Well, this 4th of July wasn’t quite what my husband and I would have imagined. It started off fine, we had thanksgiving dinner (I can’t help what I crave … I just can’t) and by 9:30 I was having contractions 5-7 minutes apart (again).
So we timed them and watched them while I tried every tactic the internet could come up with to see if it was false labor. I tried:
- Changing positions
- Laying down
- Drinking a ton of water
- Firing off illegal fireworks directly at really dry low-hanging trees (ok, that wasn’t me…it was my neighbors)… point being, nothing worked
So after an hour and a half of my contractions getting closer together, we called the dr and unfortunately she told us to go to the hospital. Now, believe me when I say – I didn’t want to…and I asked the dr if we could avoid coming in at all since I didn’t think I was in real labor.
Nope…had to go.
Now, certain areas of Cleveland on the 4th of July – late at night ... lets just say ... you should avoid them. We really saw the cream of the Cleveland crop on our way to the hospital ... and I also learned the difference between guns being fired into the air –vs- fireworks (shortly followed by another life lesson: Martin Luther King drive at night in Cleveland = bad).
So, we get to the hospital and they have no idea where my chart is (shocker). And they finally check us in, after belittling me for coming in for what is most likely false labor or preterm labor…since it’s my first child (every single nurse made sure to say out loud that first time mothers “always make that mistake” followed by a mocking laugh). Apparently the dr telling me to come in wasn’t enough for the RN’s to shut it ... no comment.
My guess is, their nastiness was my instant karma for calling some teenager in the hallway (that wouldn’t get out of my way because he was staring lovingly at a bouncy ball exhibit) an “easily amused monkey.” I know you're thinking it ... i'm a jerk.
So after some unnecessary tests and a lot of poking, prodding, questions and tests…they let us go and told us to call if my contractions continued. Which they did ... and we did not.
My only last comment: if a resident says “we may just let you proceed into labor” and you respond “even if the baby is breech?” and they stare blankly at you ... just leave ... quickly.