^{Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2}

My mother stood to get a closer look at the monitor. She, too, noticed I was having a contraction, a really long contraction. We both wondered silently if it was a normal response to Cervidil.

Time passed. My eyes began to water. I wasn’t crying from the pain necessarily, I was crying because I was both worn out and really scared. Plus, I still had the residual emotional and physical damage left over from the breakdown I had earlier.

Eventually, a nurse rushed in followed by a doctor. They both muttered something to one another. The nurse put her hand on my belly and looked at the monitor. I asked her what was wrong.

“Sometimes the Cervidil can trigger an intense and constant contraction. It doesn’t happen often.”

“What happens then?” I asked. My mind raced with assumptions.

“If it doesn’t go away, we may have to removed the Cervidil.”

For whatever reason, I immediately thought cesarean. Here was my thought process: Already admitted into the hospital. Already hooked up to an IV. My body was already having issues with being 41 weeks pregnant. If induction failed to work, they would most likely schedule a cesarean. I said nothing about my assumption.

They waited there for a while with their hands on my abdomen, which kept a perfectly painful, solid arc. The doctor was concerned about the baby but he was doing just fine. His heart rate did not rise nor fall. Mine was all over the place. The nurse pressed some buttons and repositioned the fetal monitor. We waited.

I really, really wanted Murray. Tears filled my eyes. I told my mother I hoped Murray was OK. There were some more tears.

A half an hour went by maybe more and the intense contraction subsided. After a few more blood pressure readings and a watchful eye, the nurse left us alone again. It was time to try and get some rest. We were exhausted.

I did my best to sleep that night but it was hard since nurses and doctors kept coming in to check on the the baby and my progress. Each time the door opened it let in all the hallway noises and light filled our room. I was also extremely uncomfortable. The upper right hand side of my body hurt from whatever the baby had been doing to it. (The pain in my upper abdomen started at around week 36 and grew more and more intense as I grew larger. I am still entirely numb in that area. I am told I will eventually get the feeling back but I’m not holding my breath.) I had an IV in and I just couldn’t get warm. My hair was stringy and greasy, and I was so very hungry. My last meal had been at 2 PM the previous day (Monday).

It was roughly 2 AM. I was no longer in constant pain and I was hours away from meeting my son.

^{Part of NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month). I will continue this story every day until it’s finished. Each chapter will live in a section titled The Birth of Emory.}