My sister is having her baby today. She went in for induction this morning. I had to be induced with both of my late babies, too, so I’m feeling both her figurative and literal pain. Luckily, my sister isn’t late and didn’t have to endure that unique form of psychological torture, but due to some minor complications, they did not want her to go past her due date.
The part that’s killing me is that she’s 400 miles away. I already have plans to go up for a week soon to help with the baby, but the fact that I can’t be there for her right now is driving me crazy. Of course, even if I was there, what would I be doing? Hanging out in the waiting room with my mom and my sister’s mother-in-law? I love them both, but drinking stale coffee from Styrofoam cups and watching bad TV while hoping my brother-in-law comes out with an update? Let’s just say, I’m okay with waiting for the occasional text while enjoying my weekend with my family.
Waiting on this side of things, however, does bring back a lot of memories. Peanut, my first, was 9 days late when I was induced. Our families both made the trip from North Carolina to Atlanta, arriving in the afternoon of the morning I had started my pitocin drip. By the middle of that night, with no real significant progress being made other than the fact that my water managed to break on its own, I was feeling guilty. I honestly felt bad that all those people were waiting and I wasn’t delivering. Talk about added pressure. I was inconveniencing all these people. They must be so irritated with me.
Finally, 30 hours after my pitocin started, I finally delivered my 8 pound, 13 ounce Peanut. Whew. Because my labor had taken so long, most everyone left town before we were even checked out of the hospital.
When it was time to have Pumpkin and the midwife decided we should go the induction route again, I was disappointed to not experience spontaneous labor, but was also able to call my parents to come down to look after Peanut without having to call in plans A, B, C and D of the what if I go into labor at this time or that time or when the moon is in the seventh house and jupiter is on vacation?
The second time around, there wasn’t anyone waiting. The rest of our families stayed in NC and my folks were occupying Peanut for the day. When the baby arrived, we had no one to go tell. It was a relief during the labor process to only have to make a few quick phone calls without having the hubby leave my side to visit a waiting room, but it was a bit of a let down not to have a room full of excited people. We did, however, get to spend a beautiful night just the three of us, moments that I still cherish.
Of course, today, my sister is doing all the hard work. Her latest text indicated that things were heating up, but there is still a ways to go. Me? I’ll just be waiting. Waiting to hear that everything is okay. Waiting to hear the news that my little niece is finally here. Waiting to see pictures and learn this little one’s name.
And I know that my waiting pales in comparison to the waiting my sister is enduring. But the payoff, that inexplicable moment when those strange little limbs that poked and prodded you the last several months from the inside are snug in your arms as you look into your child’s eyes for the first time? Totally worth the wait.