The nurse comes in and checks Sam's cervix. We started at 1cm last night, and after nearly 8 hours of Pitocin, the nurse announces we're still at 1cm. Well, crap. The nurse leaves, Sam and I close our eyes to steal as much rest as we can.
A few minutes later, the nurse comes back with the doctor. The doctor explains that the next step is to manually "rupture the fetal membranes". She basically describes this procedure as using a pointy stick to poke a hole in there causing the water to break. "If that doesn't work, we'll use a balloon to mechanically open the cervix", she continued.
Mechanically open the cervix. Normal labor and delivery seems like a walk in the park compared to these seemingly medieval torture tactics she's discussing with us.
And then, without delay, the doctor and nurse quickly prepared for the first procedure. I braced myself, knowing it would be painful, and there's nothing I can do.
Thankfully, it was over in a minute or so. I listened as the doctor and nurse tried to determine if the first attempt was successful while Sam lay there with her eyes closed recovering from what had just been done to her. Soon, the doctor proclaims it a success and makes her exit letting us know she'll be back in a few hours to determine if the balloon will be necessary.
Within moments of the doctor leaving, I get a news alert. The Ever Given has been freed and is preparing to make its way out of the Suez Canal. With the events that just occurred, I can't help chuckle at how apt the metaphor is.