September 23, 2009

Waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

Today is a day in limbo! I'm relieved that yesterday is over and I'm anxiously awaiting the arrival (the the passing) of tomorrow. Today is a day of waiting and hanging in the balance.

Wednesday the 23rd of last year was a day of waiting. I didn't sleep much the night before in my hospital bed. I rested off and on, but was mostly restless.

By morning I had progressed only to about a centimeter dilated. Sometime through the morning to early afternoon, I progressed to a 4 and got stuck there forever!!! Kinley's head would drop and we would think progress was being made, but the next time I got checked it would have moved back up and out of the birth canal. It was exhausting to deal with the labor mixed with the emotion of knowing that Kinley was already gone. I could have done it for days if I had the hope an excitement of delivering a living, crying, baby!

At some point, my back was in intense pain and I decided to go ahead with the epidural to help me relax and rest. So much for that thought! My epidural didn't really work as it was suppose to, so I was constantly asking for more meds, trying to turn by propping myself up on different, sides, and wincing in pain. The left side of my body was numb, the right side was most definitely not. I was nearing the 24 hour mark, and if I had just been contracting I would have been fine, but the back pain was excruciating!

That's pretty much how I spent the 23rd. I don't remember all of it (by this point, I had also been given several meds to calm my nerves and help me sleep). I was just stuck in waiting and wondering....what would the labor be like? would I break-down when I saw her? would I just want them to take her away? would we want pictures of her? would it peaceful or panicky? is it possible to be a loving and caring Mommy to a baby that was dead? how would I ever leave the hospital without her?

My mind was wondering and questioning, but not panicking. My heart was hurting and broken, but not crying out in agony. My room was somber and quiet. God was in the midst of our darkest hours and we really could feel His peace settling into that hospital room. His peace and presence would be even more tangible by the next morning...