Baby G's Birth Story: Part 1

I think three months is more than enough time to get my thoughts together and put Baby G's birth story out there. I've been working on it since I was in labor. I just needed time to fill out the details and make it presentable. Proops to the parents who can get these stories out there within a month!

I'm going to break this down into three parts: labor, post-labor, and my thoughts on the experience (I have many!). Hopefully I won't go another three months before getting my post-labor story out!


Because my blood pressure was elevated at the end of my pregnancy (high 130's to low 140's), the midwife at my OB's practice put me on bed rest and my OB decided to incude me a few days later.

I saw my OB in the morning. My blood pressure was taken and I was hooked up to a fetal monitor for about half an hour.

Hubby and I discussed that possiblity on the way to the appointment. I wasn't ready. By my calculations Baby G wasn't really due until March 30 and I had convinced myself he would be late and arrive in April. I was perfectly okay with that. I wanted to wait and experience going into labor naturally.

But my OB had other plans. She took a look at my chart and said, "You're going to have a baby tomorrow."

She did an internal check and determined I still wasn't dilated or effaced. She scheduled me for a hospital visit later on that afternoon so I could get a prostaglandin gel inserted to help soften my cervix.

When I got to the hospital I was hooked up to a fetal monitor. I had a couple of contractions but I didn't feel them. The doctor arrived about an hour later and did another internal check. I was 1cm dilated and had started to efface! She inserted the gel and had me monitored for another half an hour. She said that sometimes the gel was enough to send women into labor, but I had to be back at 6am to start pitocin to induce it.

We left the hospital about forty five minutes later and I was already starting to feel contractions. Knowing that I was going to have a huge day ahead of me, Hubby and I decided to head back home to eat dinner.

I tried to remember everything I learned in my birthing classes. I knew I couldn't eat a super fatty, spicy meal so my dinner consisted of watered down soup, unsalted crackers and a bit of chocolate cake. I called a friend to cancel our plans for that night. My contractions started getting a little more intense. They felt a lot like period pains. I was surprised I remembered what those felt like.

Finding a good position to be comfortable in was starting to get harder. I went back and forth between sitting on the edge of the couch and bouncing on my exercise ball. I was amazed at how fast the gel worked! I hoped that I would be one of the "lucky" women who could have a baby with the gel alone and no pitocin.

I decided to follow "expert" advice and sleep while the contractions weren't too bad. I put my PJs on and got into bed. But I couldn't get comfortable. Every time I had a contraction I felt like I needed to fart or poop. When I tried to do either, nothing happened.

So I tossed and turned from 9:30pm to 11:30pm try timing contractions. They were lasting about 1.5 to 3 minutes and were about 3-5 minutes apart.

At 10:45 felt the urge to pee. I sat on the toilet a while because it was more comfortable than laying in bed. When I got up to flush I looked down. I lost my mucous plug. Yay!

I had spent the first part of my pregnancies looking at my underware and toilet bowl expecting to see bood, expecting to see signs that I was losing my baby. I spent the last month of pregnancy looking at my underwear and toiet bowl wanting to see my mucous plug, a sign that labor was approaching.

It didn't look at all like I thought it would. It was white with a couple of red spots. I was expecting something more like the bloody, snotty stuff I have been blowing out my nose for the last few months.

I spent another couple of hours moving from the bed, to my exercise ball, and the bathroom. I tried lying down, sitting down, and bending over the sink. Nothing I did made me comfortable. In between contractions I sipped on water, because I didn't want to be hooked up to an IV during labor and knew I would be if I was dehydrated.

At 1:00am I'd had enough. I knew it was still too early to head to the hospital -- I was still able to crack jokes and smile about things. I had no problem talking through my contractions. All signs that I should really stay home a while longer. But my contractions were getting closer together and I really wanted to know how far along I was. I had Hubby call the OB who gave us the green light to head to the hospital.

When we got to the hospital I requested a room with a tub. I really wanted to labor in a tub. A nice big tub with full of warm water. The nurses obliged. I went into the bathroom to change into a hospital gown and was bitterly disappointed. The tub was a standard size bath tub. It wasn't anything like I had pictured.

I was checked (3cm!) and then hooked up to the fetal monitor where I was monitored for about 40 minutes. During each contraction I just wanted to move around. After I was monitored I was free to walk about the floor. Hubby and I visited the nursery to look at the babies. I couldn't believe I was going to have one of those before the day was over. The thought made me feel a whole mess of emotions: happy, scared, excited, overwhealmed.

I thought the doctor would arrive around 6am to check on me and talk to Hubby and I about putting me on pitocin. She never showed up. At 7am I figured she definitly wasn't coming. Every time I had a contraction I felt the need to poop. My assumption was that I was having back labor and nothing I did made contractions doable. Hubby wasn't as on top of his game as I wanted him to be. He felt compelled to email our parents with updates on how things were going which seemed to distract him from his coaching duties. I started to cry with each contraction and wanted the epidural. What I had wanted was Hubby to really make sure I wanted one. I wanted him to coach me through a few more contractions. But he didn't. He fetched the nurse who checked me. I was at a 4.

A 4?! That's it?

The nurse suggests waiting until at least a 5 when I'd officially be in active labor. She said that getting it before I was 5cm would mean my labor would slow down. It was time for me to be monitored some more so I reluctantly got hooked up to the monitor again. Laying in bed was worse than standing up at that point and I started to cry. And curse.

Around 8am I definitely couldn't take it any more. I was in a lot of pain as I lay on the bed being monitored. I wanted to stand. I wanted to move around. I still felt like I had to poop but nothing happend when I tried. I told told Hubby to find a nurse. I didn't care if it was too early, I couldn't handle the contractions anymore. I couldn't handle Hubby not knowing what to do to help manage my pain. I couldn't handle not being able to explain how I wanted to be helped. The second shift nurse checks me, I'm a 5.

She ordered me the epidural without making sure it was really what I wanted.

From 8:30am - 4:30pm I go through labor pain free but uncomfortable. I was attached to an IV with pitocin, IV fluids that weren't keeping me hydrated, the epidural needle stuck in my spine, blood pressure cuff, and cathiter.

I started to get feeling back below my knees and my stomach. I started feeling itchy from the cholestasis, which had been numbed from the epidural. With each contraction I could feel the cathiter move.  By 4pm I wanted to rip everything out of me. I was done. I wanted to go home and try again later.

The nurse comes in and I ask if it's normal to feel the catheter. She said yes. I told her I was starting to gain feeling back. She said that's okay. She adjusted my pitocin and left.

I started getting really agitated. Hubby got the nurse and I asked again if I should be feeling things. She said they were letting the epidural wear off so I could feel the pressure to push.

Why didn't she bring that to my attention the first time?

She checked me around 3:30pm and I was at 9cm. She called my OB to let her know I was almost ready.

At 4:30pm I see my OB for first time. She checks me and I'm a 10. Finally! She broke my water and told the nurse I could start pushing at 5:15pm.

While I waited I started feeling the urge to poop again. The nurse finally came back into the room at 5:30pm to assist with initial pushing stage. She took out my catheter and explained that I would poop, there was no way around it. Exhaustion had set in. I was told to hold breath and push really hard for a count of 10. I think nurse was really having me push longer than that. She kept talking while she was counting. I couldn't hold my breath for as long as she wanted me to and my pushes didn't seem to be good enough for her.

I really wanted to squat. I felt as though the epidural had worn off enough that I could squat as long as I had someone to spot me. But I didn't think the nurse would let me. She seemed reluctant to let me sit up a little bit more to push, so I kept my mouth shut.

I dozed in between contractions. When I felt them gain intensity I'd ask if I could push. It seemed as though I wanted to push when the contractions weren't at their peak.


Almost 7:30pm. I push, feel like ALL of my lady parts are going to split open. I feel the ring of fire and the head is out. I'm told to stop pushing.

WHAT?

This does not make me happy. One more push and I was sure I could have the baby out. Another nurse calls the doctor and I start yelling for her to get here quick.

7:31: The doctor tells me to look at her. I open my eyes to her pulling Baby G out. He's laid on my chest and I'm not quite sure what to do with him. The moment was nothing like I had thought it would be. Nurses start wiping him down. He looks slighly blue and is slimy. I think I just patted him because I really didn't have enough energy to do anything else. I vaguly notice Hubby cutting the cord.

After that, Baby G is lifted off my chest to be weighed, measured, and assessed. I am too tired to remind the nurses that I wanted to cuddle and feed him first. The doctor delivers my placenta and holds it up for me to see. "Oh, I forgot about that part," I tell her when I see it.

I look around and realize that there are a number of nurses in the room. I think every nurse that had helped out that day was there. The night nurse we had when we arrived had just gotten back on shift and came in to watch. I realized that during those last two hours I didn't care who was in there watching. All that mattered was getting Baby G out.

A nurse announces Baby G weighs 7lbs 14oz. I asked, "Are you sure?" Then I think I laughed at Hubby because everyone was so confident he'd be somewhere between 8-10 pounds at birth.

The doctor said I was bleeding a lot. A nurse came to press on my stomach and I could feel a lot of blood gush out. Once that subsided, the doctor stitched up a second degree tear. The epidural had worn off enough that I could feel the needle as she instered it into the skin (felt like getting a shot) and the tugging as she stitched. It was uncomfortable, but not painful.

Oh, and I did poop. Twice, I beleive. Once early on in the pushing phase and again right as the head started to emerge. I didn't really feel myself doing it, just felt something warm down there as it was happening. No one said anything and the nurses were good about. I wasn't sure I wanted to know if I had actually done it, but when I was telling a friend about my experience a few weeks later, I turned to Hubby and asked if I really did. He said yes.