Monday, January 10, 2011
Cally's Going to be a Big Sister
Cally arrived 11 days past her due date. That waiting game was one of the most miserable mental exercises John and I had been through. The literature says you are "to term" anytime after 37 weeks and there we were well past week 41, twiddling our thumbs, doing everything anyone told us we should try to get the baby out before unnatural means/induction would be attempted (and trying not to have her birthday fall on Christmas day). But she came and she was healthy and happy. So, we just assumed that Babbott (Baby #2), will likely take his/her time, as well.
When John arranged his plan to teach his annual Winter Skills trip in the White Mountains for this week last summer (I'll be 38 weeks on Thursday), neither of us were particularly worried. But, as departure date got closer, I'm not going to lie, I did start to worry. In fact, last night, I grilled him about a) how I could communicate with him if I were to go into labor b)how long it would take him to get home and c) if he would be bummed if he missed the birth of his second child, he looked at me like I was some neurotic pregnant lady.
This is how the conversation went:
"What if I go into labor? How will I get in touch with you?" I asked
"You can call Pinkam Notch and they can radio up to the hut", he answered.
"Do they answer the phone at night? Does the "hut guy" answer the radio during the day? How do they find you if you guys are climbing miles away in a gulley?" I inquired.
"Good questions," he responded.
"And assuming they do find you at the cabin or on a climb, how long will it take for you to get back to Vermont?" I asked.
"Well, if I bring my skis, it'll take me 20 minutes to ski down and then 3 1/2 hours to drive back" he said calmly.
"But what about factoring in the time to get the word, pack up your stuff, etc.?" I asked.
"It's just not going to happen. You aren't going to have this baby early," he stated even more calmly.
So, when I went to my weekly appointment today, the nurse asked if I wanted to have a pelvic exam. During my pregnancy with Cally, folks advised me NOT to have the pelvic exam b/c it doesn't really mean anything. Of course, I had several pelvic exams before Cally was born (because I was late) and each time they told me that I had no dilation of my cervix. This time, however, I asked for an exam and explained our scenario. Upon examining me, the doctor, who had worked at the huts in the White Mountains said, "How important is it that your husband go on this trip? Because you are 3cm dilated and 80% effaced. Your body is ready to give birth and I wouldn't be surprised if you go any day".
At that point, John walked in the door. The doctor explained that some women walk around like this for a week, others give birth really soon, but whatever is the case, this second labor is likely to go a lot faster than the first (it took me 10 hours to get to 4cm with Cally). We all wish we could have crystal ball and could tell exactly when this baby is going to come, but our doctors words of advice were, "John, if you could live with missing the birth of your child, then go. If you couldn't live with it, then you should stay".
After some discussion, we decided that John will teach the class here in Burlington tomorrow and maybe go to Willey's Slide in New Hampshire for the day on Wednesday, but he won't be staying over night in the backcountry. There will be no radio calls, ranger hide and go seek, nor stressed out mothers.
Who knows, it may be another week or more, but you don't get to be there for the birth of your kid a second time. Plus, can you imagine the ammunition this kid would have as a teenager when he's mad at John and he says, "Yeah, but Dad, you weren't even there for my birth!"
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