we were all set. My water had broken with my first son about a week before my due date and he was an 8 pound, 14 ounce baby. When our second son was measuring big, my doctor and I discussed the option of being induced.
I had been through labor before. I did not have a fear of the unknown, but I was very afraid of my baby getting too large and having a hard time coming out. I chose to be induced and my date was set a week prior to my due date. My husband and I were excited. Finally, I could plan what would happen to our older son and there would be no surprises. Hopefully.
So the Saturday that we were scheduled to go to the hospital arrived. We were all packed, with much less stuff to bring than the first time. Grandma arrived to stay with our older child and they had fun things planned. He was only 21 months and had never been away from us overnight. Still, I felt confident he would have too much fun to miss us.
Once at the hospital, it took several hours to get checked into our room. It was about 2:00pm before I was changed into my robe and lying in the hospital bed. There is something very strange about feeling fine but still being in a gown and in a hospital. Since this was my second pregnancy and my first labor had gone so smoothly, I was sure that I would be holding my baby by evening. Everything I had heard told me the second labor progresses much faster than the first. Don’t believe everything that you hear.
The first step to my inducement was to insert a gel that was supposed to “ripen my cervix.” Once inserted, I had to lay flat for at least an hour. It may have been longer than that before the nurses suggested I walk around.
So my husband and I begin to walk, when all of a sudden, my thighs feel wet. YES! MY WATER BROKE AGAIN! I smile as we walk back to my room. As we pass the nurses, I proudly tell my nurse, “My water broke!” She follows us in and gets ready to check me. “Oh,” she says as she checks me “I am sorry. The gel is dripping out. That is what you feel. It’s not your water. You can keep walking around.” Disappointed, we begin to walk the floors of the hospital for the next several hours.
After taking a break from walking and trying the gel again, there is still no progression. It is evening and dark out. My husband takes a break to eat and I wonder why my baby is not here yet. I am starting to feel discouraged. I have a few spread out contractions, that’s it. I am tired of walking but we leave my room again to continue. I now know all the floors by heart and am aware of the rooms where babies are actually being born. Those lucky women. As we pass the nurses station, my nurse tells me her shift will be over soon and someone new may be there when we return.
As we reach the end of the hallway on one the floors, I am crabby, tired, and feeling frustrated. Thinking it will make me feel better, my husband suggests we step through the automatic sliding doors for a little fresh air. As we get outside, we realize that we are in a parking ramp and turn around to walk back in. The door doesn’t open. I panic. “WE CAN’T GET IN???” “Don’t worry. “ He says calmly. “It must open from this side.” But it doesn’t and we see no other way to get out except to walk down and out the ramp into the cold, rainy January night.