Let's start from the beginning...
It was the 20th of September. 3 days past due and family was coming in that night, with the exception of my sister, who would be here the following Sunday. I still wasn't over being pregnant, but I was feeling the pressure to have this baby. Family would only be here a week, so I had 6 days to go into labor if I wanted them to be able to meet him.
Basically, I was resigned to the fact that I was going to have a nice visit with my family, then have the baby after they left. And I wasn't being very happy about it either.
I am positive I did everything humanly possible to naturally evict the child - minus castor oil, which Doc explicitly told me to avoid - walking. Walking swiftly. Nearly jogging. Bouncing for a total of what had to be 18 days on a yoga ball. Eating: Pineapple. Spicy stuff. Hot showers.
But, the bottom line of pregnancy is this - that baby is not coming unless that babies lungs produce enough surfactant to trigger contractions/thin the amniotic sac enough for it to break. No matter how many pineapples you choke down.
So, brother, dad and mom came and we did some fun stuff for a couple days! It was distracting and fun, but I was still feeling pressure to go into labor. Feeling pressure to do something you have no control over is very frustrating as I'm sure you can imagine, so I was a bit stressed.
You would think I would learn by now that as soon as I stop stressing over something, it happens perfectly. As soon as I stop stressing about money, we get the money we need. As soon as I give my desires to God, He blesses us with a baby boy, and as soon as I stopped stressing about going into labor... my water breaks.
And whoever said it feels like peeing your pants evidently doesn't have the same anatomy as me, because that is not what it felt like. It felt like my water broke. Here I am, getting ready for a shower after a day of labor induction techniques, and my water breaks. God saw fit to ensure that I was on the laminate in my bathroom instead of my rug (thank You!!), and that's awesome because it. went. everywhere. Whoever said it feels like peeing your pants must have a bladder like Mt. Vesuvius because when it went, it WENT, and there's no time in my life, as long as I have held my urine, that I had THAT much urine.
I kind of stood there like "Did that just happen..." for a few minutes and anyone who has ever gone over their due date knows you kind of resign yourself to being pregnant forever so this was a bit of a shock, and then I just got into the shower like nothing happened. I had to compose myself and enjoy my last shower alone for a loooonnnggg time, see... I was so focused on this that I didn't even tell anyone that my water had broken for a good half hour. Eventually, Dan came in to check on me right as I was getting out of the shower and I was like "pack the bags! Water broke!" He looked at me with this "are you serious/stunned/don't know whether to believe you or not" look on his face and I just stood there with this "I'm totally serious" look on my face until he realized this was the real thing and said "...okayyy then!" And went and told my family, including my sister, who had literally arrived 2 hours before all this happened. Jack was evidently just waiting for Aunt Jess.
The last minute items are packed, the front seat of the car is lined with a trashbag and towels, and Dan and I head to the hospital. This is about an hour after my water has broken and I am already having some pretty steady contractions, but I was so excited I barely noticed them. I walked into labor and delivery triage with a towel between my legs and I was still dripping everywhere. The triage nurse asked if I was sure my water broke...Dan and I just laughed. Yes, this dripping wet towel and the trail of clear fluid behind me better not be anything but my amniotic fluid or I will be very concerned for my health.
As soon as she saw the towel we were good to go. She did all the things they have to do at check in and everything was good except I had a temp... 99.7, so they weren't too excited about it. She takes me to my room and this is where I thank God my husband has a better memory than me, because he asked if I could have THE room. The ultimate room. The room... with the TUB. And then I thank God that this room was open, you'll see why as I get further into the story. Evidently, you're only allowed to have that room if you're trying to go without an epidural, and that was my plan, so we got all cozy in our room. I changed into my AWESOME birthing gown( which I got made fun of for by my friends but it was way more comfy than the hospital one and I will definitely pay the 27 dollars I paid for it again with my next kid if we are so blessed), got hooked up to the IV (directly against the birth plan, but having a fever wasn't in the birth plan either... lesson #1 - birth plans are almost useless), and settled in with some Facebook and Netflix. I realized I had left my birthing ball (!!!! AGH!) at home, so Dan called mom and dad to bring that and the sparkling grape juice so we could celebrate after the birth. They came for about 30 minutes and I said I would call when anything happened or the birth was getting close. Here I thought that would be in about 10 hours...
Basically the moment I sat down in the bed I realized I should probably try to get some sleep in between contractions. I hadn't slept the night before at all thanks to contractions and the cold I was fighting off, and not the night before that either because, well, my hips hurt. I was basically exhausted already, but adrenaline is a wonderful thing and I was ready to have this baby. I tried to sleep for a while after everyone was updated. Dan slept next to me in the chair. By now, contractions were intense, about 4-5 minutes apart, so I wasn't really sleeping, but dozing in between was better than nothing. At about 5 AM the contractions were painful enough that I couldn't stay reclined in the bed comfortably, so I moved to the ball. This ball saved my very sanity. Highly recommended. With the distraction of the ball, I was able to watch some Netflix with Dan and pass some time, although for the life of me I couldn't tell you what we watched now.
Around this time Doc came to check me for progress. 8 hours into active labor and I was at a! ..... 3. Oh boy. This could be a long day if things didn't speed up. As protocol goes when having a hospital birth, you have to deliver by 24 hours after your waters break to save the risk of infection. I knew this and while pregnant definitely thought that wouldn't be a concern. I am a young, in shape mother, after all. Sometimes, knowing what hospital policy is and the medical side of things is a bummer, because this is when I started to worry about impending c-section thoughts. These are never good for a laboring mother. Being convinced that a c-section was only going to happen if either myself or my child were going to die if I didn't consent, I went all out. I got on that ball and bounced and breathed through the contractions and relaxed and remembered to keep my jaw loose. I decided after about an hour that it was time to get in the tub for some relief.
The tub was NOT relief. It made the contractions feel twice as intense, but the warmth relaxed my other muscles, so that was worth the endeavor. I was also excited about any intensity at this point, because I felt that meant I was progressing.
Wrong.
Doc came in at around 8, three hours post last check, and I was a 4. Well, okay, at least I'm still progressing, if only slowly. I was sure I could convince them that I was not to have a c-section if I was still progressing, so I relaxed a bit here.
Interjection: I have the most fabulous birthing coach in existence in my husband. He was there for every contraction, stabilizing me on the ball, reminding me to relax my body, he controlled his breathing and told me to breathe with him. Massages, ice chips, suckers, or just a hand to hold, I had it, he did it and he was there. So blessed.
I labored normally, in and out of the tub for 2 more hours. The nurse came in and checked me. Still a four. No progress in 2 hours. At this point I'm 13 hours into labor... I have 11 hours to get from a 4 to delivered, when it's taken me 13 to get to a 4. Not looking good, folks... not looking good. The most frustrating part of all was what she said next.
She said the P word.
Pitocin.
Um. No!? Pitocin = epidural. Anyone who has any experience with birth generally knows that when not progressing, thusly put on pitocin, you end up with an epidural, then usually a section.
She told me Doc wanted me on pitocin because of the time window I had and my lack of progression for the last couple hours. I refused. Flat out. She said she could give me 2 more hours to try to get me to progress some more, but then it was really necessary for me to get things moving.
I was miffed. So upset that I had chosen a hospital birth at this point, because I know that everything was fine and I just needed more than 24 hours. The baby looked beautiful and I was doing fine. I did my best to channel that emotion into determination, but I was upset. Very, very upset. It was at this point that I got in the tub and basically stayed there for 2 hours working through the contractions. I was trying everything I knew to relax my body and make the contractions more intense. Let me tell you, trying to get the contractions to be more intense was a mind and willpower struggle if there ever was one. When all you want is to get this over with because it hurts, doing stuff you know will make them more intense is so not my idea of fun.
Two hours later. The moment has come! I am feeling so. exhausted right now. I am ready to hear that I am at a 6 and I'll probably be pushing in an hour. Instead, I hear that I'm stuck. Stuck. Still at a 4. At this point unless I literally want to remove myself from hospital premises, I have to get the pitocin. So, back up to my IV and in the pitocin goes. Lowest dose possible.
As soon as that pitocin hit my brain contractions were double the intensity. I will give you a brief synopsis of what happened over the next 6 hours.
-2 hours post pitocin: 4 cm. Double the dose.
-4 hours post pitocin: 4 cm. Double the previous dose.
-6 hours post pitocin: 4 cm. Double previous dose.
At this point I am on so much pitocin I think my blood is half pitocin half actual blood cells. With each contraction I feel like I might legitimately die with the next one. I am not saying this to exaggerate, I was actually feeling like my heart could not handle another contraction. I am at this point 16 hours into labor, the last six of which have been from hell. I am exhausted. My contractions are 10 seconds apart. No typo there, I literally mean 10 seconds. They are lasting 2 minutes. I'm falling asleep sitting up in the ten seconds I have between contractions.
During my contractions I would go to another place... a place in my head set aside for dealing with the contraction and ONLY dealing with the contraction. Before now, this was voluntary, and I could come out of it if I needed to during the middle of one. At this point it was no longer voluntary, and I felt like I was losing my head a little bit. I am sure part of this was exhaustion, as I hadn't slept more than 2 hours at a time for 72 hours, but I am sure part of that is that nobody is meant to feel that amount of pain for that duration that close together. I was going into neurological shock now, Dan was holding me up in the sitting position in the 10 seconds between contractions and blowing in my face to remind me to breathe during contractions. In the two minute span of a contraction I would cry, but had no energy to actually cry, so it ended up just being tears without actual crying. That was new. And it was disturbing to everyone in the room. Somehow, through all of this going on in the outside world, the baby still looked great on the inside.
It was now 4 PM, and I continued this way until 8 PM. Sometimes I am too stubborn for my own good. The nurse came in to check me and I barely remember this part, but I know she said I was MAYBE a 4.5. After continuing in the most intense pain I have ever felt for this long, the only thing I could think was that it was all for nothing. I had two options.
1. Resign myself to the fact that I was in shock, not progressing, and more than likely ending this birth in a cesarean, and get the epidural now, to have a bit of rest before they wheel me away.
2. Continue how I was for 3.5 more hours, until they come in and tell me I haven't progressed any more and they're doing a cesarean.
As you can see, I and everyone else in the room were thinking c-section was how this was going to end. I went through 3 more contractions after she upped the dose of pitocin yet again. I literally could not take a breath during those three contractions, my uterus was so very hard and so large, it was pressing against my diaphragm and I could only breath in little puffs of air at a time for 2 - 2.5 minutes at a time. Again I was falling asleep for the 10 second break, and again, Dan had to remind me to breathe. I remember thinking "I am not even going to be able to hold my baby once I deliver him." And that was it, I was done and this endeavor to do it without any pain medication was no longer worth it. I told Dan to bring the nurse in, I wanted an epidural.
I told the anesthesiologist that I wanted the lowest dose possible, just enough that I could actually breathe and relax a bit. Hardest part of my entire labor? Holding still while he was doing the epidural and I was having contractions. Fortunately, he was quick and it only took two contractions.
I felt better almost immediately. I could feel my brain fog going away and I could focus on the fact that I would be holding my baby soon. The best part was that it was exactly what I wanted. I still felt pain (in other words, I still felt my entire pelvis being ripped apart by contractions), I could still wiggle my toes and lift my legs fairly easily. I fell asleep even through the pain.
The nurse checked me as soon as I had the epidural and I was a 6! The pitocin dose was dropped dramatically at this point. I had obviously gotten that far before I had the epidural, so I felt good that I broke through that stuck phase without the help of meds. Right now I am so exhausted I'm hilarious. I don't even remember what I was saying being funny, but everyone would laugh and I was just saying what I was thinking. I fell asleep and slept for about 45 minutes of glorious sleep when I woke with a contraction that was noticeably more intense and I ask everyone why my ears are burning. I figured it was simply a reaction to the epidural and nothing to worry about. Dan got the nurse to check me and sure enough, I was a 9 - 9.5 and would be pushing soon. This is at 10 PM... I have until 11 to deliver naturally.
As the nurse is checking me she tells me I feel extremely warm and she wants to take my temp. Sure enough, I have a fever. 103.4... Seriously?? Me = petrified that meant immediate c-section, but to my surprise she pumped me full of cold fluids, tylenol and antibiotics and 30 minutes later it was down to below 100.
In that 30 minutes I decided I didn't care anymore, either my epi was wearing off or it wasn't working, because I was in the same amount of pain as I was earlier and I was pushing. The nurse wasn't in the room, Doc wasn't in the building, but I was pushing. This baby was going to be here, and he was going to be here before I had to have a c-section. I did not, after all, come all this way for nothing.
Well, after about 5 pushes I realized that pushing is actually a bit of work and that I was tired. The nurse checked me again and I was ready to really actually push. The glorious 10 cm I had longed for. Right now I am still hilarious. I say what I think are normal things to say during the final stage of labor and evidently normally women don't say anything, they scream... so saying anything must have been funny. About 5 more pushes and I'm well and truly done. I lost sight of the goal you could say. I was literally having contractions and would just lay there. I was far too exhausted to push, you know. Well, that is, until Dan told me there was hair and that it was dark. Dan likes to say that I would push a little bit and then the head would disappear again, but as soon as he said that my resolve was renewed! and I pushed so well that the head was halfway out in one push.
This was very intense for me and probably the most amazing time of my whole life. I was in SO much pain, and I remember feeling that pain. My mom on my left, my sister at my head feeding me ice chips, my husband on my right, coaching and encouraging. But more than feeling that pain, I remember feeling so adrift... almost airy, because I knew I was minutes away from meeting my little boy I and so many others had prayed SO hard for. I was literally minutes away from meeting a miracle.
Our miracle.
So I pushed, hard, and a lot. And it was the hardest thing ever, but before I knew it, he was out, crying, and all I could hear was that beautiful sound.
And all that mattered was him. Not the pain, not the fact that I had an epidural or not, not that pitocin was given, not all that pain, not that I thought I might die from the contractions... but just him.
And then the little miracle named Jack taught me more than anybody else ever has, and still teaches me everyday. Thank you, Jesus. This little baby is what answered prayers look like.
