I was so tired I decided to go to bed at 8:30 on Monday
night the 8th(hahahahahha). As soon as I got
into bed, I started feeling weird, nauseous, and almost like I was having an
anxiety attack (over nothing?!?). So at
about 9:00 I decided it was because I didn't eat enough…food fixes everything,
at least I believe that’s a part of the Italian creed. So, I
decided to go downstairs and have a small granola bar. Then I headed back to bed. That's when I started feeling better, but
then slight contractions I THOUGHT were happening. About 10:30, I decided hmmm these things sure
are close together, we're talking 1.5 minutes apart. But they were more BH like with slight
cramping so I thought more nonsense. I
came downstairs and paced around the kitchen (and got on facebook naturally,
and asked my friend if she thought they were real contractions..you know
through the internet..she was very helpful by the way). They were getting more painful. Totally manageable, but definitely had to
stop during them and sway…well I swayed because I’m pretty sure that’s what I see
on tv…and heck it did help! They were
still coming 1.5 minutes – 3 minutes apart consistently. So at about 11:30 I decide I should try going
back to bed, because naturally, that’s what you do in labor right? I’m pretty sure I saw that on tv also. Well, when I laid down they were
significantly more painful, I didn’t even want to lay there let alone be able
to sleep. So enough of THAT. I came back downstairs and paced some more
wondering if they were just going to stop.
But still on average 2 minutes apart and now getting more painful I
thought hmmmm. I got on my exercise ball
(not a birthing ball for the record), but I saw on tv that you should probably
sit on that for a little for some reason.
But that was intolerable. Whoever
came up with that was probably a man. Around
12:30 I decide to do, what any rational wife would do, and pace around the
bedroom staring at my snoring husband, deciding should I wake him? I mean, he has an interview the next day, he
needs his sleep. After pacing for a good
15 minutes around the bed (secretly thinking he has NO idea what’s in for him) I
decided, yes, wake up matt and ask him what to do (because, you know, a man woken out of sleep would
surely know the answer, especially my man that sleep talks/walks). All it did was put him into panic mode. I think he jumped up and said “is it go
time?! Lets take every precaution so you
don’t have this kid on the carpet”. I
took that as, yeh, I should probably call the on call doc. Not surprisingly (to anyone but me) he told me
to go into the hospital. This is when I had
to make the tough decision to start calling my “alert roster” of my kind kind
friends who were willing to be on call day/night should I go into labor to come
watch the kids. It’s now 1:00 am, I called my friends all of whom were local and
by the 3rd friend on my list she picked up! God bless her, she lived
in another city, about 20 minutes away. I
felt HORRIBLE, because certainly, she’d make the trip over here and we’d go to
the hospital and get sent back home, this is what I was thinking. But anyway, She picked up and was here in
literally 20 minutes…she must have flew here or something. Once she got here, I had to wait for matt to
pack a bag…yes HE was packing a bag, mainly of food, and trying to get me to
agree to stop at WAWA for coffee. Did I mention
I was contracting every 1.5 minutes? I
won that battle…no wawa. Looking back though, I should have let him get
his coffee and had the baby on the floor of his jetta…that would have been true
repercussions.
We finally get to the hospital around 2am. It was fascinating the process (and by
fascinating I mean irritating)…luckily the ER and L&D were EMPTY, but they
put you through some extensive paperwork and questioning before anything else
happens. See I think in the movies they show the woman instantly thrown into a
wheel chair and thrown into the triage room.
I stood hanging over the ER desk for 15 minutes while they made a few
wrong phone calls (they had the wrong number for L&D?!??). By the
time they got all my information, and registered me, and yada yada it was 2:30
in the morning. The nurse finally
checked me, and the contractions were
getting more intense and consistently 2 minutes apart. When I got checked I was 4cm and 100%
effaced. So they kept me seeing as how I
was only 3cm and 50% effaced at 3:00 that afternoon. Now, I warned her right then, I go fast form
6-10…so when I get close to that, call the doctor! After she got the IV in my arm (I needed
penicillin for group b strep positive) I told the nurse that I would be getting
out of bed because laying down was horrible.
So I get up and stand against the bed and then begin to panic because
things were picking up fast. I could
tell. I told her maybe I DID want an
epidural. So she pages the
anesthesiologist. By this point, I could
tell I was nearing 6 cm which is my “danger zone”. My history is going from
6-10 in under 20 minutes with my other kids.
Now my contractions were only 1.5 minutes apart and horribly
painful. So sitting curved over a pillow
with someone trying to get a needle in my spine was NOT WORKING. Although I was being good and sat still
squeezing the nurses waist like I was trying to kill her. The guy couldn’t get the needle in my spine,
he told me my spine was too “bony”?!? What
anesthesiologist can’t find the epidural space in a spine?!? He managed to poke it in somewhere after 2
tries that just sent ringing to my ears so he had to pull it out. That’s when I
went postal. I told him to STOP! I didn’t have time for this (and I didn’t
want to be a paraplegic), and obviously it wasn’t going to work. So I threw myself back on the bed, he heads
out of the room, and this is when things turned from a lovely birth story to
the exorcist part 4.
I started yelling at the nurse that she’s coming. (this is
around 3:30) She assured me, the baby was probably just dropping lower, but you
were just at 4-5 cm 5 minutes ago you have a ways to go. This is when it became ABUNDANTLY clear that
I was no Bradley birthing class graduate, nor do I know a SINGLE thing about
zoning out or being calm. I’ve seen that on tv too…you know the humming, or
rocking, even swaying with your partner ( I think this is also usually when the
man kisses your forehead lovingly as you “work through” the contractions
together). No, I was tense, I was yelling at the
nurse. I told her, nay screamed, between
my guttural screaming, at her to GO GET DR JENET!!!! (the on call doctor) All
while I was squeezing matt’s wrist as hard as I could...i hope that at least
hurt a little. This is also the time
when I believe my eyes were shut for the remainder of the labor/delivery. The nurse managed to get me checked even
though I was telling her I couldn’t spread my legs that I was having one large
constant contraction. She seemed shocked
and said “well your complete” and paged the doctor. Well my body was pushing on it’s own at this
point, and I was a hot mess. I mean talk
about NOT in control, it was just pathetic.
The doctor flew in, and although I barely saw him, I had my eyes closed
most of the time or at least was in some kind of other galaxy…I felt her head
come out through what I think they call the “ring of fire”…ring of fire, meh…I have
other words for that feeling. They were
yelling at me to get my legs back, and that her shoulders were stuck (which I
could feel)…with the added bonus then of having the physicians hand in there
too…I mean why not?! Anything else? Luckily within a few seconds she was out and
on my belly. But then I open my eyes and
glance down and could see that Presley
was still all covered in her sac and the doctor was quickly trying to get it
off of her and unwrap the cord that was around her neck. I asked why she wasn’t crying (as if that
wasn’t clear upon looking at her) to which the nurse said she was stunned just
like you. You think? Once they got the sac and everything off and
un-wrapped she finally let out a cry. I
feel like I missed her actual birth, which isn’t the best. And when I ask matt what happened all I get
are gory details about blood and such. I’m starting to have flash backs now though…and
my favorite was when the doctor started talking about how I’d get a survey in
the mail and it would ask if HE controlled the pain and how unfair it was since
he wasn’t even in the room. Worried much
doc about my report?!? I won’t be
bashing the doctor…but the anesthesiologist will be getting a rating far below
standard.
Presley and her little battered face :/
