**UN-PAUSE...The Labor story resumes**

30 weeks

31 weeks

...so I got out of the bath and insisted on a hot water bottle on my back. We had this fuzzy hot water bottle cover that we'd named Bob, which really did not seem funny at the time. Bob was doing his best to cut down on the pain. Meanwhile, I was sure I was in labor. I'd heard that when the pain spread from front to back, it was labor. Yep, it was labor. Jason and I laid in bed together, him applying the hot water bottle to my back, and I kept going through in my mind, "Do we call? Do we go in? What if it's NOT labor?" Keeping in mind...I was 6 days late at this point. How could I not think it was labor?? So we called. I talked to a midwife on the phone and she gaged by my voice and from what I was saying that it probably wasn't time yet for me to come in. This is when masking all your emotions in stressful situations does NOT come in handy (does it ever?). I was bummed. I got off the phone with her sweet Scottish accent and wondered how on earth I was going to manage this pain on 2 paracetamol.

33 Weeks


A few hours later we called back. She told me, "It's up to you...you can come in, or you can stay at home." The decision was up to me...and I made the call, "We're going!" Meanwhile, my Mom must've wondered what on earth was going on . I had been making trips to the bathroom every 15 minutes for a few hours. Thank heaven she peaked her head out of their bedroom and I told her we were going. She asked if she could get me anything to eat. "Eggs?" She asked. Yes. Eggs sounded great. I began to get impatient about the eggs. Impatient about EVERYthing. Everything felt frantic and sped up in my mind, and yet everyone around me seemed to calm. Especially Jason. He sorta began getting his stuff together around the time I had my shoes on and was ready to walk out the door. I suppose it was 3:30am. We contemplated calling the McDonalds, but the thought of waking their entire family up for a ride to the hospital made me even more anxious. We called a taxi and he was there very quickly. "woman in labor" we told them on the phone.


36 weeks


I always pictured it being so funny- joking with a taxi driver, "haha, I'm in labor...can ya speed it up mister?" NOTHING was funny in that moment. Mom, Rod & Jason were in the taxi with me...it was a black taxi so Rod and Mom were sitting facing us. I could tell by the look on their faces that they could see this was serious. I was having violent thoughts of what I'd do if the taxi driver went over one of the hospital parking lot's speed bumps during a contraction. So we walked in the door of Queen Mother's Hospital and for about 30 minutes the pain went away. Oh NO. No no no. A nurse walked me to triage and I was placed in a little room with curtains as walls, and a bed. Jason was allowed to come back with me. The midwife on duty was cranky. I suppose who wouldn't be, working the graveyard shift at 4am on a Saturday? There was a woman in the next little cubicle clearly in labor, and the midwife made a few statements like, "Now THAT woman is in labor." I was kicking myself inside because I was in so much pain, but as I do in stressful situations, I just smiled and asked her something about working at that particular hospital. I hate that I do that. She "checked" me...and to my great, great disappointment- I was dilated to a whopping, 1. A 1. Great. I know what you're thinking, cause it's the same thing I was thinking. "How on earth am I going to endure the pain of the rest of this labor?" She said, "Hmmm...well, you're maybe at a 1. I would suggest you go home and get some rest. I begged, I pleaded. Finally, the brick wall of friendliness came down. "can I please just stay? Just in case? I mean this pain is AWFULLLLL..." I felt like a typical 1st timer. She left without saying anything and came back with 2 more paracetamols and said to Jason, "well, you'll of course have to go home...but she can stay in the maternity ward with the women who have already had their babies to rest, if she wants."

Driving up to Queen Mother's Hospital

Yes, I wanted to. She dropped one of the paracetamols on the floor on our way to the maternity ward. There were tons of post-pardom, exhausted looking women in there. Lots of tiny, beautiful babies. All the beds were seperated by curtains. She placed me in the back bed and I'm not kidding, the sheets were like paper (did I mention this whole experience was free?). I tried to lay down, which at this point was excruciating, and decided no on that. I sat there on the bed and a woman came back and asked if I was ok, "Yes, fine." The eternal grin had come back. DANGIT. Between this and the time I was admitted to the labor ward were undoubtedly the loneliest moments I've ever had. I was on the bedside, in a dark maternity ward, crying. Quietly, alone. I had no clue what to do. I obviously didn't have the guts to speak up. I was supposedly only at a 1, so what was the deal anyway? I finally, FINALLY got the guts to go to the nurse station and ask for some more pain meds. On my way, my water broke. I got to the nurse's desk and said, "Um...yeah...the pain is unbearable and my water just broke..." The lady, I am not kidding...looked at me non-chalantly and said, "Oh hon...they'll be there when they can. They're in a shift-change meeting right now." oh boy. As I waddled back to the bed I could tell I was losing it quickly. I did NOT know what to do. See, if Jason were somehow able to have stayed, I wouldn't have had to be my own advocate.

Then, it's as if daylight and all normal life resumed...after all it was 7.30am on Sunday now, no wonder. A wonderful, friendly, older midwife came back to my area and saw all over my face that I was NOT doing well. With her smile and her great concern, the ball began rolling. Well, I suppose it wasn't up to us- but she could see the ball was rolling. She "checked" me, and noticed that my "water" had baby poo in it. This was urgent in their eyes. She told me I was dilated to a 4, and that they needed to get me upstairs to the labor ward. She scurried around looking for a wheelchair, told a passer-by midwife something about getting me a room, and off I went...into an elevator secured for ONLY women in labor. And there I went...in my own clothes, laboring, up to the labor ward. I was a bit distraught that Jason was not with me but I knew their policy of no men until 9am when a woman was not in labor (why on earth did the timing have to be that I went into harder labor right when they sent him home?). They kept saying they'd called him, left messages. They were sure he was on his way. I heard some conversation about the concern of the maconiam and that they'd start inducing labor to get the baby out. They gave me an iv for this. It was all starting to feel real- I was gonna meet my baby today and still, no husband to be found.