Since I like to read other people’s birth stories I feel it is only fair that I also post a birth story. Most people seem to remember the experience better than I do, and some people are smart and write down the details early… but things have gotten busy so here goes.
Our plan was that Michael would be born on the 13th. At every doctor’s appointment I had received the same messages, “baby is not ready to come yet”, “no dilation”, “no effacement”, “this kid is going to have to be induced”, while I wasn’t thrilled with this news at first, by last week I had accepted it and was preparing for the big day. I got things ready for the baby last week. I hired the Molly Maids to come clean our house (okay Brian hired them but I let them in), we went grocery shopping, finished the laundry, and I was finishing up some last minute baby projects- rice packs and a nursing cover. On Wednesday night, Brian and I decided to stay home and hang out, okay this what really happened, someone recommended that we try a new show, we rented it from netflix and it arrived so we watched the whole disc. I wanted to go swimming, but even more than that I didn’t want to get up off the couch hence the unproductive evening. Anyway, by Wednesday night we were almost ready for our company, I made a mental list of everything that needed to get done the next morning before we went to pick up my mom and headed off to bed for what I assumed was going to be another restless evening (I was right). At 6:35am on Thursday, after a fun filled night of hauling my pregnant self to the bathroom a good 5-7 times, I felt a pop, not a bad pop, but definably a new pop. I thought maybe I had a little “accident”. I had heard that pregnant women often wet their pants but hadn’t experienced that joy and assumed that my body was trying to make sure I got to experience all the joys of pregnancy before it ended. I jumped up (which at that point was kinda a miracle) and headed to the bathroom… nothing too dramatic, just a pinkish liquid, which I again assumed was something new, light spotting isn’t uncommon in the last weeks before delivery so why would this be anything other than that? I changed and went back to bed. Somewhere in that state between the dream world and the real world I had a thought, “maybe my water broke”, since there had been no indications that I would ever go into labor (no contractions, no dilation or effacement, etc) I pushed that out of my head and tried to get back to sleep.
I still couldn’t sleep, come on a pop wakes you up a bit, so I got up, took a shower, got ready, ate breakfast, and started on my list for the day. Let me just say I was really productive! No really, I got several loads of laundry folded before Brian got up, made a grocery list, and cleaned some things that were already clean (remember the Molly Maids?). Eventually, I decided I was going to sew some rice packs for the hospital, I started the project, but had the same “leaking issue” that had been persisting all morning, since I was sitting by that point it was noticeably more embarrassing. Around 12:30, after eating lunch (this is important), we decided to head off the store. The leaking had continued, but since it wasn’t too severe I decided to keep it to myself… yeah. So we headed to Sprouts and then to Wal-Mart (yes, that is correct). As we were walking into Wal-Mart, right by redbox I felt a gush…, which was embarrassing, I took another step and another gush (don’t worry there was not water on the floor or anything). At this point I was convinced that I had peed… again. So I handed Brian the list and ran (literally) to the bathroom. Same issue, still leaking or gushing, but still in denial because there were no contractions. I found Brian and told him we had to hurry and get out groceries because I wanted to change my clothes and sheepishly admitted that I may have had an accident. At this point, I was super self conscious, I mean what kind of 25 year old pees on themselves for no reason, and I was super grateful I was wearing a black dress and leggings instead of the jeans I had planned to wear which would have been noticeable soaked at that point. As we were standing in the check out line at the store I casually mentioned to Brian that my water may have broken… he didn’t necessarily believe me, but I insisted that after we finished at the store and put the groceries away that we go to the hospital to get it checked out- worst case scenario, I actually had peed, and we would just go out to dinner before picking up my mom. So we went home, put everything away, grabbed our hospital bag, fed the cat and left. On the way there I felt more and more ridiculous… so much in fact that I refused to call the doctor and talk to her. We arrived at the hospital, I explained my issue to the receptionist and she got a nurse to chat with us, by now it was about 3:15pm. Chatting with a nurse when you think your water might have broken involves a hospital gown, a blood pressure cuff, and explaining to another person, that yes there was a pop, some pinkish fluid, consistent leaking, and even a gush or two. The nurse put a fetal monitor and contraction monitor on me, and saw that yes I was having small contractions (which I couldn’t feel… that went away); she also sent a sample of the lovely fluid to be tested. At that point all we could do was wait. If the test showed that I was “leaking” amniotic fluid I would have to be admitted and deliver within a certain time period, if not, then I had a new fun symptom. While we waited we called a few people to update them on the situation. There was my mom who was flying in and might need another ride, my sister who was flying in the next evening and could potentially miss the birth, and of course my sister in law, Diana, who we had promised to call the minute it looked like Mikey was going to show up. After 20 or so minutes the nurse came back with what she said was a “one way ticket to a night in labor and delivery”. Turns out I hadn’t peed, but that my water had broken… on its’ own. This is where we ran into a problem. Sure my water had broken by the contractions weren’t strong (I didn’t even know I was having them). Since breaking the bag of waters can lead to infection in the baby after a certain amount of time, my “labor” had to be sped up, or better stated- started. When we checked in to the hospital, I was 0% effaced, 0 centimeters, and -3 station… minus the water breaking this guy was not coming out any time soon. After giving us the good news, the nurse gave us time to make some phone calls, had me change again, and found us a labor and delivery room. At some point my OB came by to congratulate me on my pitocin filled evening. As we walked (yes walked) to our room, I kept thinking this is a mistake, maybe the tester didn’t realize that pregnant women pee. We got to our room and they started the IV pitocin. Getting the IV was a bit of an ordeal. Because of the type of catheter the hospital uses I had to get stuck twice. The first time in my hand didn’t turn out too well, blood spurted out, then pooled, this was painful, I was hoping htat labor was a bit less painful than that experience. Surprisingly, almost a week later this spot on my hand still really hurts. Anyway, by 5:30pm, I had IV pitocin and was in for a long night… from what the nurses implied a very very very long and uncomfortable night. At some point after the IV was started, Brian and I watched a show, arranged a new ride for my mom, and ate dinner (well Brian ate dinner, I ate/spilled a red popsicle on myself). . Around 6:30pm the contractions started coming on strong. They didn’t start off soft or slow, they hit like a ton of bricks, one minute I had contractions I couldn’t feel, and the next they were hard and fast. By 8pm my dosage had been upped (again) and I was starting to really “feel” the contractions. This is the point where I realized that my pain tolerance wasn’t where I wanted it to be. I tried to breathe through the contractions, but it was much more difficult that on TV (of course since I was actually in labor). At some point after 7pm my night nurse came in and “checked me”- this was awful, seriously awful, and more painful than any contraction I had to that point. . I was at a 1… babies aren’t born at a 1; she up the dosage on the Pitocin drip and things heated up a bit (an awful lot). I should say that at this point I was still against getting an epidural, or at the very least against getting an epidural in the near future. I had gone through the whole pregnancy with the idea that I would labor as long as possible without the epidural. I had read the books, done the breathing exercises, and prepped my sister about what to do in the even that I asked for an epidural, but after 3 hours of near constant contractions without much progress I was getting a little bit discouraged. We decided to call my sister a little bit after 8, by this point we knew she wouldn’t make it in time to be at the delivery, but we thought we would give her a glimpse of the hospital room and besides we wanted to see her dorm room. The chat was a welcome distraction from the ever-increasing contractions. At some point while we were talking to Em my mom and uncle (her ride) showed up. We all chatted with Em for a bit and then got ready to go to bed. Around 10pm when the Pitocin dosage had been upped yet again I decided that I needed something to take my mind off the pain for a bit- the nurse kindly gave me some type of narcotic (she told me but the room started spinning). I had taken my contacts out right before receiving the medicine (I cant see far), the combination of the medication and the vision “issues” made for some interesting interpretations of the items in the room. Around the time I received the narcotic that did little to mask the pain, but did wonders for taking my mind off of it I decided that I wanted an epidural. I had spent the previous 9 months rejecting the idea of an epidural, but when faced with ever increasing contractions and limited progress my mind changed. Because an epidural tends to slow labor I was ever more wary of it, with how little progress I had made, and how long it had taken to get there I was concerned that pain relief would lead to a c section (it didn’t). I opted for the epidural and it really was a great decision. The nurse anesthetist came in, explained the process, put the catheter in my back and we were good to go. This was a great idea. I don’t remember many details from the rest of this night. I remember waking up at 4am and talking to my poor mother about these muffins that I had wanted to make that night but had not been able to given that I was in labor. I remember being really hot and wishing that I could roll myself not a more comfortable position. Finally around 6am it started to get light. Breakfast arrived at 7am (for the other people), and I got the privilege of another exam, during this exam (and all the others) I began to seriously question why a less invasive method had not been developed for cervical exams… I am still wondering so if you have an answer please let me know. Anyway, this exam was unpleasant, but not as bad as the others… remember how I got an epidural, yeah that helped. Anyway, by this point I was getting antsy, I had been there forever and there was still no baby. I had hoped to have a baby in the middle of the night, obviously that didn’t happen, and I now I was stuck in the stage between pregnancy and motherhood… not a fun place to be even if you know it is temporary. The news at this exam wasn’t great… no progress, still a 3, but the nurse kindly reassured me that it takes the longest amount of time to get from a 0 to a 4 so this was to be expected. I settled in… I figured it would be a few dozen or so hours yet. The time from 7am-9am is a blur, I am sure I talked to some people on the phone, watched a show, looked out the window etc, but mostly I remember watching the clock, thinking that if I watched it long enough this baby would just come out! At 9am my OB arrived, she did her check and said I was at a 5! I was stoked; I mean so much so that if could do a happy jig I would have (I was hooked up to an iv, monitors, and didn’t have complete control of my legs so obviously a jig wasn’t an option). At this point, the nurse recommended I sleep, I thought you have got to be kidding me, but attempted. Around this time my sister and sister in law called- we shared the good news, a 5 was halfway there, a c-section might not be needed! They were pretty thrilled too… at least they acted thrilled so I’m going with that. By this point in time we decided to watch some Pawn Stars (great show on netflix, I recommend it). We had tried to watch it the night before with no epidural and it was just awful, now that I didn’t want to scream (literally) the show was much more enjoyable. After just a little bit I was too tired to concentrate and tried to go to sleep. While I was lying there (thinking how nice it would be to have the ability to turn myself over) I started to feel… like I really needed to use the restroom. I sat there wondering how that would work. Since I had an epidural I also had a catheter, during pregnancy I was very apprehensive about the idea of a both the catheter and epidural, but after trekking to the restroom with my IV and monitors several times (because let’s face it, when you are 9 million months pregnant that is what you do) and having contractions in the restroom a catheter was a fabulous idea (I know more than you needed to know). Anyway since I had gotten the epidural around 12:30am and it was now around 10am I hadn’t had to worry about this issue in a bit. So I sat there wondering first how I was going to bring this up to the nurse, and second what her solution was going to be- I couldn’t imagine that any solution was going to be… covert. My sister in law called as I was pondering this issue to give me some last minute advice. I can’t remember most of what she said (sorry Di!), except for one thing, to push as hard as possible when it came time to push. I thought while I had her on the phone I would gingerly bring up the bathroom issue. Her response was not at all what I thought, she said in her experience this meant pushing was in my future. I almost laughed, I mean really, but this point it had been about 18 hours and I didn’t see it ending. Around 10:30 the nurse came in… you know for another one of those lovely and invasive checks, and wouldn’t you guess, I was a 9!!!!!! If I could do a happy jig, this would have been the time to do it! I called Di back to tell her and her response was something like “I knew it!” we called my sister and my dad (nothing like letting your dad know about your cervix to lighten the day). The nurse said we would wait until I was at a 10 and then do some practice pushing, and reminded me to get some sleep. I didn’t get sleep, there was too much pressure at this point, plus how are you supposed to sleep when the person you have been waiting to meet for almost a year is about to show up? So we waited, and then we waited some more, and then around 11:30 the nurse came in to do another check… and yes I was finally at a 10! She said she was going to have me “labor down” for a bit… which meant that I was going to sit there and “relax” for a bit to allow the baby to move down just a bit more. This seemed laughable to me, but I figured the nurse knew what she was doing, plus she had to set up and let the doctor know what was happening so it seemed like a good solution given that we had some time on our hands. Lunch was brought in for my mom and Brian around noon- I didn’t get to eat, but by this point all I wanted was water so I wasn’t bothered. I really wanted water at this point, really really wanted water. The nurse said that as soon as they finished eating we would “practice“ pushing, I wanted them to either stop eating or race through it, but I was trying to be nice, and you know… not irritating so I didn’t say anything, plus if I was going to push for a long time, it would be good for everyone that was allowed to eat to eat so they weren’t hungry during all the fun. Everyone finished their food, the nurse was all set up and we started to practice. We got through one round of practice pushes (maybe two, but it’s blurry at this point) and the nurse had me stop. I followed Di’s advice and pushed as hard as I could. The nurse said that we needed to wait for the doctor, she showed up, got suited up and said we were going to push “for real”. Apparently the baby had moved down significantly while I was “laboring down” and instead of pushing for 2 hours like I thought we were going to meet the little guy soon. We started guessing when he would show up, Brian said something like 12:48pm, my mom said 12:52pm, and my guess was 1:15pm. As soon as they had me start pushing all I could think about was a nice tall glass of ice water. The doctor asked what I wanted once the baby was born and I kept saying “a drink”, I am sure she thought I was an alcoholic. When the nurse would tell me to visualize the baby I am sad to say I didn’t, I visualized a nice cool drink of water; really this is what kept me going. The doctor and nurses kept saying how much hair the little guy had, I thought this was a little strange since I was pretty sure that no one could see his head, but I guess I was wrong about that. 12:48 passed, and then 12:52 and I kept saying, “you guys lost, you lost”. Brian changed his guess to 1:00pm and I was sure he was going to lose again; I could not see the little guy coming before 1:15pm. The doctor kept reminding me that once his head came out the rest would come too, and that just a few good pushes were needed to finish off the entire process. I was seriously thanking Di for her advice at this point, even making a mental note to buy her a present (remind me Di), I mean, I could have been pushing like a wimp without this information and it would have taken FOREVER! Finally around 12:58pm there was a big contraction (there were big ones before but this was the important one), and during the third set of counting to 10 the little guy finally wiggled out. Even with the epidural I could feel him coming…, which was crazy. The doctor pulled him up, and put him on a blue sheet on my tummy… then he peed… all over the doctor and me. Brian cut the cord and I sat there wondering why I still didn’t have a drink of water (I was obsessed). My first thought when I looked at him, was “wow this kid has hair!” They took him to the warmer to clean him and test him (the warmer was maybe 4 feet away), and he was so calm. I don’t remember much else that happened in those few minutes except my mom taking pictures of him, and Brian standing with him, but the nurses said he didn’t cry much, and Brian said they stuck a tube down his throat to suction him, and my mom said he had long skinny feet like my brother, Michael. By the time he came over to me, he was clean (ish) and dry and so pink and cute! All in all, labor was about 20 hours with 30 minutes of pushing- not too bad considering it was the first baby, but not something I want to do every single Friday.
No comments:
Post a Comment