I am folding laundry and waiting for the phone to ring.
My preceptor has three ladies due right now. She called an hour ago to tell me to make sure I had babysitting lined up, because one of them just had her water break. The mama doesn’t want us to come yet, she’s contracting about every 15 minutes and thinks things will pick up in the evening, but my preceptor suspects that things may move a little faster than that (this is not her first baby and she’s had fairly short labors before.)
So, my babysitter is waiting to hear from me (if I get called before Matt gets home from work in two hours) and I am waiting to hear from the midwife, who is waiting to hear from laboring mama, who is waiting for her contractions to “get serious.”
Can I just tell the blogging world how much I dislike “don’t come yet, I’ll call you when things really get serious.” It just makes me really nervous right now.
I think it has may have something to do with the fact that I have missed TWO out of five births I was supposed to attend in the last four months, because by the time things “really got serious,” enough to call in the midwife, the baby was about to be born.
That was written just before 2:00 p.m. I never got a chance to post it, because the phone rang. And, yes, I missed the birth. The baby was born at 2:23. The midwife made it in time, because she only had a 10 minute drive, but I was 40 minutes away, and had to get my kids taken care of to boot (my neighbor came over to watch them until the sitter got them so that I could leave). Absolutely gorgeous big baby boy (he was overdue), very happy parents, and I got to do a lot of the postpartum stuff.