I guess it's a modern day tradition to share a baby's birth story online, so here goes. (My apologies in advance for what I'm sure will be a very lengthy entry!) I'll also ask Mike to chime in on anything I got wrong, since I'm sure my memory of the events was clouded at times!
I think you, my loyal readers, all remember where I was at last Wednesday (4/19/12) at 39 weeks: getting pretty physically miserable, as well as more emotionally exhausted and anxious. I had been reviewing our baby books for ideas on how to induce labor (eating pineapple, going on walks, eating spicy food, etc.) but nothing I tried was working. I figured it was really up to Baby for when she wanted to make her appearance, but that didn't stop me from resorting to begging her on Thursday. "Please, Baby," I told her, "I am so ready to meet you! I am just
done being pregnant, and I'd welcome your arrival at any time!" (Apparently my mom also had a similar "conversation" with her that same day.) Alas, Friday dawned just like any other day, so I headed in to work like usual. But for the first time ever I didn't have a single client on my schedule (since I was rapidly winding down for the following Friday, April 27, to be my last day). I just had one meeting scheduled in the late morning, so I decided to use the first couple hours of my day to finally rearrange the furniture in my office. Yes, that's right. At 39w2d, it seemed like the perfect time to move a full bookshelf, a table, and some chairs. (Luckily I had a great coworker, Angie, who was willing to humor me and help me out!) Perhaps unsurprisingly, this burst of workplace nesting tired me out pretty quickly. So by early afternoon I packed up some work to do at home and I headed out.
After a couple hours "working" from the couch, Mike got home and we headed to the doctor for our 39 week appointment. Nothing new, so she sent us home with instructions to continue to be patient (or at least to attempt to be patient!) and a plan to re-evaluate our options at our next appointment the following week. So we got home, made dinner, and then I started feeling really sick, like I was coming don with both food poisoning and an upper respiratory infection. Lovely! After some cajoling from Mike, I finally agreed to go to bed at the unseemly hour of 7pm. I slept fitfully for the next three hours, continuously dreaming that I was in labor, but feeling "normal" - but ill - each time I woke up. At 10pm when I got up to go to the bathroom (I'll spare you the details, but my tummy was desperate to empty itself!), I realized I was running a low-grade fever and took some acetominophen. Then I went back to bed, only to awaken again at both 11pm and midnight with those intermittent stomach cramps. And when Mike felt my uterus getting rock hard with each pang of "food poisoning," he started to suspect that something else was going on. I, however, stubbornly refused to admit that it was "go time" until I started seeing some blood... and then I promptly freaked out. Holy cow! We were actually going to have a baby!! For reals!!!
It was shortly after midnight that we called the hospital for phone triage and got instructions for when to come in. Basically, because I tested positive for group B strep, they wanted us in as soon as my contractions (contractions! not just cramps!) were 2-3 minutes apart, without waiting for them to be at that frequency for at least one hour as is typically the recommendation. Our books told us to ignore early labor as long as possible, so we prepared for a long night of waiting: Mike threw in a load of laundry, we finished packing our hospital bags, and we agreed to play some cribbage before baking cupcakes. Meanwhile, however, we did start timing the contractions: they were approximately 3 min, 3, 3, 3, 2, 2, 3 and 3. Uh oh! So much for our plan to stay at home as long as possible! We called the hospital back and they confirmed that it really was "go time"! We called my parents so they could start their 5 hour drive, Mike frantically packed the car, and then we were off!!
We got to L&D triage around 1:30am, and I was disappointed to learn that we were only at 1.5cm, despite the frequency and intensity of the contractions. As they do with everyone, we were instructed to walk the halls for an hour to see what happened and whether I'd be admitted. When we got back, it was Mike's cousin Kellee who was the OB on duty! We were only at about 2cm, but Kellee admitted us anyway so they could start the IV antibiotics. We got settled into our room, got the IV in place (on the first try! A new record for my valve-y veins!), then worked on getting through the intense contractions which were still every 2-3 minutes.
Over the next several hours we tried the birthing ball, the bathtub, "dancing," squatting, sitting, and every other position our wonderful nurses could come up with. But the only position that offered and semblance of a reprieve was leaning over the bed at a 90-degree angle while Mike pushed my hips together. We put off doing another cervical check for as long as possible, then finally gave in late in the morning (?) when the pain was so strong that we were convinced things were trucking along: but we were only at 3-4cm. Oh my. "Don't worry, " the staff reassured me, "zero to four cm is the longest part of labor, so you're well on your way now!" At that point I was still fully committed to a natural birth, despite the incredible uterine pain compounded by the searing pain in my shoulders (from leaning over at 90 degrees for the past several hours) and the intermittent full-body spasms that were increasing in frequency. Regarding the latter, they told me this was actually a good sign of all the hormones of labor, despite the exhaustive effect it was having on me. But I was bound and determined to stay the path, wanting to learn and respect my body's innate abilities!
So things continued in that fashion for a few more hours, but now Mike and I were really convinced that we were making progress because I had a few 30 minute stretches where the contractions were nearly unbearable and there was only about 30 seconds rest between them. So we finally got our next cervical exam and were eager to see the progression. And we found out we were
still at 3-4cm. WTF?! This was getting a bit ridiculous. So now the doctor (no longer Kellee, as her shift had ended literally hours earlier) was seriously encouraging us to allow the water to be broken - this was the slightest of medical interventions, and apparently doing so often prompts stubborn uteruses (uteri?) to open more quickly. Figuring we needed some sort of help or we'd stay stuck at 3-4cm forever, we had the membranes ruptured at 4:30pm. (The procedure itself didn't hurt at all, but the contraction I had right after, while still laying flat on my back, nearly killed me!) So with renewed optimism, we got back into our routine again (me leaning over the bed, Mike squeezing my hips, attempting to ignore the full-body muscle spasms) as I focused on staying present to get through each contraction - visualizing oxygen going to Baby as my cervix opened with every "surge."
By 7pm, I really and truly thought I was going to die. I was sore all over, I was exhausted from the spasms, and the contractions hurt like hell. "Surely this must be the 8cm 'transition' stage that everyone talks about," I thought. But the exam showed I was still stuck at 4cm!!!!!! That's when I gave in. There was just no humanly way that I could continue to withstand labor. No way. So I called in the secret "code word" that Mike and I had previously agreed upon as the sign that I really and truly had to diverge from our natural birth plan. Up until then he knew that phrases like "I can't do this" or "
You relax and breathe through it because it fucking hurts and I can't take any more" (yes, I think I actually said something like that) were just a way of coping, were not actually me "giving up," and were just a sign that he needed to continue to support me. But once I called out the "safe word" he knew I was serious about needing to go down a different road in labor.
By 7:45pm, the epidural was placed and it was the most blessed relief I could have possibly imagined. Granted, I was still having full body spasms (to the point that I was also convinced that I had cracked some teeth from my jaw being clenched so tightly), I could barely move my stiff upper body, and I felt intense pelvic pressure with every contraction... but I was no longer in searing pain and I once again felt optimistic about surviving labor. Apparently blocking some of the pain can also help labor progress, and "they" reassured me that we were likely to see good progress within an hour or two, particularly if I could get a little rest. Mike and I both took a little doze before I was checked again at 10pm. Any guesses on where we were at? Yep, still 4cm. Ugh.
When the epidural was placed back about 7:45, we agreed to switch from external contraction monitoring (which indicates when a contraction occurs, but not how strong it is) to internal monitoring (which shows both frequency and intensity in good detail). By our 10pm exam, apparently the doctor knew we weren't going to have progressed at all because the contractions were consistently hanging out in the very-painful-but-ultimately-ineffective range. So that's when we agreed to add Pitocin, as a last-ditch effort to intensify the contractions and thus avoid a c-section. While that was pumped in my IV, Mike and I again tried to rest. This time, however, I kept getting awoken by more and more intense pelvic pressure... although I was afraid to hope that it might mean anything other than still being stuck at 4cm!
Around 1am the nurse came in for another check of my vitals and to check my cervix. I was still having those exhausting full-body spasms, but every oral temperature had been normal for the last 24 hours. This time, however, she took both an oral temp and an underarm temp - and while the former was normal, the latter was 103! They quickly did some labs and my white count was fine, but they decided that Baby and I would both be treated after she was born as if I had a uterine infection that could have passed on to her. Although at that point I didn't really register anything of what they were saying to me because I was so focused on the fact that I was FINALLY fully dilated and it was already time to PUSH!!!!
Pushing took awhile to get a hang of, and I had to let go of two thoughts: One, that I was terrified of the "ring of fire" that everyone talks about, and I had to let go of that fear because it was holding me back from actually pushing at first. And two, that I was terrified that I wouldn't be able to do it and that I'd hear at any minute that I needed an emergency c-section. Oh, and I guess there was a third thought too: that it hurt a lot (even with the epidural!) and that maybe I could skip pushing on a contraction or two and nobody would know the difference - ha! my body certainly wasn't going to let my mind pull a fast one like that!
Finally, after "only" 90 minutes of pushing (apparently the average for first time moms is two hours?!?), ROSE MAE was born at 3:05am!!! She came out screaming and with a full head of hair. She weighed 7lbs10oz and was 21inches long. It was so surreal to finally meet her!!! After all my worries about genetic abnormalities and such, I still can't get over how perfect she is. I got to spend a few minutes with her, and then Mike followed her to the special care nursery while I got stitched up (I had a "small second degree tear," although it sure seemed large from the number of stitches I saw - and felt! - her making) and waited for the epidural to wear off enough for me to safely walk.
So there it is! Definitely not the sort of birth experience I was envisioning, but I'm convinced that we made the "right" choices in the end. I've decided that my lesson from the whole experience is that I don't always have to push myself so hard just to prove I can do something, and it's okay to get some assistance from others when I need it (and I certainly needed it after 24 hours with basically no progression!). It was a looooong journey to get here, but we are so madly in love with Rose, and her (and I) being safe and healthy is what really matters in the end. I'll post some photos and some more info about her first few days, but first I need to get some rest! :)
