After my scare at the government hospital, I became a bit nervous. Not because I was 41 weeks. I knew that the baby was fine, but I was worried about what would happen if I didn’t make the government’s arbitrary deadline. My midwife assured me all would be fine. (She did that a lot…)
Two days later, I had a routine appointment at my private doctor’s office. I told her about the situation, and she said, “I was going to ask you if I could give you something to help you along.” She checked to make sure that everything was okay. Again, all was great! The placenta was mature, but not too much. There was plenty of fluid. The baby’s heartbeat was strong. I consented (clearly without thinking much), and she implanted a little pill to help me start my labor. When I asked about the effectiveness of the pill, she said, “It is VERY effective. I have only had 2 patients that it hasn’t worked on. “The doctor told us that it would cause me to go into labor that evening, or Sunday at the latest. Misoprostol works by ripening the cervix. It is also used to cause abortions.
I didn’t know that.
I came home, and began to google search the pill I had just willingly accepted into my body. I became terrified. Check this out:
While misoprostol is used all over the world for the purpose of starting labor, it isn’t recommended by the FDA for that purpose. I accepted an intervention without doing the research to see what it was. I made the choice. I didn’t talk to Victor or my midwife, I just went ahead and let a pill be introduced into my body. A pill that could potentially have disastrous effects.
As tears streamed down my face, I sent a message to Tirsa, the midwife. She said it wasn’t what she would choose to help me along, and that the labor would probably start within hours. I was terrified.
The one thing I believe more than anything is that my body KNOWS what to do! God made us perfectly–and the natural development of the baby is what triggers the labor of the mom. Without waiting for my natural induction, I worried that I was rushing a baby who may not be ready. Victor didn’t support the idea of making something happen either, but he wasn’t with me at the doctor’s office when I had to make a decision. I felt guilty, angry, and more than anything, scared.
I asked my midwife if I could reverse the pill somehow. Or maybe take it out. She said it could potentially be removed if it was whole. I had watched the doctor crush the pill and put it into some gel, so I knew it wasn’t whole. But I was willing to try. So was Victor, so with great care, he attempted to scoop out the crushed up pill from inside my hoo-ha. It was as humiliating as it sounds. There I was, nine months plus, legs spread wide asking my husband to clean out my insides.
We didn’t feel like he had been able to remove anything, so then we prepared for a baby to arrive. We cleaned, washed the sheets, and went through our box of homebirth/new baby necessities. My contractions began, and continued through the night. My midwife reassured me that all would be fine, and encouraged me to get some sleep. Even the next day, Sunday, I was having weak contractions. We stayed home from church thinking that the baby might arrive, but no baby.
My midwife told me, “If the pill hasn’t worked by noon on Sunday, it is out of your system. If your labor starts after that, we can assume that it has started naturally.”
And so, the waiting game continued.