09 October, 2011

Rumblings and ramblings.

This morning at twenty past three, Himself and I were awoken by a gurgling "hurk, hurk" noise from the foot of the bed. His cat had chosen that opportune moment to sick up in the floor in front of my chest of drawers. Both of us rocketed up out of bed, more out of sheer reflex than a belief that swift movement would change the situation in any way, shape or form. Himself cleaned up the mess (because he loves me, you see), I went to the toilet... again... and we went back to bed.

Twenty minutes later, I was suddenly awake, and not quite sure why. Something was weird, and JB was kicking up a storm (like, making a break for it kind of kicking). I stayed there, taking silent and still stock of my surroundings, and then it hit me. I leapt up out of bed as my waters broke, miraculously leaving the bed dry, and simultaneously scaring seven hells out of Himself. I blurted out "my waters have broken", he tossed me a towel, and I got straight on the phone as previously commanded by Sister One to let her know things were kicking off. She was understandably excited, this is HER baby, after all...

I then rang the midwife triage unit at the hospital to find out the appropriate course of action, and after a barrage of questions (have you had any contractions? what colour are the waters? are you certain it was your waters breaking? is it your first baby?) I was told to come in to be examined. This of course meant I had to... ahem... *mumbling* finish packing my hospital bag... *sheepish grin* Himself was, shall we say, unimpressed with my lack of preparation, especially given the amount of nagging he'd done over the last few weeks to make sure everything was ready should things kick off. We tossed the few bits I hadn't packed yet into the suitcase and headed to the hospital, still making calls to let people know that Madam was on her way.

When we turned up at the triage unit, the nurse took my blood pressure (good, as always) and hooked me up to the foetal monitor. Well, I say hooked me up, she actually tucked the two electrodes into the waistband of my jeans and went to deal with a lady who'd just arrived in what turned out to be a very advanced stage of labour (she had the baby not ten minutes later). When the other nurse came to check on me, she began to use what I can only assume was fairly foul language (I believe it was Chinese) under her breath due to the inexpertly applied electrodes, and swiftly got things sorted out properly to monitor Madam's heart rate (strong, as always) and my contractions. She then took the swab to check for infection and examined me to see how far along things were (not very, just one centimetre dilated) and commented that JB's head is still quite high.

She gave us a sheet of information (signs to look for that would require us to return to the hospital, actions to take during the day) and told us to call around eight pm tonight when we'll likely be asked to come back if things haven't progressed by then. I, of course, am hoping that JB will take the hint and get going on her own as I'd rather not need chemical assistance. So, I'll leave you there and update as the situation warrants. Wish me luck!

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