During a regular doctor’s visit, I found I was nearly five cm dilated. If you know anything about giving birth, dilation is based on one to 10 scale — five meaning you’re halfway there. Half way! This news sent me into orbit.
Ted, as always, put my fears into perspective. He wasn’t concerned if the baby came early. I was full-term after all. The only detail that mattered to him was that my labor began during the day instead of the middle of the night. The man likes his sleep.
So here I was, worrying. I tackled my nesting checklist in small doses, doing what I could here and there to put myself at ease. As each week passed, I was surprised that the baby hadn’t yet arrived. And soon my worry was replaced by impatience. What the heck is taking you so long? I’d say to my unborn son. What are your plans?
The day before my due date, I had another checkup. Still no pain. And still no baby, but my typically stoic doctor appeared to be flabbergasted. “In my 34 years of practice,” he said, “I've never had a woman come in at seven centimeters with zero pain.” I asked him if he was kidding. He assured me he wasn’t.
At 11 a.m., I was on my way to Maine Medical Center, giddy with the knowledge that my son would be coming soon. Still it seemed odd that I wasn’t in active labor. I felt as though I was getting away with something. In the birthing room, the nurse asked if I wanted an epidural, and at the time, it seemed unnecessary. Eating lunch was the only order of business on my mind. I ate two ice pops, a turkey club and french fries all while waiting for the baby’s head to drop further.
By 2:30 p.m., the baby was safely in position and the doctor was ready to break my water. The pain, which I was beginning to think I’d bypassed altogether, started, and finally, labor had begun. I concentrated on odd things like the New York Giants past and present rosters to get through the contractions.
I started pushing two hours later. The nurses put Ted in charge of counting as I pushed, and he shouted “one… two… three... seven… four… six… five!” And I thought I was the one who lacked math skills.
Eventually we made it to 10 and little Will Hazard found his way into the world — right on schedule.
Jennifer Hazard lives and writes in Yarmouth. Congratulations to Jen and her husband, Ted, on the new addition to their family.