*Warning: this is a labor and delivery story, not sparing any of the details*
On September 10th, at 7:00 am, I walked into the hospital ready to have a baby. At the reception desk, I filled out some paperwork and waited (not patiently) to get up to the room. Each thing I did was followed with an echo of, "That the last time you get out your insurance card/push the number 4 on an elevator/sign your name/etc. not as a mom". At about 7:45, I made it to my room, put on my gown and climbed into bed. The nurse came in and talked with me for a while, just getting to know me. Then another nurse came in and asked me a lot of questions about my health history. Shortly after she finished her questioning, the nurse anesthetist gave me the complete description of getting an epidural and I signed the release in the event that I decided to get some pain relief.
Then-showtime. The nurse attached the IV and started the pitocin to induce labor and added a line of saline to keep me hydrated. (Since I was being induced, I had been fasting for 12 hours and not had anything to drink.) She then hooked up two monitors to my belly, one for the baby and one for me. Then she put on the blood pressure cuff and a finger-squeezy-pulse-thing. My doctor then stopped by and broke my water, which feels like you are peeing yourself and makes everything from there on out messy and gross. By now it was about 8:30.
The first hour was very mild. My parents stopped in to check on us and my husband showed me some funny online videos, but by 9:30 it was down to business. I started to really feel the contractions and kept moving around to try to ease the pain. I knew that I was supposed to be getting rest in between contractions, but the pain was constant. I told my nurse, who decided to back down my pitocin. Thankfully, once they jump started my labor, my body kicked in and started working on it's own. Backing down the pitocin let me rest between contractions, and by about noon, they were able to take me off the pitocin altogether.
I labored sitting on the edge of the bed, sitting on a yoga ball, and also tried just standing up. My husband held my hands and counted to 20, then backwards back to 1. I knew that when he said 20 the contraction was as bad as it was going to get and by the time he said 1 it would be over. With every number he said, I squeezed his hands to give me an outlet for the pain.
I keep saying pain, let me say, it was unlike anything I have ever felt before. In the beginning stages it felt like a strong period cramp (which I have had plenty of in my life), but as it progressed, I could feel the pain wrap itself around me from my back, then all the way around my stomach. It absolutely hurt, but once it was over, I could rest and recover. I found myself doing two things I didn't expect. Swaying and moaning. Just like it soothes a baby; it was very soothing to me. It was like crowding my senses with other non-pain sensations. Between contractions, I would just sway side to side and these little sounds kept escaping me. I didn't really feel like I could control it. I made no conscious choice to do these things and was barely aware that I was doing them.
I kept up this routine, keeping my husband always in contact with me, throughout the morning. The nurse and doctor checked me several times for dilation. I was making good progress and faster than expected. I don't know if it helped, but every time I had a contraction I thought about the baby moving down, that each pain was working to get this little one out into the world.
By about 12:45, they told me I could get into the shower. I was dilated to an 8 and off the pitocin. I was so grateful to sit in the warm stream of water and let it hit my back, but I only got to sit there for about 5 minutes. The water so relaxing, that all of a sudden I yelled to my husband that it felt like I had to poop! I knew that I wasn't really going to poop (I had already done that earlier in the labor process, and in the toilet-not the table, I might add) but it was that pushing urge. He yanked the red emergency cord on the wall and the nurse was there. They got me out of the shower and onto the bed, where the checked me again it was push time.
Best I can estimate, pushing lasted about an hour. It was strange, I felt the need to push and thought I would know what to do, but really, I had no clue. After kind of writhing around through the first real pushing contraction, the nurse called me by name and said, "You need to focus!" She gave me about a thousand directions, legs here!, hands there!, head here!, etc. It was hard to take it all in, but with some time, we got there. I could feel when pushing was working and when I wasn't being effective. This kept up for a while and the doctor and my husband gave me updates throughout.
People gave my husband lots of tips, mostly different forms of, "DON'T look down there!" However, when it was time to push, the nurse took my left leg and directed my husband to take the right one. The two of them stayed there the whole time. He could see the baby's head when it crowned and encouraged me to keep going. I was glad it was him telling me what was going on. I didn't feel like he was watching this happen, he was in it with me, counting, breathing, and holding me up. And I am eternally grateful for that.
I kept working to get this baby here but was struggling to get passed the baby's head. So the doctor told my husband to look away and made an episiotomy. When he finished, I knew this baby was almost here. I have this quick snapshot image of the baby's quiet, gray face as the doctor worked the shoulders out. He told me to give a strong push and my husband kept saying that the baby is "almost here". My eyes were still closed tight when I felt that baby leave, the doctor told me to open my eyes and as I did, I saw them lifting the now-crying baby up onto my chest all wet and beautiful and slippery. I just cried and cried, grateful that the baby had made it. On the way to my chest my husband saw the evidence and told me that we had a boy.
Our sweet little boy.
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