A Journal of My Thoughts And Reflections About The Birth of My Son, Justus Alan Tieche

The following is an excerpt from a series I'm writing chronicling the birth of Justus, my son. I hope you enjoy it.

Part II: Is Your Cervix Ripe?

At 1:30 p.m. on Friday, March 11th, the hospital called and told Nicole that they were ready for her to come in for her induction. Nicole took a nice long bath, ate lunch, and I leisurely packed the car. Of course, on the inside, my heart was racing because this was it!

I have to admit, however, that my conception of induction was a little bit off. I thought it was a little like giving someone Syrup of Ipecac, that bizarre substance in most emergency kits that you drink if you’ve consumed something poisonous. Anyway, after about 15 minutes, it makes your stomach cramp up and then you puke your guts out. I thought they’d give you something like that, only for your uterus.

I’m not saying this makes any logical medical sense. I’m just telling you what my expectations were. Nicole would be given drugs, she’d go into labor, and by early evening, we’d be parents. So when the nurse midwife came in, we were bouncing with expectation.

Now, a couple of words about the nurse midwife: she was a bit strange. Her name was Roseanna, and she had long straight hair that was white-gray, like a cross between a 70s hippie and Gandalf. And she was one of those people who end the majority of their sentences with the phrase “mmm-kay.” I suppose she thought she was clarifying comprehension, but really it was just annoying.

“Now we’re going to just take a look and see how dilated you are, mmm-kay?”
“After that, we’re going to look at all your options, mmm-kay.”
“But before we make any decisions, we’ll discuss this in great detail, mmm-kay?”

I wanted to say, “Hey lady. It’s OK, not MK.” But I didn’t.

Anyway she told us that they couldn’t just have Nicole go into contractions because her cervix (the opening of the uterus) was too rigid.

“Right now it is like frozen silly putty,” she said, “and if the baby is going to squeeze through, it needs to become more like warm taffy.”

I was unsure how I felt about these comparisons. But I got the picture.

Then came the bizarre medical terminology. The midwife said that they were going to take a piece of gauze that had been “impregnated” with a particular hormone and put that on Nicole’s cervix. First off, I was unaware that gauze could be impregnated. I’ve always thought of gauze as asexual, without sexual organs. Kind of like Big Bird, or Margaret Thatcher or Prince. Guess not. I kept picturing nurses putting two pieces of gauze in a lab, turning down the lights, and playing a little Barry White. “Just do what comes naturally. Just do what comes naturally.”

Anyway, the next bizarre medical term Roseanna used was that she said this hormone was a “cervical ripening agent.” A “ripening” agent. Now, I am familiar with the word “ripe.” I also have heard of a few things that can get ripe. An avocado. Yes. A plum. Yes. But a cervix?

Anyway, they put this piece of gauze with the hormone on my wife’s cervix. Then the midwife said the words that made Nicole and my jaws drop.

“We’ll come back and check on you in 12 hours, and see how things are progressing. Then we can get started.”

Twelve hours?

Twelve hours?

And then we’ll come back and get started? Are you kidding me? I have to tell you, this news was pretty deflating. It’s was like we waiting in the line for a roller coaster, and then, right when we were about to get on, the ride broke down and had to be stopped for repairs.