The walk of shame

Thats what Tyler and I called it as we walked past the nurses station, down the hall, and out the hospital this morning, still pregnant.

I just finished a very long and excessive post that painted a very clear and dim picture of how I'm feeling right now, but at the last minute I decided it was probably for the best not to publish it.

Went to the hospital at 6am after a physical, emotional and mental breakdown brought on by being up all night again with hard and mean contractions. They were fairly consistent at that point, 7 minutes apart, and the Doctors had said to go when I was between 5-10 minutes because of the VBAC. New verdict, everything looks fine, come back if something weird happens or when you are 3-4 minutes apart.

Still 2cm dilated, but now 80% effaced, I was told to go home and call the doctors office tomorrow to set up an appointment for early in the week to 'decide what to do'. Not what I wanted to hear. At 5am this morning I was dreaming of getting an epideral just so I could sleep for more than 6 minutes at a time. I'm beginning to see the upside of things like pitocin and epiderals.

Poor Tyler is trying to decide between supporting his wife and family financially in the future by testing with the Idaho Falls fire department and perhaps getting a job, but being gone until Tuesday night, OR physically and mentally supporting his wife as she goes through her marathon labor. I can see him getting more stressed as the point of no return draws nearer and he must make his choice.

I must admit I feel a bit justified in my self pity at this point, after much research I found that the 'AVERAGE' labor lasts about 12 hours. I know it could be worse, but I'm going on about 37 hours of early labor, nonstop contractions, and thinking at this point being pregnant forever might not be so bad after all, as long as the contractions just stop.

Picture of an unhappy Kristen. This was in Cinque Terra, Italy cirque 2004. Pretty sure I was hungry, wet, and cold.