Friday, May 16: My last day of work before starting my maternity leave. That evening, I began having painful contractions. I was used to having contractions; I had had them since I was 25 weeks, thanks to an irritable uterus. But since starting to wean off the terbutaline that I was on (for the irritable uterus), they were starting to get more frequent. After a couple of hours though, they toned down. No baby tonight.
Sunday, May 18: Took my last dose of terbutaline around 2pm; I had completely weaned off of it over the course of a week. I was looking forward to a few days of pre-baby maternity leave to relax, finish getting the nursery ready, run errands and enjoy a relaxing prenatal massage. Ava had other plans.
Monday, May 19:
3pm: Went to my prenatal massage. I notice a few contractions during the massage, but I figure they were due to being in one of those pregnancy massage pillow things that allow you to (sort of) lay on your stomach, which I didn't really like. I didn't think much of them since I was so used to having contractions, but on the drive home, they kept coming.
5pm: Start timing contractions and they are 5 minutes apart, lasting a minute each. This gets my attention, but at this point, I'm still not sure whether or not I was actually in labor, or if this was just an effect of weaning off the terbutaline.
7pm: Decide to eat some chili and jalapeno cornbread. I am eternally grateful that this did not come back to bite me in the ass during the pushing phase, if you get my drift.
8:30pm: Contractions are now four minutes apart and are starting to make my toes curl. Still not sure whether or not I'm actually in labor, I call the on call doctor. I didn't want to get to the hospital too early and end up getting the pitocin sales pitch. He said to go on in and get checked. I finish overpacking my 400 pound hospital bag and we head to the hospital.
9pm: L&D is kind of creepy at night. I wait to get into a triage room.
9:30: In the triage room. Get hooked up to monitors, which is kind of a pain since I have to pee every five minutes. I'm 2cm, 100% effaced. The nurse said that she would check me in an hour and if I hadn't progressed, they would send me home with some Ambien. Ambien. At this point I asked her if she smoked crack every day, or if this was a special occasion.
11pm: Still 2cm. Frick. BUT, since my contractions were now 2 1/2 to 3 minutes apart, they decided to admit me. Score one for the pregnant chick!
12am: Got in our room. Walked a few laps to try to progress to the point of being able to have my epidural, thankyouverymuch. (I had brief fantasies of a drug free birth, but I'm convinced that if you go into it with the least bit of indecisiveness, you will be all about that epidural before you can say "transition".) Came back to the room and asked for some Nubane, please.
1:00am: Floated in a Nubane haze, where I would sleep in between contractions. It would feel like I had been asleep for half an hour and when I would look at the clock, it had been two minutes. The Nubane didn't really help my contractions, but it was lovely just the same. I buzzed the nurse and asked for the rest of my dose of Nubane. As she was getting it, my water broke. Scared the bejeezus out of me and I jumped about ten feet.
1:05am: I'm now 4cm. Woo hoo! The nurse asked me if I wanted my epidural now. Woo hoo again!
1:20am: Anestheseologist arrives. Now that's service. He has the bedside manner of a summer squash, but he also has the goods so I flash my most dazzling smile and ask him to please put a needle in my back, pronto. They make M leave the room, which I thought was weird, but he needed to run back to the house and get his stuff to stay overnight anyway.
1:30am: Getting the epidural. It's not nearly as bad as I thought. This guy knows his shit.
1:45am: Epidurals are awesome. I'm getting everyone one for Christmas.
2:30am: The nurse checks me again, and I'm now eight centimeters. Holy crap. M needs to get back here soon.
2:45am: M gets back. Whew. Fall asleep.
4:15am: I'm ten centimeters. Time to push. They get me into place and I realize that I cannot tell if I am pushing or not. I try to follow the nurse's instructions, and push like I have to poop. I am so lucky that the chili did not make a second appearance.
4:45am: Still pushing. Try a new position.
5:15am: Yep, it's me. Still pushing. Trying yet another position. Ava would descend down and then go back up. The contractions start to slow down. Now they are around five minutes apart. What the hell?
5:45am: We discuss pitocin since my contractions are getting further apart. Decide to wait on the pitocin and I keep pushing.
6:15am: Around this time, things start to pick up. The doctor comes in and and tells me what a good job I am doing and how it's just "a few more pushes". Naively, I believe him, even though that's what they have to tell you to keep you from completely losing it. I suspect the epidural has been turned down at this point to help me push, because the pressure is the most intense thing I have ever felt.
6:30am: Doc comes back in, tells me "just a few more pushes". Again, for some reason I believe him. I think something happens to you when you are in labor that makes you believe any kind of crap people tell you because your body needs you to stay motivated. M accidentally sees more than he bargained for. He figures that since he's already seen it, he might as well keep looking. I think I'm glad one of us got to see the show. When the nurse mentioned getting a mirror when I started pushing, I thought she was insane, but now I kind of wish that I had had one. I think M might have been scarred by the sight though.
6:40am: There is some yelling. And some more yelling. People can hear me down the hall, I'm sure. Thankfully, there is no cursing. People are scurrying around getting ready. I lose my shit for about five seconds, and then I pull it together and realize the only way to relieve this insane pressure is to keep pushing.
6:45am: Ava makes her debut! She has the longest conehead I have ever seen (I guess that's what 2 1/2 hours of pushing will do) and is completely gorgeous. She weighed seven pounds, five ounces and was 19 inches long, and had a headful of hair.
I'm in love.
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2 comments:
Wow, what a birth story! I loved hearing all about it. She is beautiful and I'm so glad that you made it through with only yelling and no poop.
She's beautiful! Glad to see you in the bloggy world again. Hope the transition back to TX is going well.
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