The Finish Line (A Baby Story: Part 3)

I was finally upstairs. It took long enough!  My sense of time was off, but it had to be almost two hours of waiting.  And you know the first question I asked was, " Can I have my epidural now?"  The nurse told me that I had to have an IV for 15 minutes first.  (And while we are on the topic of IVs. If you ever wonder why mom and baby look swollen after birth. IV fluid is the culprit.)  She checked me. I was still four centimeters dilated.

Fifteen minutes labor it was time for my epidural. Ahhhhhh!  The anesthesiologist numbed my back.  My hubby braced me from the front.  The needle started to go in. I flinched.  They both were alarmed, "You can't move!"

My response, "I felt that!" I was numbed some more.  "Wait, I'm having another contraction." Had contraction. "Ok. I'm ready"  The second time around everything went fine.  (If you are wondering. I was not the least bit concerned about the needle. Getting the IV was worse.)   Then came the chills.  Why am I shivering?!  The nurse told me they were normal. They subsided within 15 minutes.  (FYI: I got the chills again when they removed the catheter after labor as well.)

And it was all easy breezy from there folks.   My mom-in-law, sis-in-law, mom, and sis joined me after the epidural.  (My sister later had to leave due to the four person limit.)  I explained my birth plan to the nurses.  Gave them copies. ( I had about 5 copies.)  I found the tv/internet and distracted myself.  I checked out facebook. And no, I did not announce my birth.  I felt that those closest to me should have the honor of knowing first.  I then checked my work e-mail. I forwarded some e-mails.  And the pomp'n circumstance... I posted my extended out of office message. Ahhhh! That felt good.

An epidural is one helluva drug.  I was chilling. Laughing.  The only bad side effect is that you can't really feel your legs. They felt like dead weight. I had to move them with my arms.  I could still feel the pressure of contractions, but no pain. I also watched them on the monitor, which was very helpful when it was time to push.

And while we are on that topic.  At midnight, the nurse came to check me.  Everyone started to guess how far I had progressed.  (Remember, my water broke around 6 p.m.)  My sis-in-law guessed, "I think 7 centimeters."  The nurse replied, "Not quite. She is actually nine centimeters."  (For the record, I was in a bit of shock at how quickly my labor was progressing.) It was about then I lost track of time.  Somewhere between noon and 1 p.m. I started to push.

The nurse asked, "Have you taken a labor and delivery course?" 

I replied, "No, I took prenatal yoga and watched shows like 'One Born Every Minute' though."  The nurse taught me how to breath.  I took a deep breath, held it, and pushed.  For each contraction, I pushed three times for about 8 seconds each.  My coaches (my sis-in-law and hubby) helped.  I even coached myself at times when I felt (and/or saw a contraction on the monitor) and pushed through them.  The doctor said, "You're doing great!  You don't need any help do you?"  (For the record, please note that nurses are there for you throughout the labor.  Doctors only show up for the finale.) 

Her head started to show.  The doctor said, "She has a lot of hair." He proceeded to touch her hair.  Eww. They asked me if I wanted to look in the mirror. Ewww! No! But since I figured I might regret the decision I said, "Ok. Really quickly."  I looked.  "Ok. That's enough. Please take the mirror away."  For a while her head would pop out and then she would slide back in.  Grrr.

Finally, I'd had enough.  I took a break.  I took some deep calming breaths. (I learned that from prenatal yoga and pilates. FYI: Yoga, pilates, and exercise are your best resource for getting through labor.  You mainly need strength and stamina to do well in labor.)  I said a really good, long prayer. I prayed for strength. I prayed for her health and mine.  I prayed that this would be my last set of pushes. 

I felt pressure. I saw the contraction on the screen. I took a deep breath and I pushed.  She plopped onto the table. The doctor said that if he wasn't there to catch her, she would have flown across the room.  She cried.  It felt surreal.

Hubby cut the cord. They laid her on my chest.  They delivered my placenta. Sewed me up. (I tore. I didn't even feel it.) And then they took her to the other side of the room for her screening.

Mariah
April 20, 2011 1:38 a.m.
6 lbs. 5.56 oz.
19 inches

How's that for a sprint?

The Waiting Game (A Baby Story : Part 2)

As I was walked back to my office, I saw my husband walking toward me.

"Why aren't you answering your phone?" he asked.

"I left it in my office. I needed to get a towel.  See!" I pointed to my pants that were soaking wet.

We gathered my things and headed to his car.  But before he would let me sit down, he got his work jacket so that I wouldn't get his seat wet. Really?! I gave him the sideeye.

Twenty minutes later, we arrived at the hospital.  We checked in at the front desk. They gave me a "wet pad" for my seat and we walked to the maternity triage waiting room. (This was all too familiar since I had been there two weeks prior.) And there we waited along with a few other pregnant women. One woman looked like she was having serious contractions, but she was waiting there too.  This is not like on TV. I thought when I checked in someone would bring me a wheelchair or something. Boy was I wrong.

So we waited. Finally, about 20 minutes later they called me back for screening. They checked my blood pressure. It was fine. They asked me the usual intake questions. Then they sent me back to the front to complete my admissions paperwork.  Since my water broke, they were going to admit me. I already knew that! So the hubby and I walked to the front picked up another wet pad and waited to be called. We completed the admission paperwork and then they sent us back to the waiting room.  Oh, did you think they were going to send me upstairs? Nope.  Remember the post is entitled, "The Waiting Game".  So we waited.

My mom snuck back to the maternity triage waiting room. (I was only allowed one visitor while downstairs.)  My contractions started to get more intense and closer together. I breathed through them. And we waited. Apparently, everyone was having babies or thought they were having babies. There were no beds. I gushed again... and again.  How much fluid is in there?!  I'm so uncomfortable. I just want to change out of these wet clothes.   At this point, the black jeggings I wore were glistening. That is how wet they were.  About an hour had passed. I was still not admitted. I was LIVID.

They finally called me back to a bed in the triage area where I.....wait for it.... waited for a bed upstairs. The nurse checked me. I was already four centimeters dilated. They hooked me up to the monitors.  My contractions got even more intense.  I made a few work phone calls to touch base with my co-workers.  (I only had a major event with over 4,000 attendees the following week.)  But the phone calls had to stop as my contractions intensified. They hurt more when I laid down so I sat up.  That didn't do the trick so I straddled the bed.  My feet hung under the curtain of the adjacent patient.  My neighbor debated whether they would send her back home. And then she commented, " She is definitely in labor." She was talking about me.

I really wanted an epidural at this point. But I couldn't get one until I went upstairs. And there were no beds. So I waited... in pain.  I know some people feel that natural labor is beautiful.  Well, that's NOT me.  I used to suffer from painful cramps.  The kind of pains that had me screaming, in tears, saying prayers, and one time in an ambulance.  Been there. Done that. I wanted my drugs.  Now.

"I want to go to sit on the toilet." What they say is right. I don't know why, but sitting on a toilet eases contractions.  I hung over my husband as I sat.  Finally, transport arrived. Thank God.