The next day was no better and at some point I went into the hospital to be checked but was told it was not time yet. My contractions were too irregular.
I went home, called my son’s father, gathered my stuff and ate 4 bowls of spaghetti with light sauce before heading back to the hospital. It was around 4pm when I finally got there.
All seemed to be going well. I arrived and was immediately taken into the back. I was hooked to moniters. The midwife said we’d be a while waiting on this boy to arrive. My DH left to get himself something to eat but before he was out of the room good the midwife returned to tell me something was wrong.
My monitors showed that my heart rate was increasing and my baby’s was dropping. We were in too much stress. I wasn’t dilating past 1 and my boy was ready to come out. He was under excessive stress and so was I. A c-section was necessary for a safe arrival.
By this time, I could feel myself floating out of my body and I knew something was wrong. I was scared for my son and I didn’t want to lose him before I even got the chance to hold him. I immediately agreed to the c-section. It was around this time that my then-husband returned, after my Dad tracked him down, banged upon our door to wake him and got him back up to the hospital. His only disagreement was that he didn’t like my surgeon but by this point I just wanted it all over and our baby to be safe and sound.