Test Run

So last night I arrived home from school after a long day, and was met at the door by an eager husband asking, "Are you having contractions?" It's kind of like, "Hi, honey, how was your day," once you reach the ninth month. But Dave wanted to know for another reason: before I left for school that morning, I had picked up around the house even though I am not supposed to be doing things like that. And "nesting," as it's called, is often a sign of labor.

I wasn't having contractions, but I did realize that I had only felt the baby kick once all day. And the day before - nothing, really. Now that the baby is bigger, the kicks have turned more into rumblings and shoves and beach waves rather than the little tickle under the ribs. I hadn't felt any of that in two days. Hmm. And I had been instructed to report this info to the doctor.

It was around 6pm, and I called the doctor office answering service to report this news. I also suspected that I might be leaking amniotic fluid, but, as you know, this is the first time we've done any of this, and sometimes I really have no idea what's going on. In early March I thought I had a bladder infection, which turned out to be the baby's head pushing on my pelvis. If I could get that wrong... who knows? So to be safe, I called the answering service.

Then Dr. Doan, one of the OBs, called back and yelled at me. "Two days!" she said. "No, you need to call us if you haven't felt the baby for half a day!" Oops. "Why didn't you call us earlier?" she demanded. I told her that I just got home. "Home from where?" she yelled. I told her school, and she sighed loudly and said, "Get to the delivery room NOW."I have to explain that Dr. Doan is a miniature-sized person with a very thick Asian accent. Some people might say that she is abrasive. Dave and I find her hilarious.

Dave and I looked at each other and said, "I guess we're going to the delivery room." But first I fed the cats and went to the bathroom three times and Dave made up a snack bag. We left the huge pile of stuff in our living room, the stuff the hospital insists you bring with you, right where it was. We didn't even take the car seat. Part of this was reasonable: even if I was in labor, they weren't going to keep me. They would tell us to go home and rest and come back when the contractions started and were closer together. And part of this was sheer dumbness.

Dave drove the car, while I sat in the passenger seat and fed him leftover meatloaf from a tupperware. Dave was hungry for dinner. I wasn't feeling much of anything except... sudden cramping. Contractions?

We arrived at the hospital area, and Dave couldn't remember which parking garage we were supposed to park in. Then we took the elevator down to the underground tunnel connecting the garage and the hospital, and Dave couldn't remember which elevator to get on. If I hadn't been there to steer him around, he would have wound up in the ICU, I believe.

We got into the labor and delivery room, I put on my snazzy hospital gown, and Dave ate the rest of the meatloaf. We were very calm. The staff kept commenting on how busy the labor and delivery floor was that evening, but we couldn't hear any sounds. Then the nurse hooked me and baby up to a monitor, checking baby's heart rate and my contractions, and suddenly, as if baby had just arrived home from a vacation to Bermuda, baby went nuts! Kicking and turning all over the place. So after two days of quiet, the minute we arrived at the hospital, baby became the center of attention. I felt a little sheepish.

We were fine. They let us go home. It was the fastest hospital visit ever. As we walked through the underground tunnel, we saw Dr. Doan, arriving to deliver someone else's baby. She saw us and said, "Two days! No, no, no!" Then she swatted me with a file she was carrying.

Dave, thinking back on our three hours of fun last night, said that the best part was how calm we were. For me, it was getting swatted by my doctor. Today we have a regularly scheduled appointment at the doctor's office, where I expect they will counsel us on the signs of labor and delivery, and give me a stern talking to for not going to the hospital sooner. But again, we're first timers. How do I know what I'm doing?