So at this point, I was 41 weeks and 4 days. I had reached the government doctor’s deadline. I had accepted a potentially dangerous intervention, thankfully without results. Now I was just waiting. I am lucky that my support system was as amazing as they were! Between my suegra, my husband, and my midwife, I was good to go!
On Monday we decided we would continue to wait. We wouldn’t return to the government hospital, as I had been instructed. And I was okay with that! After all, my body knew what was right, and I had confidence in it.
I had a message from my private doctor asking how things were, and I responded with a quick, “All is well! The pill didn’t work, so I am just waiting!” I didn’t want to tell her too much. She is wonderful, but I felt a bit awkward because I wasn’t having her at the birth. She was my back-up plan incase things didn’t go as well as expected at home, and additionally had been the attendant at Ale’s birth. I didn’t want us to end our relationship with poor terms–I wanted to keep things positive with her.
Then everything changed on Tuesday. That evening I received a message from my same private doctor telling me that she was worried.
“We have to induce labor by Thursday in a hospital with fetal monitoring or a c-section by Friday. I’m worried.” My heart dropped into my stomach. I cried alone for a while, and then began literally walking the floors. Maybe I could convince my body to send me a baby. Finally I woke Victor up, and explained, through tears, the message I had received. He was comforting, and reassured me that the baby wasn’t ready. When she was ready, then she would make her appearance. We decided to go for a walk (at around 2 a.m.) in the neighborhood, and we woke up his mom to let her know that she might need to listen for Ale. Then we took off.
On this walk we came to the conclusion that we needed to just calm down. We made a plan to ignore the doctor’s message, and take a little staycation at a local hotel. The doctor had encouraged me to go to a temazcal, and this hotel has a sauna in the pool area. We came back to the house, and I sent messages to my midwife and my family to let them know they wouldn’t be able to reach me on Wednesday. I was going to shut out the world, relax, and enjoy my last days with Ale as an only child. We would try to ignore the doctor, but would keep in contact with the midwife.
The next morning, I felt a billion times better. I received a message from the midwife assuring (AGAIN) that all was well with the baby. She wasn’t too big. I was healthy. She was healthy. We could wait before trying some interventions to induce her birth. We were going to focus that message, and forget about everything else. We reserved a room at the hotel, packed up Ale, and drove about 2 miles away to relax.We had a great time hanging out at the pool–and remembering our visit there for my birthday before Ale was born. I got in the hot tub that I had avoided the previous trip, went to the sauna twice to relax, and played with my family in the water.
It was amazing. I even had some contractions that came and went–just like all the other times. We went out to grab pizza, snacks, and a giant bottle of water to keep us going until check-out the next day. I took a bath in the first bathtub I’ve been in since summer. Ale fell asleep watching cartoons, Victor began watching the news, and I read a novel on my iPad. It was late, but we were enjoying our stress-free family staycation.
I didn’t even think it was worth mentioning when the contractions started again…