I didn’t expect to become pregnant after being diagnosed with PCOS. We never really expected to get pregnant anyway. We were in a “if it happens, it happens” mindset. So it did come as a surprise when I found out that I was pregnant. The pregnancy went pretty good as a whole. Then came the couple weeks before the due date, position was great, no breech, no funny stuff.
Then came week 40. Zip. 3cm dilated. We scheduled an induction as a just in case he decided he wasn’t gonna get out before the eviction date. Then came week 41. Still nothing. Dilation hadn’t changed. A couple days after that, I had a labor scare. Turned out to be nothing.
So, the day after that scare, we got up, got ready, I had all my stuff packed and ready for the hospital. It was induction day. He hadn’t shown up. He hadn’t showed any signs (or so I thought at the time) that he was gonna get things started.
Then, on the drive to the hospital. Woah. Woah. WOAH. Cramp. Big cramp. Did he seriously just wait until the last possible minute to get things started? Oh yes he had.
We arrived at the hospital at about 10am. I had tested positive for B strep, but everything was moving so quickly that they didn’t have time to administer antibiotics. I made it to about 5 dilation when the epidural was administered. Then everything really just seemed to take off from there. He was born around 2:30 that afternoon.
He made a splash, to say the least. And to be completely honest, his behavior mimics his birth. He’s a “to the last minute” person. His milestones have been like that. The last possible minute to walk, to talk, etc. He’s stubborn. He doesn’t like to be pushed, and will quietly push back. Much like his mother. 😉