When we arrived, we were still required to check in, make a payment, etc. even though I had pre-registered. At this point, I was still able to breathe through the contractions while sitting there, calmly answering the check-in lady's questions and giving them my life's savings. When we were sufficiently broke, we rode the elevator up to the birth center floor. I was asked if I wanted a wheelchair, and me being the tough woman I am, said "Nope! I'm fine!" Once at the birth center, they took their sweet time in getting me checked in, weighed, in the room (which wasn't a delivery room, just one to monitor before officially checking someone in), etc. All this time, the contractions were increasing in intensity and I was regretting my "tough" moment and wanting to just sit down in between to rest! Once in the room, I was hooked up to the monitors and left for about 20 minute intervals to monitor my contractions. They were having trouble tracking G's heartbeat, so I had to lie there for over an hour, some on my side, some on my back, all the while the contractions were getting worse. If you've never experienced contractions, let me tell you, lying down is not the best way to experience them.
I was only dilated to a 3 when I arrived; the nurse checked me again after that first hour and a half, I was still only a 3, so they advised me to walk. Walk I did...mom, Jim and I walked all around the floor for about 45 minutes; I was having to stop and breathe through the contractions whenever they came, holding on to the railings on the wall and Jim rubbing my back. I'm sure we provided entertainment for the people in the waiting room. That, or frightened them, I'm not really sure which. I was already to the point where I kept wanting to sit on the toilet because it felt better and relieved some of the pressure; I couldn't fathom how much worse this would get. When we got back to the room, they hooked me up to the monitors again and re-checked me; I was STILL only a 3! (silent curse words inserted here) That discouraged me a lot, as the contractions were
Knowing I wanted a natural birth, they gave me the option to go home and labor instead of staying there, which we decided to do, so as not be pressured by anyone regarding drugs/medicines, etc. I asked the nurse how I would know when to come back and she very nicely said "When the contractions are so bad you can't walk. They're going to get much, much worse." Lovely. We arrived home around 8:30 pm and I tried lying in bed with Pride and Prejudice on the computer; Jim and mom and Carol (our friend and faux-doula as I like to call her) taking turns rubbing my back. This worked for a while and I was able to rest a bit, but soon the contractions were too strong and I did not want to lie still. I jumped off the bed and was
I labored differently depending on who was helping me at the time, which I find funny now. With mom, I just wanted her to help me breathe - no talking, no rubbing the back, just breathe please. Carol would just talk to me like normal and I was able to focus on conversation and not as much on the contractions (somewhat). Jim would talk to me about things we had done/things we had planned, so as to keep my mind off the pain...things we would do with our baby. Throughout all of this, I kept saying "I don't care anymore, I just want drugs! It hurts too much!" And Jim would calmly remind me "No, you don't. You'd have a worse time with them than without them." (again-thanks honey, although I'm sure I was
In the shower, I started...moaning? chanting?...I don't know what you would call it, but it felt good to make some noise and have it reverberate off the shower walls - this helped immensely when a contraction came on. At some point, I realized they were getting extremely strong, and I would feel my body wanting to push. I told mom this and they called the hospital, who informed them that since it was my first baby, it was highly unlikely I'd progressed that quickly, and just to take "comfort measures" (I think this was sometime shortly after 11 pm). Let us note, dear hospital staff: there is nothing "comfortable" about labor. I would advise you to rephrase next time. I tried to just focus and breathe through them, but they continued to intensify and I couldn't stop the pushing (not that I needed to-your body knows what it's doing!) Carol had gone home to check on her kids; she came back over and helped time the contractions...when she realized they were lasting 2-3 minutes each and with little to no break in between (maybe 30 seconds) we (more they-a car ride did not exactly sound pleasant) decided it was time to go to the hospital. Mom called to let them know we were on our way. I did NOT want to get out of the shower; Jim had to coax me out in between contractions, then threw some clothes on me and got me in the car. We left around midnight on November 8th.
That car ride was the most miserable experience I have ever had. Sorry, but while birth was a beautiful, natural thing, it was painful like nothing I've ever experienced. For days afterwards I kept thinking "I don't EVER want to do that again!" I think part of it may have been made worse by my fear that I wasn't progressing; I was thinking, "If I'm only a 5 or 6 and already feeling like I have to push, I can't do this!" I told mom and Jim that on the way to the hospital; if I wasn't progressing, we were seriously going to consider something to take the edge off (even though I honestly didn't want this, but the pain was just too intense). Mom helped me breathe through each contraction in the car, and as soon as we pulled up they got a wheelchair and wheeled me in. Jim laughs at this part, because it was the exact opposite of when we checked in earlier. This time, I was semi crying/moaning, sopping wet, eye makeup from that morning running, trying to breathe, in a wheelchair...the woman just looked at me and said "go on up, we already called ahead!"
I was taken straight to a delivery room, and the nurse had to get me hooked up to a monitor, which I was fighting like crazy, because I did NOT want to sit still again. I had about 3 contractions while this was going on and told her I needed to push; she wouldn't let me until I was hooked up. Another came soon thereafter, and I said "I really need to push!" and to my surprise (and relief!) she said "OK, go ahead!" She checked me while I was pushing, and I heard Jim ask how much I was dilated. Her response? "She's pretty much fully dilated" - and she could see his head! I can't even tell you how excited I was to hear that! I went from being sent home to him almost crowning in around 3 1/2 hours. Pushing was HARD-I kept wanting to make noise/yell when pushing and they kept telling me to hold my breath...I'm sure it was quite comical, but it's really difficult to keep quite when you're in pain! I finally got it down after a bit. Not long after starting to push, he was close enough to crowning that they called the doctor in. I don't have a concept of time at this point, but about halfway through pushing my water broke, which felt wonderfully relieving. While all of this was going on, they were also trying to get an IV in me as I was Group B positive and needed antibiotics, but I was dehydrated and the needle kept popping out - once so badly that it actually flew onto the floor. (I only know this because Jim told me; I had no idea this was going on)
Jim, mom and Carol kept telling me they could see his head, which gave me the motivation to push harder and keep going. His head finally came out after around 35-40 minutes (I think) of pushing. When his head came out, the cord was wrapped around his neck too tightly to pull over his head, so the doctor had to cut it right away. Another couple of pushes and he was out, at 1:53 am on November 8th. I remember Carol saying "Open your eyes!" (I'd had them closed the entire time); I did - and there was my son! It was the most surreal experience; I can't really describe it. Also, I had almost immediate relief once he was out, which was a bonus. He had merconium in utero (his first poop) so they took him immediately and suctioned him. I didn't know it then, but the neo-natal team was in there, as merconium can cause an infection...Jim said it was a bit scary. I delivered the placenta and had to have some stitches; all the while they were still working on him. After about 40 minutes, he was a bit wheezy and they were concerned he had some respiratory issues; they were about to call the neo-natal team back in when one nurse (bless her!) said "Why don't we just put him on mom and see what happens?" They put him on my chest and he immediately started breathing normally. That was probably the sweetest moment of my life, to feel my child and know that what he needed was to be with his mama. Looking back, had I known he wasn't in any real danger, I would have insisted he be put on me immediately (as we planned) but thinking he was in danger, I let them do what I thought needed to be done. Thankfully he is a healthy boy, although I do sometimes wonder if his tendency to spit up (when not caused by allergies) is worse because of the suctioning. But, if that's all that happened, I'll take it!
Once I was cleaned up and ready to go, they wheeled us into our room, and we haven't slept since. ;)
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