One year ago today I went to the doctor for a routine "toward the end of pregnancy" checkup. I was five days away from my due date. My husband came with me and we heard the heart beat. The doctor chatted with us for a few minutes and then said, "Do you feel ready to have this baby? Would you like to be induced tomorrow?" Earlier in my pregnancy I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. I was able to keep my blood sugar numbers under control by diet alone, as my numbers were on the low end of diabetes and I was border-line diagnosed. But the doctor wanted to make sure that the baby wouldn't get too big. Because of my diagnosis, I think we had a total of 4 ultra-sounds, the last one being just a couple of weeks before the due date. So, the doctor was confident that the baby was healthy and fully developed. He said the baby had a strong heart beat and if I wanted to deliver, I could deliver tomorrow. Being the planner that I am, having bags packed, and not a big fan of uncertainty, I was all for it. I was physically and mentally ready to have my baby. I was beginning to dilate. The baby was in the head-down position. So, we set it up to come in at 7:30 the next morning to be induced. My husband and I actually walked down to admitting after the appointment and did all the paperwork needed so that the next morning, all we had to do was walk in and be admitted. My doctor told me that I could change my mind at any time, in case I had second thoughts overnight. He said, "We can call it off at any time, up until I break your water. Once I break your water, there's no going back."
That night we called our family members and told them the plan. We texted a few close friends to let them know the plan, but we didn't "go public" on social media. We laid in bed and talked about how it would be our last night in our house as "just the two of us." We prayed together. Then we tried to get some sleep.
The next morning, January 8, we were up before the alarm went off. Today was the day. Today was the day we were going to bring a life into the world. We called the phone number admitting had given us to make sure there wasn't a rush of pregnant women delivering during the night. "Do you have room for us?" "Yes, we have room. Come on in." (Quite the opposite of what Mary and Joseph experienced with the birth of Jesus!) I told my husband to wear the same t-shirt he was wearing the day we were engaged. We liked the idea of big life events happening when my husband was wearing a t-shirt that had a boxing kangaroo on the front. :) We knew right where to park, what door to go in, and who we needed to see. We got to the hospital around 7:30am and I think I was in my delivery room by 8:00am. Around 9:00am my doctor came in to break my water. He double checked that I was still confident for "all systems go" and I was. No going back now. Gush. Water broken. And the waiting began. We spent most of the morning and early afternoon walking the hallways of the hospital and I bounced on an exercise ball in an effort to get the labor process moving forward.
At some point during the day, I was given pitocin via an IV to get things moving. The nurses had a really hard time getting into a vein in my arm. After trying both arms a couple of times, by a couple of different nurses, the IV was inserted on the side of my wrist, directly below my thumb. That also took a couple of tries and I still have tiny scars on my wrist. My battle wounds. :) No one would ever even notice them but me. I see them.
Around 2:00pm the contractions were getting fairly intense. I went into my labor fully knowing ahead of time that I would get an epidural if at all possible. I am not the kind of woman that wanted an all-natural child birth. Absolutely nothing against any woman who do, more power to you. I went in knowing I would take the pain meds. I would have a c-section if necessary. Some women are determined to give birth with no meds and some are so disappointed when they have to have a c-section, as though their body failed them because they couldn't give birth "naturally." I had told my husband ahead of time, "There's no trophy given to you by the hospital if you give birth with no epidural. I'm totally pro-epidural." And so, around 2:00pm, five hours after my water was broken, I was ready for the drugs. Thankfully, the nurses were able to catch the anesthesiologist shortly before he had to go into surgery. However, it still took a while for him to come to my room, get the epidural in my back, and get it working. So, I had some pretty intense pain for about an hour. By 3:00 I was in bed with my meds and I wasn't going anywhere. So now instead of walking around, I was to stay put.
So, we sat. And we waited. My husband sat next to my bed and read a book. I had the TV on for noise, but didn't really watch it. We listened to CDs. We chatted. A few times throughout the day my husband texted our family and a few friends with updates, but once I was given the epidural, there wasn't anything to report. For a long time. A really long time. The first shift of nurses left and a second shift (the night shift) came in. We met new nurses. We chatted with them. My husband told two of them the entire story of how we met and how we were engaged. I had written some Bible verses on some cards to help get me through my delivery, so a couple of times my husband pulled out the cards and read the verses to me. In preparation for my delivery I had gone to the local candy store, purchased some salt water taffy, put it in little cute jars and attached a note that said, "Thank you for helping us welcome our sweet baby into the world." I brought in 10 jars to give to the doctor and the nurses who helped deliver and then care for my baby. We gave the first jar to the anesthesiologist and he was so pleasantly surprised. We gave them to the first round of nurses I had. And then the second round. They were a hit.
I laid in bed with a monitor hooked to my belly with a belt. I had my pitocin IV in one wrist. I had a heart monitor clipped to my big toe. And I had a blood pressure cuff that squeezed the dickens out of my arm every 30 minutes. At times that blood pressure cuff really hurt, but most of the time it was not that bad of a squeeze. I dozed on and off throughout the day. I was checked a few times for dilation. I had not budged from 4 cm all day. And the hours went by. And eventually it was nighttime. And I was still stuck at 4 cm.
A sad, pathetic cot was brought into the room for my husband to sleep on. The hospital was about to get new furniture and they had tossed some of the couches for sleeping daddies, so there was a shortage on couches. They didn't have a spare to roll in. My poor husband tossed and turned on that cot all night. He slept by a window, in January, in Wisconsin, during the "Polar Vortex" so the air under the cot was cold and kept him awake. I slept horribly. My pitocin was turned off for the night, in hopes that when it was turned on in the morning it would work. I had that darn blood pressure cuff squeezing my arm every 30 minutes, so the longest I could doze was 30 minutes. I think I did get a solid hour once, as I slept right through the squeeze one time.
The next morning my husband got up, took a shower, and ate some breakfast. My pitocin was turned back on. Another shift of nurses came in. Three shifts of nurses and I wasn't even pushing yet! Ugh. And we were running out of candy jars to hand out! It was decided that the baby needed to be monitored more closely. So I was losing the wires on my stomach and they were now going inside, to be attached to the top of the baby's head. A nurse came in to do this about an hour before my doctor was to come in to check on me. As she attempted to get the monitor on the baby, she said, "I don't know what this sack is here. It almost looks like you have another water sack to be broken. I'm going to have the doctor take a look. Oh shoot. I just poked it and it's gushing fluid. It's like you had another water to break." Or something like that is how the conversation went. The monitor was on the baby and an hour later the doctor came. He checked and I was dilated to 6 cm, which he was happy for because he said he was prepared to talk c-section with me if I was still at a 4 cm, almost 24 hours after he had broken my water. Things were finally starting to happen!
At some point mid-morning, I started to get hot. And uncomfortable. I would naturally slide down the bed, and the nurses would have to heave me back up the bed, but I couldn't feel my legs because of the epidural. I was dead weight. So I had to grab onto the bed rails and pull as hard as I could as the nurses moved me up the bed. My arms were getting sore from doing that a few times. I was hot and felt funny. My temperature was taken. Fever confirmed. I was told that happens sometimes when a laboring woman is checked for dilation several times. So, another IV for the fever in my other wrist. Another scar directly below my thumb. Then I got cold. So cold that I was shaking. I could not stop shaking. My teeth would chatter. I would will myself to stop shaking and I could stop for about 5 seconds but then would start shaking again. I had blankets piled on top of me. This continued for several minutes, maybe 15. I finally told my husband, "Get the Bible verses. Read them to me." And he read the following verses to me over and over and I would verbally declare, "Yes," or I would repeat part of the verse. I think he read the following verses over me for a solid 20 minutes or so:
For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power. 2 Timothy 1:7
He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Isaiah 40:29
The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Deuteronomy 31:8
The Lord is my light and my salvation - whom shall I fear? Psalm 27:1
He fulfills the desires of those who fear him; he hears their cry and saves them. Psalm 145:19
But as for you, be strong and do not give up, for your work will be rewarded. 2 Chronicles 15:7
The Lord is my rock, my fortress and deliverer; my God is my rock in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. Psalm 18:2
I can do all things through Christ, who gives me strength. Philippians 4:13
I would close my eyes while shaking and speak through my chattering teeth. I would declare these verses true. I would agree. I prayed. I invited God into that hospital room. Finally after reciting these verses for about 20 minutes, my shaking stopped. I could sense the Holy Spirit in that room with us, getting us through this difficult time. (The cards my husband read from are now framed and in the baby's room.) I fell into a bit of a sleepy state and my husband left to go home to change and eat some lunch. We lived only two miles from the hospital, so he hadn't packed a bag. The plan was for him to go home and change after the baby was born, except I was still in labor! No boxing kangaroo shirt the day our baby was born. I fell asleep and when I when I woke up an hour later, I was drenched in sweat. My fever had broken.
My husband came back and I could start to feel pressure around 1:00pm. The epidural was still working, almost 24 hours later, but I could feel pressure and pain very, very, very low. I still couldn't feel my legs and needed help being rolled to my side. My arms hurt from pulling myself up to the head of the bed. I had SEVEN things hooked to me. An IV in my right wrist, an IV in my left wrist, a heart rate monitor on my toe, the monitor inside me, a catheter because I had been in bed since 3:00 pm the previous day, the epidural in my back, and the blood pressure cuff. I just wanted to rip it all out, I was so sick of laying there. I was starting to emotionally come undone. The pain and pressure was mounting. For an hour I moaned and groaned while my husband held my hand. My body would become so tense and I would think about what we learned in birthing class. Pain in labor is good because it means things are happening and you need to relax and let it happen. So as the contractions would come, I would try to release my body's natural need to tense up by breathing out and repeating out loud, "Relax, relax, relax." It became my mantra. Finally I couldn't take it any longer and the next time the nurse came in to check on me I said, "I think I need to start pushing. I feel like I need to push." She checked me, then called the doctor to check me. He was at the other end of the hospital, working in the clinic. So it took a little while for him to become free to come see me. He checked and said, "Ten! I'm going to go change into my pajamas." I actually gave my first push before he got back. I couldn't wait. He came in with his scrubs on, I had a nurse on one side of me, and my husband on the other side.
Before I went into labor, I had read what the final stages of labor were like for some women. It's so different for everyone. I felt like, "Okay, it's go time. I've been lying here for 24 hours, waiting to be able to DO something. And now I can do something." I kept waiting for a surge of adrenaline. But it never came. It was the weirdest thing I have ever experienced - I could not keep my eyes open. All I wanted to do was sleep during the most intense pain of my life. I barely saw my doctor. I pushed during contractions for 75 minutes and my eyes were closed almost the entire time. In between contractions, I closed my eyes. I think I even said, "Is it okay if I just close my eyes for a little bit?" I was exhausted before the first push. I closed my eyes while I pushed with everything in me. I popped blood vessels under my eyes, I pushed so hard. My face was beat red for hours after the delivery. It took a good ten minutes after delivery for my breathing to return to normal. I pushed so hard I really did a number on my tail bone. To this day, it still gets sore. My tail bone was so messed up that when we came home from the hospital I sat in the car and bawled from the pain because I couldn't move. It hurt every day for 4 months. I still usually sit with my foot tucked under me. I couldn't sit up in bed to nurse because of it. If I sit for more than an hour, it still smarts...making for short car trips. Stupid tail bone.
After almost an hour of pushing I asked my doctor, "How many more pushes do you think?" He said, "I don't go by number of pushes, I go by time. I would say another 15 minutes." It was 3:45pm. You can bet I kept my eye on that clock! I kept thinking about the people in the clinic and how I was delaying their appointments by keeping my doctor in the delivery room. I just wanted the baby out and for it all to be over. I asked, "Do I have to wait until I feel the pressure to push? Or can I push without the pressure?" My doctor told me that pushing without a contraction doesn't do much besides make my body more tired by working harder to push. I gave a couple of good pushes and then said, "I don't feel the contraction, but I HAVE to push. The pressure it too much." He said, "Then push!" And with one final push, our baby came sliding out, which was the weirdest thing I have ever felt.
We did not find out the gender of the baby so that we would be surprised in the delivery room. However, I did not get my big declaration. No one said a thing. I tried to sit up a little bit to see, and all I could see was something by the baby's thigh. I said, "It's a boy?" And my husband said, "No...." And then I think someone FINALLY said, "It's a girl." Then she was put on my chest after she got all untangled from her abnormally long umbilical cord! My husband sang "Happy Birthday" to her, said hello to her, and then I said hello, after trying to catch my breath.
So after 31 hours, she was here. It was over. We thought her birthday would be January 8, but it ended up being January 9. We went into the hospital on a Wednesday morning and we didn't get to leave until Sunday. I was discharged on Saturday. Because of the antibiotics in my IV, I had to be a patient for an extra day. The morning after our girl was born, an on-call doctor decided to start her on an IV because she had a fever - most likely picked up from me during labor. So she had to stay an extra day as well to let the antibiotics run through. Her poor little arm...how anyone is skilled enough to insert an IV into a newborn, I'll never know.
I've sometimes thought about my labor experience and wonder if I have the choice again in the future would I ever choose to be induced? I'm not sure. Throughout the whole thing I was never scared or frightened. I knew I could do it. I knew that millions of women had given birth and I knew that a lot of women weaker and more frail than myself had done it. And if they could do it, so could I. That was the mindset with which I went into labor. I do know that in the weeks following there were times I wished I would have had a c-section. I would have recovered much faster than I did with my tailbone and that awful pain for weeks and weeks and weeks. I spent a lot of time standing up because sitting was too painful. I walked out of that hospital with three scars on my wrists and a tailbone that may get sore from time to time for the rest of my life. I also walked out with a beautiful baby girl who was worth it all.
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