Dramatic 9th Month.

     Throughout my pregnancy, I imagined what my baby's birth would be like a million times.  In my mind, I would probably go a little past my due date (this being my first baby), my water would break, I would labor at home for as long as possible, we would frantically rush to the hospital in the middle of the night, a nurse would put me in a wheelchair and race me to labor and delivery, where I would be checked and pronounced to be dilated at least 8 or 9 centimeters, and, within an hour or two, I would be pushing, when suddenly my perfect baby would make an entrance into the world!  Easy peasy, right? 
     I knew that birth doesn't always go as planned, but I figured I might as well psych myself up for a wonderful experience, rather than worry about the unknown.  I did know that I definitely wanted a few things: A) to begin labor on my own, B) to labor at home, C) as little medical intervention as possible {no medicine}, D) a vaginal birth.  In the end, I only got one of my four wishes, and you know what?  It was still the most amazing experience of my entire life.
     Although I wasn't aware of it, my carefree pregnancy was coming to a crashing halt when I went to my doctor's appointment on August 2.  My blood pressure was high, and my doctor immediately ordered a non-stress test (to see how the baby was handling life in the womb) and blood work (to check for pre-eclampsia).  Although the non-stress test came back showing a perfectly healthy baby, my labs were not so good.  I was admitted to the hospital overnight for a 24 hour urine analysis, and numerous non-stress tests and blood pressure checks.  Finally, after a long 24 hours, I was released to go home--with orders that I was to be on strict bed rest and a low sodium diet for the duration of my pregnancy. 
     Staying in bed, watching television, reading books, and relaxing--sounds wonderful, doesn't it?  Just what every pregnant woman wants?  Perhaps for a day or two....after that, not so much.  For me, bed rest was tough because there was still so much to be done before the baby arrived!  I was home all day, I felt perfectly fine--and I was not allowed to do anything except lay on the couch.  Ugh.  To make matters worse, after 24 hours of bed rest, we endured a huge thunderstorm that knocked out our electricity.  For three whole days.  Now I was on bed rest without air conditioning, without television, without radio, without ice cubes, without lights!  I read four novels in three days, while maintaining a perpetually bad mood.  According to my husband (who was actually allowed to leave the house!) our street was the only one within this half of the city still without power.  Encouraging, right?  By the time our power clicked back on, I cried (thank you, pregnancy hormones...). 

     I spent the next two weeks enjoying the numerous amenities available within my electricity-charged house--suddenly, bed rest wasn't so bad when I could enjoy a DVD and frozen yogurt, all with a side of air conditioning!  My husband spent the time that I was on bed rest, proving what an awesome and amazing husband/daddy he is.  He finished the entire nursery, put together all the rest of the baby gear, unpacked an entire dining room full of post-move boxes, cleaned out the basement, did laundry, and even cooked me suppers!  Despite my frustrations, I truly fell in love with him all over again during those long days.  He understood why I wanted to help, but he insisted that I follow the doctor's orders for the sake of our baby--and myself! 
     During my two weeks of bed rest (which felt like about two months), I did not leave the house--except to go to doctor's appointments, non-stress tests, and for more lab work every three days.  While my hands and arms were black and blue because of my "bad veins", I did become a pro at punching that little button for the non-stress tests.  And, with my doctor threatening a delivery every time I visited, my levels remained steady, and my baby continued to thrive.  I was not getting better, but I was not getting worse either.  I remained on bed rest, under close watch. 
     On Friday, August 13, after an early morning non-stress test, I received a phone call from my doctor.  She told me that she wanted to see me on Monday, and to bring my bags because I would probably not be leaving the hospital until the baby was born.  I was excited, but nervous.  Eric and I spent the weekend making sure that every single thing was ready for the baby--the nursery was finished, laundry was done, carpets were vacuumed, the refrigerator was stocked, and my bag was packed!
     We arrived at the doctor's office on Monday morning, ready for a baby!  After a blood pressure check, my doctor was surprised, and slightly confused, about why it was so low.  She wanted to know what I had been doing, and how my blood pressure could have dropped at this point!  I didn't have any answers, but I was glad to hear the good news!  Despite the sudden drop, my doctor did not want to take any chances--she scheduled me for a labor induction the next morning at 6 am.  While I was glad for one more night at home with my husband, I was a little disappointed that I was, indeed, leaving the hospital with a baby still inside of me!  We arrived home, and spent our last day as "just a couple" relaxing (everything was already done!), and we even had one last ice cream date that night!