Penelope's Birth Story, Part 1: It's About Time

I know, I know. I've been promising to post this for almost a year now. So now that I've officially lost my entire readership of nearly 10 people, here I am.

I've felt a compulsion the last few weeks to finally get this off my chest. Not that I haven't told the story before, but because I think I'm finally in a place where I can share it with the blogging world and feel proud of it. But more importantly, I need to write it for Penny. She's turning one next week and what better way to celebrate her life than to tell the story of how she entered the world. And let's be honest, she's really gotten the blog-post-shaft during her first year of life. I think there are maybe 5 photos of her on here. Maybe. Poor little Penelope.

Part 1: It's about time

May 5, 2010: I am 8 days overdue with my first little girl and I am done being pregnant. D.O.N.E. I have experienced this before with Leo who was 10 days overdue, and it's just as miserable as it was the first time. My feet are swollen. My legs are swollen. My hands are swollen. My face is swollen. My ribs feel like they've been beaten and cracked by a kung fu master. My belly is so hard and so tight and so big, I can barely move without feeling like it will tear in two at any moment. And my girly-parts feel as if they will drop to the floor with the rest of my innards with each step I take. Pregnancy is a miraculous condition to be in. Absolutely. But I will tell you right now, it is not a glamorous or a comfortable one.

11:00 am: I go to see my midwife. We discuss my options and since I'm trying to avoid being induced, I opt to have my membranes stripped and tell her I want to take Castor Oil. Castor Oil, she warns me, only works for 50% of women. That's good enough odds for me. Along with the 50% effectiveness of having my membranes stripped, I feel confidant that I will have my baby that day. So we make a plan: I will go home. Get my life in order. Take Castor Oil around 5 pm. Take a nap. Put Leo to bed. Paul will play his 8 pm show at the State Room. Paul will come home. And I will go into labor around midnight. My midwife is on-call that night at the hospital, so it's perfect. The plan is foolproof.

1:00 pm: I'm feeling a little crampy, and not wanting my body to stop whatever it's doing, I decide to help it along and mow the lawn. The only problem is, with the 40 pound ball on the front of my body, I can't seem to start the mower. So I call Paul on his work phone. No answer. Call his cell. No answer. Try the mower again. Still not starting. I need it to start. Call Paul again. He picks up!

Paul: Hey, are you okay??

Me: Yeah, fine. How do you start the mower?

Paul: What?

Me: How do you start the lawn mower? I'm doing everything I usually do but it just won't start.

Paul: You seriously called me 3 times because you can't start the mower? I was in a meeting with a client and I left to answer because I thought you were in labor.

Me: Oh, sorry. No, not yet. I just really want to mow the lawn.

Success. The mower starts and as I begin making a wild maze on our front lawn, my neighbors begin to congregate, asking me if I need some help. Warning me I could go into labor. Yes, people, that's the plan. Don't want any help. I just want this baby to come.

5:00 pm: I decide to take Leo to my neighbor's house to play while I take a nap. With Leo happily at play, I open my bottle of Castor Oil and carefully measure the ounce of thick liquid my midwife directed me to take. I add it to a glass of orange juice and gulp it down, with a little prayer and a lot of hope. I read the label and am a bit disappointed to learn that it could take anywhere from 12 to 24 hours to start working. I cross my fingers and toes and tuck myself into bed. I really hope this works.

Stay tuned for Part 2.

*photo by Jed Wells

(Find Part 2 of Penelope's Birth Story here: Part 2: Mother Knows Best)