For those anxiously awaiting my follow up from last week (probably just my mom) I have finally found a moment of peace and quiet to collect my thoughts and put them in order. So it looks like we left off just as I was being admitted to the hospital thoroughly embarrassed...
After what seemed like forever waiting amongst a roomful of disturbed waiting room occupiers (recall the F-bomb from the previous post?), the nurse FINALLY called us back and lead us to Room 7. I remember thinking this was funny at the time because this is the room we were shown on our tour of the hospital during our Caring for Your Baby class we took a few months before. For those of you who know my husband, the fact that he immediately began pacing the width of the room is no surprise to you. For those who don't know him, saying he tends to be anxious by nature is an understatement. Fo' real. While I had somehow managed to keep my cool despite my body acting in ways I had never known before and preparing for some major system shock, my husband was bordering on needing to be sedated. I mean the trenches he was walking could have safely prepared any troop for battle. I even remember the nurse noting, "Wow, you two balance each other out well." Now that I'm thinking about it, I'm pretty sure that each nurse that entered the room commented on his pacing.
During this time, both of our families were burning up the highway trying to get to the hospital. Thankfully my husband's parents had already been headed our direction when they got the call my water broke. My parents on the other hand made it to the hospital in a record amount of time miraculously WITHOUT being pulled over. My mom drove and made an hour and a half trip in 45 minutes! Crazy! My dad still talks about worrying about whether they would arrive to meet their first grandchild in one piece.
Shortly after the nurse confirmed that my water did in fact break (Um, hello-duh! I realize now that this is protocol, but it was still annoying at the time), both sets of parents arrived to the hospital. This was my and my husband's saving grace. Once our families arrived the anxiety level decreased by 150%. Everyone was there. I purposely chose to have both my husband and my mom in the delivery room knowing that there was a high chance my husband just may in fact lose his head. God love him, but he just doesn't handle high intensity, anxiety provoking situations very well-- Especially when someone he cares about is involved. I needed someone to be able to help keep us both calm during delivery.
I realize now that I was very likely experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions about a week or two before I actually arrived to the hospital, but only wrote them off as cramps. I swear I never had regular contractions until after my water broke and I arrived at the hospital. (DISCLAIMER: If you are pregnant and are not ready for a completely honest description of my labor experience I suggest you stop reading now and cut down to the next paragraph; otherwise, please continue.) I was very intrigued once I was hooked up to the monitors that allowed me to see the exact intensity and duration of each contraction UNTIL...I began experiencing back labor. BACK. LABOR. Balls-Back labor is killer! For those who don't know, back labor is believed to be caused by the baby's position. Generally a baby is born face down, head first. Back labor is said to result when the baby's position is face up rather than face down. Some say this is a myth and is not really the cause of back labor. In my case, my son was face up and the back of his head was pushing on my lower spine with each contraction. This position is also believed by some to slow the progression of the baby through the canal. I believe and also experienced this to be true. I had initially hoped to go as long as possible without the epidural knowing that once I got the drugs my labor would likely slow considerably. I always knew at some point I wanted the drugs- "Gimme the drugs!"- but really wanted to go as long as I could without them; HOWEVER, I did not intend on having back labor. BACK. LABOR! Once back labor hit I was balled up, crying, unable to even breath due to the pain intensity, and dreading each minute that followed my last contraction knowing that I would be hit at any minute with another episode of excruciating pain. I was ready for some drugs not even an hour and a half into my labor experience. Some may say this a labor failure and to you I say, "You must not have had BACK. LABOR." If you did, excuse my assumption and I am in awe of your pain tolerance level. Seriously. Props to you!
Once my epidural was secured my labor experience was delightful. I was able to hold a conversation and simply enjoy our families while I sat in bed eating popsicles. The nurses came in to check my progress every so often and kept me up to date on where my doctor was at, what would happen next, assess my comfort level, and check how things were progressing. Let me remind you that it was September 11th and at this point it was only 6 p.m. I still had six hours to go before September 12th. I had come to terms with what seemed to be my son's birth date, telling myself that the dreaded September 11th date would really be of little meaning to him and his generation-just another date in history, much like December 7th (Pearl Harbor) or November 22nd (Kennedy assassination). Also, I just wanted him out if I'm being completely honest.
About 10 p.m. my nurse arrived to check on my progress and informed me it was time to start pushing. Finally! If I could have I would have totally jumped out of that bed and done back flips down the hallway! I'm going to meet my son! Now I don't know about you, but everyone I've known has had like 5-10 pushes if that and Shazam!-out pops baby in 15 minutes or less. Sooooo not the case for me. Every contraction I was to push three times. When they call it labor and delivery they mean labor as in work. I was taking so many deep breaths and pushing so hard, I seriously questioned whether I would be physically capable of taking a third deep breath for a third push without passing out. Now I did try to save face for the first hour, keeping my cool and not letting my exhaustion get the best of me. (Yes, did you catch that? " the first hour.") However, by hour three-yes, THREE-I had given up on grace and settled for doing whatever would get this baby out of me faster. Between contractions I heard rumblings of a C-section room being held for me and after three hours of pushing I was going to be so disappointed if I ended up having a C-section. I was not going to go through all that huffing and puffing only to wind up having a C-section! Now if it came down to it, it came down to it, but after all that work I wanted some sort of result. I did end up finally having my son naturally-very naturally I might add as the nurses had allowed the epidural to expire in order for me to better feel my contractions since there had been such an issue getting my son to go ahead and come on out. Now, if you've done the math you realize already that it was now September 12th! How great that I was scheduled to have him on the 12th and ended up having him on the 12th on my own. I still thank God for this sweet little comfort message-like he heard and understood my concerns (see previous post).
In the end, my husband did keep his cool and was a fabulous partner in the delivery room. We welcomed our first child, a little boy, on September 12th in the wee hours of the morning. He was a solid 8 pounds and 4 ounces and beautiful as can be! He laid on my chest the entire night. I did not sleep a wink that night and in total I stayed awake for 36 hours, but I would do it all over again for those sweet, precious first hours with my baby. I was a mom. My already beautiful life became millions of times better on September 12th, 2012. :) I am so thankful.
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