The Internet is full of ideas for how to naturally induce labor...
Eat spicy food. Take a walk. There are all kinds of ideas out there, but do you want to know what really works? Consignment Sale shopping. Yes, I am here to tell you that consignment sale shopping induced my labor.
Let's rewind to last Tuesday evening when I headed off to my first consignment sale of the season. I wasn't sure if I would be able to go to any this year, but I decided to go to this one (even though I knew I was dilated to 2 cm. and anything was possible). I had been spending my days cooped up at home, and I was simply dying to get out of the house!
This particular consignment sale is a big sale...held in a big building...a big building that doesn't have air conditioning...Did I mention that the sale is held in a big building that doesn't have air conditioning? Heaven, help us.
Upon entering, I immediately regretted my decision to shop consignment that evening...but I started looking around anyway. I found a few things...a couple of items for my boys, and several cute things for my soon-to-arrive baby girl...and then I saw the check out line. Oh.my.goodness. In the past, I had dealt with long lines at this sale. One year, we didn't return home til after 2 am. Yes, you heard me correctly - but in recent years, it seemed that this sale had gotten their line issues under control. Well, that evening...not so much.
I wasn't sure what to do. Put my cute items back on the racks and head home? Yes, that's probably what I was going to have to do. While I was roaming around contemplating my decision, one of the workers brought me a cold bottled water. I almost kissed him. I have never been more thankful for someone to notice that I was big...and sweaty...and miserable in every way. As I stood and chugged my bottled water, I crossed paths with another worker who I happen to know. In our conversation, she picked up on my panic regarding the l.o.n.g. line and she offered to take me to the front of the line.
Oh, you don't have to do that, I said.
Absolutely, she said.
No, no, no! Don't worry about me! Half the women in here are pregnant, I said.
Not nearly as pregnant as you, she said.
I almost kissed her. I have never been more thankful for someone to notice that I was big...and sweaty...and miserable in every way.
After checking out, I made my way home...and before I went to bed, I sent this dear soul a Facebook message that read: Thank you! You saved my very life tonight.
Two days later, I went to my weekly o.b. checkup - My near death experience at the consignment sale had resulted in my now being 3 cm. (Are you uncomfortable with this centimeter talk? Warning: I'm not done.)
I wasn't feeling great....Getting around was a challenge. My joints were sore. I could hardly bend over. I couldn't lift my kiddos. Cooking dinner was not an option...period. I was done. My daily prayer was God, if baby girl is not ready, please give me patience to wait on your best timing...but if today could be the day she comes, that would be great.
The next day, I decided to hit another consignment sale. Why not?! It was against my better judgment to go...I felt terrible. Terrible. But my friend and I had discussed going, and I really didn't want to miss hanging out with her. So, we met up at the sale...each with a double stroller and a thirty-one tote...and we got our shop on! Thankfully, this sale was held in a building that had air-conditioning...but their line? Well, once again, I was faced with standing in a crazy long line. Fortunately, the line didn't take too terribly long...but I decided that we needed to go to Chick-fil-a so I could recover with a Cookies & Cream milkshake. I had earned it.
The milkshake led to a slight sugar coma...so I made the trek back home and napped while my boys did. As we made our way through the evening, I started to wonder if something more than just 3 cm. was going on. Friends, there's no need to discuss these particular details. Let's just fast forward to my calling the triage nurse...running my symptoms by her...and her suggesting that I drive over to the hospital to be checked just in case...because it was my third time around the baby block.
On our way to the hospital, hubby assured me that it was probably just a false alarm. We had been through false alarms before...so he was convinced that we would be heading back home later that evening. My contractions were intensifying a bit, and as we entered the hospital, he said manly things like You're okay, just walk it off. (Wasn't that sweet?)
After walking it off, we made our way to triage where it was quickly determined that I was 7 CENTIMETERS!! YES, FRIENDS! S.E.V.E.N. Walk it off, he said?!
Do you know what a girl like me hears when the doctor says, You're already seven centimeters!? She hears, You are too late for your epidural. (I knew about all of the preliminary stuff they needed to do before they could actually give it to me.)
Friends, I panicked.
Panicked.
Freaked.
Totally lost it.
Began to cry.
Began to shake...and lose my breath...and quote the Psalms.
Listen, I had been to 8 centimeters without an epidural before, and I was not interested in going down that road [or further] again. Not ever.
You may think I'm a wimp. You may think I'm a terrible mother. You may think I am an embarrassment to women everywhere.
But listen...My birth plan included one thing: An Epidural!
I had no plan B. If there wasn't going to be an epidural, I was going to have to go back home. Having the baby was not going to be an option. I literally could not face it.
My hubby tried to call me down...Getting upset is only going to make things worse, he said. (This was the second time that evening when I almost strangled him.)
There was no calming me down...so I implemented my not-so-subtle plan of telling e.v.e.r.y.o.n.e. who came in my hospital room that I needed the epidural immediately. When will my epidural arrive? How much longer until I receive my epidural? Where's the anesthesiologist? Is he in surgery? Is he on site at the hospital? Can I have his cell phone number? No one would give me a straight answer - including the housekeeping staff who had simply entered my room to deliver additional trash bags and bed sheets.
Finally, the medicine man arrived. I have never been so happy to see anyone in my entire life. I began to clap...and cheer...and squeal in delight! Yes, please stick me in the back with a giant needle! Bring.it.on. I love you, sir. You are my favorite person in the whole wide world. You may be wondering if I really said those things out loud. Yes, yes I did.
It was the most beautiful epidural I have ever had. All three have been good, but this one worked perfectly.
It was a full moon weekend (which I knew because I had been watching the date for 9 months!). The hospital was slammed, and I labored all.the.way.down - waiting on the doctor to be available to come in and deliver our little girl. A nurse popped in the room and said, The doctor says to go ahead and start pushing - She's right down the hall when we're ready for her. I will - once again - spare you the details - but let's just say, no pushing took place.
The nurse immediately yelled for the doctor.
The doctor ran in and yelled to the nurse Get me some gloves before the baby hits the floor.
(Such comforting words that every mother wants to hear.)
And seconds later, I was holding the sweetest little baby girl in the world.
I immediately noticed how tiny she seemed! My first baby was 9 lbs. 6. oz. My second baby was 10 lbs. 4 oz. This little gal entered the world at 7 lbs. 7 oz. We still can't get over the difference! She is actually wearing newborn diapers...and newborn clothes!
Born a couple of weeks before her due date, she has completely stolen our hearts. We are so thankful for a smooth delivery and a healthy baby girl...
...and for epidurals...
...and full moons...
...and consignment sales.
