Note: This is NOT for the faint of heart. If you are even thinking of having a baby and cannot stand to read all the way through this (not the length, but the graphic content), then don’t. If you are modest, adopt. Trust me.
Change of Plans
On Tuesday, March 11, 2008, I slept until about 11AM, except for all the trips to the restroom, drinks of water in-between, and a phone call. I hate it when people call me before noon. It’s usually my grandmother (who I let know with no uncertainty that, despite the fact it’s after noon, I’m still sound asleep in bed) or some “Out of Area” call, in which case I just press the off button on my phone and go back to sleep. Well, my home phone didn’t ring much, but after a call from my OB at 3PM, who informed me she had left a message on my cell around 9AM, I discovered I had 8 missed calls, with 4 messages. Amazingly, not one was to ask if the baby had arrived yet. I tell you, I’m either the most lucky or most unloved person in the world. Anyway, I had recently made plans with my grandparents to have dinner out at the Grand Luxe Café in the Galleria Mall (where I hoped some spicy food and a good stroll around the mall would entice some action) before heading to the hospital for my 9PM Cervadil insertion. Turns out my OB wanted me to go in at 5PM instead. So, DH and I paused Gilmore Girls to make sure we had everything we needed and wanted for the hospital. All day he had been anxious about the birth and baby, but then we went into the nursery to get the diaper bag. He picked up the Mickey plush he bought for the baby and the Tiki Pooh he decided to give to the baby. He stroked it and said, “We’re having a baby,” and started to cry. We held each other in the nursery crying, and so like any pregnant woman, I farted. Despite that, he told me that he wouldn’t want to have a baby with any other person. Isn’t he a dream? Shortly thereafter my GPs arrived at our house. My GM French braided my hair (no messy hair for me thank you very much – okay, so I had hoped), made a few more Baptism brunch decisions (catering seems to be out of the question, which was fine with me), and took a few last minute pregnancy photos. After my GPs left, DH and I finished watching GG before heading off to the hospital, so we were a bit late.
Getting Started
We arrived at the hospital shortly after 5PM, and as I was completing the paperwork I realized we probably should have left after my OB called us at 3. Oh well. We headed up to L&D in room 407, which was very spacious, and we were glad to see that we would have a DVD player for the night – we brought movies and another disc or 3 of the GG. Other than having our own form of entertainment, very little of my birth experience occurred the way I had hoped, or “planned.” I had wanted to have as natural an experience as possible – no induction, little monitoring, no tubes hooked up to me, etc. I was planning on using numerous techniques I had learned in class, such as walking around and hot water. Unfortunately, one of the first things that happened was a fetal monitor and contraction monitor were strapped to my abdomen, and a blood pressure cuff to my arm. It was 6:30ish PM and I was only 2cm dilated when the nurses, Amber or Brandy, inserted the Cervadil. At this point I was told I would not be able to eat breakfast or anything during labor, another expectation crossed off my list. At least I did get to eat dinner around 8PM. Sometime that evening, Anesthesiologist Amy came to discuss epidurals with me. I told her I was hoping to do it sans, and gave one of my reasons as having an extremely sensitive back – I don’t like sharp pointy things near my spine, it freaks me out. She said she understood, would make a note of it, and would be there if I needed her. DH asked her how many people get them, and she said my guess of 90% was correct.
To keep us a bit occupied (I’m sorry, but there were no contractions, so DH and I had to do something to keep from going stir crazy), one of our friends who lived close by came over to visit, so that was cool. He was the only person, other than family, who visited us in the hospital despite other people’s “promises”. I guess it was a bad week, being spring break and all. Anyway, about 10PM Nurse Remy gave me a sleeping pill, but I still had a restless night. You try sleeping through your BP being taken every 15 minutes (keep in mind, I never once had high BP during my pg, so I found this very unnecessary, but I’m no medic) and your fetal monitors constantly being readjusted because the slightest movement, mine or baby’s, prevents the heartbeat from being heard properly, if at all.
The Big Day
DH and I were awoken at 6:30AM, and I had yet to feel a single contraction that was showing up on the contraction report. Good, no? On the other hand, not much progress. The Cervadil was removed, and as I was using the restroom I thought I felt a small trickle of water. As I was finishing my shower there was a red trickle – bloody show or bags of water? – still had to be tested. In my attempt to not feel like a patient, and look good for the cameras later, I fixed my hair a bit and put on some makeup. A while back I saw the movie Why I Wore Red Lipstick to my Mastectomy, and it inspired me to look, and therefore feel, my best. I had picked up some Revlon Colorstay red lipstick I found on sale at Bed, Bath and Beyond. I was ready to give birth. My OB called to check on my while Nurse Misty was prepping me for the induction. If my water was broken and I had been having contractions, why did I still need to be induced? Why didn’t I ask this at the time? Anyway, blood was drawn, an IV and internal contraction monitor inserted, and Misty read my Birth Plan so as many of my wishes as possible could be accommodated. The hospital seemed to have a policy against birth balls since my hospital visit (they feared injury), so I was provided with a rocking chair instead.
About 8AM Misty asked if I was ready to be induced. She didn’t like my answer, but I was only being honest. I was given Pitocin, and with every tightening of stomach muscles – baby pushing against my stomach, or was that finally a contraction? – more water leaked out. Meanwhile, poor DH had a rough night on the couch, not to mention all the interruptions during the night. I don’t know about him, but at the time I wasn’t nearly as excited or anxious as I thought I’d be. Maybe I just needed to feel some real, true contractions. Then again, maybe not.
Despite the internal monitor I was allowed one trip to the restroom, so at least I didn’t need a catheter, and I was also allowed a cup of Italian ice, which I later proceeded to “give back”. Fortunately that was the only time I vomited, though if I had been allowed to eat it probably would have been worse. I sat in the rocker watching GG with DH, and it was somewhat ironic that the episodes we watched (spoiler) dealt with Sookie’s baby. The contractions began to come stronger and closer together, but I breathed through them like I learned in class. One I thought was really bad, but DH told me it was actually quite mild. After that, if I felt a “bad” one, I chanted, “Be mild, be mild,” while breathing through it. It got to be about 10 or 11AM, I was still barely dilated despite the constant increase in Pitocin, and absolutely exhausted. I asked if there was anything they could give me as I saw this labor going well into the night. A nurse gave me some Stadol, and other than having to breath through the contractions, I was knocked out. I honestly don’t remember too much after that until I gave birth. I was back in bed lying on my side. My grandmother was in the room with me as well (she brought DH lunch, and I amazingly enough was not hungry). He attempted to study for his graduate classes, but I kept interrupting him with contractions. I would be fast asleep, then feel a tight pain around my lower back, possibly my legs. It got to the point where I would reach out for a hand to grasp and there would always be at least one. Sometimes I would have one hand, my other hand squeezing the bed rail until that person, or another person, grabbed that hand for me to squeeze. At one point I had my GM’s hands while DH massaged my back. I was practically passed out during all this. Sad, I know, but I think I would have gone insane otherwise. The next thing I knew, I was in intense pain, just really feeling like I had to make a bowel movement. I had gone from about 4cm dilated to 8 in no time flat. I was told to not push, which just made the pain worse. I was torn between breathing through the pain and crying out in agony. The two or three times I did cry out, just to see if it would make me feel better, DH instructed me to breath, and he breathed right along with me. Next thing I knew, they were calling my OB and setting up the room for the actual birth. I forced myself to “wake up” so I wouldn’t miss the birth of my first child. Funny thing to think a mother could do that, but I was still half brain dead.
Here Comes Bambino
I opened my eyes around 3PM. My OB was there, several nurses, a mirror, DH, GM, and my labor CD. GM was sent out of the room (I was amazed at how quiet she had been throughout the labor, and she went without a fuss for the delivery), and soon “baby catchers” were ordered in. Misty helped me hold my right leg up while DH held my left, and I was instructed to push. It felt so good to be able to release. Unfortunately, I could tell I was going to release more than I had hoped, but after a while I thought, “Screw it, people do it all the time, and it will probably make me feel better,” and did it ever. After that contraction ended I was told to keep pushing, but it was much more difficult. I asked to just push with the contractions, and the OB let me, so I pushed anywhere from 3-5 times with rests in-between contractions (I did about four sets of these). I could see something coming out, and eventually was asked if I wanted to touch the head as I indicated on my Birth Plan. At that point I said no, but during a long pause between contractions I did. It was kind of weird, I really can’t describe it. My OB was really good about positioning herself so I could see the birth, and trying to stretch my perineum (I should have been more diligent about doing my perennial stretches during my last trimester). At some point I became extremely hot, so I got a cool cloth for my forehead and “demanded” ice chips from DH. Despite my OB’s diligent attempt to stretch my perineum, she eventually she said she’d have to do an episiotomy, and at that point I was ready for this other human being to be out of me, so I said okay without any hesitation. I’m such a wimp. She did two snips, I think I gave a soft whimper during them, and shortly thereafter I finally saw what looked to be like a gray forehead. Eventually the head came out, and I either missed it or didn’t have the “ring of fire.” One of my friends was wondering if I’d give out the same high-pitched scream his wife did during her birth – no such luck. The weirdest part was when the rest of the body emerged. No one tells you this, but imagine having four flailing limbs emerging from your vagina. It’s quite an unusual experience. At 4:07PM I delivered a healthy (9,9 apgars, supposedly blue, passed hearing test), 7 pound, 2.5 ounce, 17.72 inch baby girl.
As she was laid on my stomach I could hear my labor CD very clearly, and it occurred to me that Deanna was born during the perfect song – Where My Heart Will Take Me, the theme song to Star Trek: Enterprise, which also happened to be my push present. I got to hold her and rub her while a nurse drained her cavities, then kissed her forehead before she was taken for weighing and such. DH caught all this with the video camera in one hand and the still camera in the other.
I watched the two of them as the cord blood was taken for storage, my placenta was delivered (don’t remember having to push for that), and my episiotomy was stitched. My OB was amazed at the fact that I became part of the 1% of mothers at that hospital who delivered without an epidural, and that my lipstick stayed on the entire time – Revlon should use me in a commercial (check out Our Baby Bio if you want to see). Before Deanna and I were “kicked out” of the L&D room I had the opportunity to breastfeed, but this proved difficult despite the lack of drugs. In my postpartum room (307, are we seeing a pattern?) Nurse Michelle asked me if my legs were still numb, and it took me a moment to realize why she would even ask me that. I was practically considered a goddess by the nurses, my OB and her staff, and my family. DH bragged about me to everyone, especially all those people who said I wouldn’t go through with it.
As I said, not everything went as I had hoped, but at least I didn't have a series of cascading events that led to any major problems, and in the end I delivered a healthy baby, which is all that really matters when all is said and done.
Addendum: Talk about blessings. I attended a La Leche League meeting and heard one woman tell the story of her birth two weeks prior and discovered that, considering many of our similarities, I really am grateful my birth experience turned out as well as it did. She was induced, progressed slowly, received an epi, progressed quickly (it’s usually the other way from all I’ve read/heard) baby’s shoulder was stuck on her hip, can’t remember how long she pushed, but when the baby did make it out it was black due to lack of oxygen, so it was rushed out of the room. Fortunately the baby is fine now, but stories like that really make you stop and think. I know there are numerous babies out there with birth defects (I’ve been praying every night for the Nestie whose baby is having numerous complications), so my “non-perfect” birth experience is extremely trivial, I know.
Change of Plans
On Tuesday, March 11, 2008, I slept until about 11AM, except for all the trips to the restroom, drinks of water in-between, and a phone call. I hate it when people call me before noon. It’s usually my grandmother (who I let know with no uncertainty that, despite the fact it’s after noon, I’m still sound asleep in bed) or some “Out of Area” call, in which case I just press the off button on my phone and go back to sleep. Well, my home phone didn’t ring much, but after a call from my OB at 3PM, who informed me she had left a message on my cell around 9AM, I discovered I had 8 missed calls, with 4 messages. Amazingly, not one was to ask if the baby had arrived yet. I tell you, I’m either the most lucky or most unloved person in the world. Anyway, I had recently made plans with my grandparents to have dinner out at the Grand Luxe Café in the Galleria Mall (where I hoped some spicy food and a good stroll around the mall would entice some action) before heading to the hospital for my 9PM Cervadil insertion. Turns out my OB wanted me to go in at 5PM instead. So, DH and I paused Gilmore Girls to make sure we had everything we needed and wanted for the hospital. All day he had been anxious about the birth and baby, but then we went into the nursery to get the diaper bag. He picked up the Mickey plush he bought for the baby and the Tiki Pooh he decided to give to the baby. He stroked it and said, “We’re having a baby,” and started to cry. We held each other in the nursery crying, and so like any pregnant woman, I farted. Despite that, he told me that he wouldn’t want to have a baby with any other person. Isn’t he a dream? Shortly thereafter my GPs arrived at our house. My GM French braided my hair (no messy hair for me thank you very much – okay, so I had hoped), made a few more Baptism brunch decisions (catering seems to be out of the question, which was fine with me), and took a few last minute pregnancy photos. After my GPs left, DH and I finished watching GG before heading off to the hospital, so we were a bit late.
Getting Started
We arrived at the hospital shortly after 5PM, and as I was completing the paperwork I realized we probably should have left after my OB called us at 3. Oh well. We headed up to L&D in room 407, which was very spacious, and we were glad to see that we would have a DVD player for the night – we brought movies and another disc or 3 of the GG. Other than having our own form of entertainment, very little of my birth experience occurred the way I had hoped, or “planned.” I had wanted to have as natural an experience as possible – no induction, little monitoring, no tubes hooked up to me, etc. I was planning on using numerous techniques I had learned in class, such as walking around and hot water. Unfortunately, one of the first things that happened was a fetal monitor and contraction monitor were strapped to my abdomen, and a blood pressure cuff to my arm. It was 6:30ish PM and I was only 2cm dilated when the nurses, Amber or Brandy, inserted the Cervadil. At this point I was told I would not be able to eat breakfast or anything during labor, another expectation crossed off my list. At least I did get to eat dinner around 8PM. Sometime that evening, Anesthesiologist Amy came to discuss epidurals with me. I told her I was hoping to do it sans, and gave one of my reasons as having an extremely sensitive back – I don’t like sharp pointy things near my spine, it freaks me out. She said she understood, would make a note of it, and would be there if I needed her. DH asked her how many people get them, and she said my guess of 90% was correct.
To keep us a bit occupied (I’m sorry, but there were no contractions, so DH and I had to do something to keep from going stir crazy), one of our friends who lived close by came over to visit, so that was cool. He was the only person, other than family, who visited us in the hospital despite other people’s “promises”. I guess it was a bad week, being spring break and all. Anyway, about 10PM Nurse Remy gave me a sleeping pill, but I still had a restless night. You try sleeping through your BP being taken every 15 minutes (keep in mind, I never once had high BP during my pg, so I found this very unnecessary, but I’m no medic) and your fetal monitors constantly being readjusted because the slightest movement, mine or baby’s, prevents the heartbeat from being heard properly, if at all.
The Big Day
DH and I were awoken at 6:30AM, and I had yet to feel a single contraction that was showing up on the contraction report. Good, no? On the other hand, not much progress. The Cervadil was removed, and as I was using the restroom I thought I felt a small trickle of water. As I was finishing my shower there was a red trickle – bloody show or bags of water? – still had to be tested. In my attempt to not feel like a patient, and look good for the cameras later, I fixed my hair a bit and put on some makeup. A while back I saw the movie Why I Wore Red Lipstick to my Mastectomy, and it inspired me to look, and therefore feel, my best. I had picked up some Revlon Colorstay red lipstick I found on sale at Bed, Bath and Beyond. I was ready to give birth. My OB called to check on my while Nurse Misty was prepping me for the induction. If my water was broken and I had been having contractions, why did I still need to be induced? Why didn’t I ask this at the time? Anyway, blood was drawn, an IV and internal contraction monitor inserted, and Misty read my Birth Plan so as many of my wishes as possible could be accommodated. The hospital seemed to have a policy against birth balls since my hospital visit (they feared injury), so I was provided with a rocking chair instead.
About 8AM Misty asked if I was ready to be induced. She didn’t like my answer, but I was only being honest. I was given Pitocin, and with every tightening of stomach muscles – baby pushing against my stomach, or was that finally a contraction? – more water leaked out. Meanwhile, poor DH had a rough night on the couch, not to mention all the interruptions during the night. I don’t know about him, but at the time I wasn’t nearly as excited or anxious as I thought I’d be. Maybe I just needed to feel some real, true contractions. Then again, maybe not.
Despite the internal monitor I was allowed one trip to the restroom, so at least I didn’t need a catheter, and I was also allowed a cup of Italian ice, which I later proceeded to “give back”. Fortunately that was the only time I vomited, though if I had been allowed to eat it probably would have been worse. I sat in the rocker watching GG with DH, and it was somewhat ironic that the episodes we watched (spoiler) dealt with Sookie’s baby. The contractions began to come stronger and closer together, but I breathed through them like I learned in class. One I thought was really bad, but DH told me it was actually quite mild. After that, if I felt a “bad” one, I chanted, “Be mild, be mild,” while breathing through it. It got to be about 10 or 11AM, I was still barely dilated despite the constant increase in Pitocin, and absolutely exhausted. I asked if there was anything they could give me as I saw this labor going well into the night. A nurse gave me some Stadol, and other than having to breath through the contractions, I was knocked out. I honestly don’t remember too much after that until I gave birth. I was back in bed lying on my side. My grandmother was in the room with me as well (she brought DH lunch, and I amazingly enough was not hungry). He attempted to study for his graduate classes, but I kept interrupting him with contractions. I would be fast asleep, then feel a tight pain around my lower back, possibly my legs. It got to the point where I would reach out for a hand to grasp and there would always be at least one. Sometimes I would have one hand, my other hand squeezing the bed rail until that person, or another person, grabbed that hand for me to squeeze. At one point I had my GM’s hands while DH massaged my back. I was practically passed out during all this. Sad, I know, but I think I would have gone insane otherwise. The next thing I knew, I was in intense pain, just really feeling like I had to make a bowel movement. I had gone from about 4cm dilated to 8 in no time flat. I was told to not push, which just made the pain worse. I was torn between breathing through the pain and crying out in agony. The two or three times I did cry out, just to see if it would make me feel better, DH instructed me to breath, and he breathed right along with me. Next thing I knew, they were calling my OB and setting up the room for the actual birth. I forced myself to “wake up” so I wouldn’t miss the birth of my first child. Funny thing to think a mother could do that, but I was still half brain dead.
Here Comes Bambino
I opened my eyes around 3PM. My OB was there, several nurses, a mirror, DH, GM, and my labor CD. GM was sent out of the room (I was amazed at how quiet she had been throughout the labor, and she went without a fuss for the delivery), and soon “baby catchers” were ordered in. Misty helped me hold my right leg up while DH held my left, and I was instructed to push. It felt so good to be able to release. Unfortunately, I could tell I was going to release more than I had hoped, but after a while I thought, “Screw it, people do it all the time, and it will probably make me feel better,” and did it ever. After that contraction ended I was told to keep pushing, but it was much more difficult. I asked to just push with the contractions, and the OB let me, so I pushed anywhere from 3-5 times with rests in-between contractions (I did about four sets of these). I could see something coming out, and eventually was asked if I wanted to touch the head as I indicated on my Birth Plan. At that point I said no, but during a long pause between contractions I did. It was kind of weird, I really can’t describe it. My OB was really good about positioning herself so I could see the birth, and trying to stretch my perineum (I should have been more diligent about doing my perennial stretches during my last trimester). At some point I became extremely hot, so I got a cool cloth for my forehead and “demanded” ice chips from DH. Despite my OB’s diligent attempt to stretch my perineum, she eventually she said she’d have to do an episiotomy, and at that point I was ready for this other human being to be out of me, so I said okay without any hesitation. I’m such a wimp. She did two snips, I think I gave a soft whimper during them, and shortly thereafter I finally saw what looked to be like a gray forehead. Eventually the head came out, and I either missed it or didn’t have the “ring of fire.” One of my friends was wondering if I’d give out the same high-pitched scream his wife did during her birth – no such luck. The weirdest part was when the rest of the body emerged. No one tells you this, but imagine having four flailing limbs emerging from your vagina. It’s quite an unusual experience. At 4:07PM I delivered a healthy (9,9 apgars, supposedly blue, passed hearing test), 7 pound, 2.5 ounce, 17.72 inch baby girl.
As she was laid on my stomach I could hear my labor CD very clearly, and it occurred to me that Deanna was born during the perfect song – Where My Heart Will Take Me, the theme song to Star Trek: Enterprise, which also happened to be my push present. I got to hold her and rub her while a nurse drained her cavities, then kissed her forehead before she was taken for weighing and such. DH caught all this with the video camera in one hand and the still camera in the other.
I watched the two of them as the cord blood was taken for storage, my placenta was delivered (don’t remember having to push for that), and my episiotomy was stitched. My OB was amazed at the fact that I became part of the 1% of mothers at that hospital who delivered without an epidural, and that my lipstick stayed on the entire time – Revlon should use me in a commercial (check out Our Baby Bio if you want to see). Before Deanna and I were “kicked out” of the L&D room I had the opportunity to breastfeed, but this proved difficult despite the lack of drugs. In my postpartum room (307, are we seeing a pattern?) Nurse Michelle asked me if my legs were still numb, and it took me a moment to realize why she would even ask me that. I was practically considered a goddess by the nurses, my OB and her staff, and my family. DH bragged about me to everyone, especially all those people who said I wouldn’t go through with it.
As I said, not everything went as I had hoped, but at least I didn't have a series of cascading events that led to any major problems, and in the end I delivered a healthy baby, which is all that really matters when all is said and done.
Addendum: Talk about blessings. I attended a La Leche League meeting and heard one woman tell the story of her birth two weeks prior and discovered that, considering many of our similarities, I really am grateful my birth experience turned out as well as it did. She was induced, progressed slowly, received an epi, progressed quickly (it’s usually the other way from all I’ve read/heard) baby’s shoulder was stuck on her hip, can’t remember how long she pushed, but when the baby did make it out it was black due to lack of oxygen, so it was rushed out of the room. Fortunately the baby is fine now, but stories like that really make you stop and think. I know there are numerous babies out there with birth defects (I’ve been praying every night for the Nestie whose baby is having numerous complications), so my “non-perfect” birth experience is extremely trivial, I know.
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