Okay... so here is how the birth went down. As best as my sleep-deprived mind can remember... Who knew the simple act of feeding a child every three hours could affect one's memory so profoundly?! I really want to remember all of these details, so it may be long.
I went to my 37-week appointment and found out that I was already dilated 2 cm and 80% effaced. I had a total meltdown in the doctor's office that included lots of sweating and heavy breathing. The thought that THIS COULD HAPPEN AT ANY MOMENT freaked me out. I think I scared Dr. Shoemaker who was worried that I was going to pass out in his exam room with all of my carrying on.
Over the next week I was feeling lots of pressure and having spurts of contractions that didn't hurt. By Wednesday (my 38-week appointment day) I was positive that the doctor was going to send me right to the hospital after he checked me. I even packed my bag, put on makeup and took this picture (one of the only ones--see the Oreos in the background??).
So...at the appointment, I was 4 cm! Let's go! I wanted to make sure to get to the hospital in time to get the epidural. That was of utmost importance. But there was no room at the hospital for me. He even tried to get me on the induction schedule for the next morning (Thursday). No room. So he said, "In case you don't go into labor tonight, just come to the ER tomorrow morning at 6:30. They won't turn you away because you are halfway there, and we'll have this baby."
So we went home and waited. I called my mom, and they got here in time for dinner. Even Aaron came! We went to eat at the Mexican restaurant close to our house. Don't worry; nothing spicy for me. Once we got home and settled down, the contractions began. They didn't hurt, but they were right on schedule--every 5 minutes. This lasted a few hours and then subsided. So I went to bed, and sure enough, the painful ones started around 3 a.m. For some reason I was still set on getting to the hospital at 6:30...so I was just hanging out in the bed. I got up at 4:30 and took a shower (shaved the legs...) and started getting increasingly agitated that Justin would not hurry up. He was taking his precious time eating breakfast, brushing the teeth... I was curled up on the couch yelling at him.
I was already ready for my epidural then, so I decided to forgo any makeup, thinking that afterwards I would feel much better and then could look good for the pictures. {So that is why I look horrible...uninformed planning on my part.}
We got to the hospital right at 6:30 a.m. (such a good, little rule follower...) The lady in the ER said I was the 4th pregnant person that morning. Oh joy. They took their time wheeling me upstairs, and once I got there there really was no room. I ended up in the c-section recovery room, right next to the OR. The nurse checked me... 5 cm... and said I had bought myself a ticket to stay. I started asking for the epidural then. Now where to put me?? Oh yes. I stayed in that recovery room...where there was minimal equipment and monitors that worked only sporadically...and where doctors would come to look for their c-section patients and find me. Not their patient. We felt just like Mary and Joseph in the stable because there was no room in Labor & Delivery. (Well not JUST like them, since Mary was carrying the Savior and all... but the lack of space was comparable.)
Anyway, have I mentioned that I asked for the epidural? Apparently you have to have your IV and answer 20 million questions first. And have some sort of blood work? Whatever. It took 3 tries (and 1 blown vein) to get an IV started. And then they couldn't get any blood out of the IV for the blood work, so I had to wait until the lab could come draw some. And that took forever. And I was annoyed and ill. And didn't want anyone to TOUCH me.
The nurse offered me some Nubain (sp?) to help with the pain until the anesthesiologist could get to me. Hooray for Nubain. I would like to have some of that on a regular basis. I was feeling a little better, and then Dr. Shoemaker came in to break my water. Not going to happen without the epidural, thank you very much. He agreed, was surprised that I had not gotten it yet, and went off to find the doctor himself. I do love me some Dr. Shoemaker. So, after three and a half hours of begging for the epidural, it came to pass. {Interesting side note... the anesthesiologist who administered the good stuff remembered me from my ear surgery! She said, "weren't you just in here?" Embarrassing.}
Epidural in. Flat on back. Blood pressure bottoms out. Like 60/20. It was awful! Everything turned white and I decided to just go to the light. I'm not sure if I passed out or not, but I did tell the nurse that I was going to vomit, and you know how I feel about vomiting. When Justin and my mom came back in, I looked like this:
I had had 3 or 4 doses of epinephrine, but had managed not to throw up. And I was 6 cm. There was really no point to putting on makeup now, because I was sweating so profusely.
My doctor came back, broke my water and started the Pitocin in my IV.
I have heard stories of epidurals gone bad...hot spots, wearing off, etc... I must say that mine was amazing. I felt nothing. NOTHING. It was wonderful, and I can't imagine having a baby without one. Props to people who do natural childbirth, but I think they might be nuts.
Okay, so, we are hanging out in the stable, watching for contractions that aren't showing up on the broken monitor, just chilling. It had been a couple hours...lunchtime...my nurse was gone to lunch, Dr. Shoemaker was in surgery... It was quiet. Our friend (who is also a OBGYN) Fred Deigmann came in to say hello. He laughed about our accommodations, and asked how I was doing. I told him I was just fine. Epidurals are great. I can feel nothing but some pressure "down there." He said, "pressure? Where is your doctor? When is the last time they checked you? I'm going to do it myself." Sure enough, I was fully dilated, and it was time to push. He went out in the hall saying, "We need a nurse. We need a nurse!" Well, mine was at lunch.
And then I started freaking out again... Pushing sounds so scary. I was tired. I needed a nap. Not time to push. Fred found a nurse, and I told her that I could just wait a while. I knew they were short-staffed today, and I could just wait. Not a problem. I could take a short nap and be ready for the pushing in an hour or two. I was very surprised when she said that was okay!! She said I could "labor down" for a while, meaning that we would let the contractions push the baby down instead of me pushing. Sounded good to me.
My nurse came back an hour later, so I never got my nap. It was 2 p.m. and time to get the show on the road. Justin was on my right side, my mom on the left. We did a few "practice" pushes. What the heck is that??? Then I said to Justin, "I am going to throw up in 5 seconds." And I puked about 5 times. I have managed to NOT THROW UP this entire pregnancy (even through 20+ weeks of sickness), and I puke at the bitter end? Ugh. It was disgusting. And the worst part of the whole thing.
I was under the impression that by "laboring down," I would not have to push but a couple times, and the baby would just pop out. Incorrect. It took about an hour, and it was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, no exaggeration. I kept wanting to take a break...take a nap...just quit. That sounds crazy, doesn't it? Mom called this "transition" and said it was completely normal. They wouldn't let me quit, of course, and at 3:13 p.m. we had our baby! Dr. Shoemaker made it in just in time to catch him (he was doing a hysterectomy) and stitch me up.
And that is all I can write. This has taken long enough. More pics to come, I am quite sure.
And I gained 30 pounds. I finally looked.
