(Fun little side note...I am typing this up while Thatch sleeps in his Moby Wrap on me. Kind of feels like I am pregnant again...kind of) I always love to read labor stories, so even though it was eight weeks ago, I still wanted to put it on my blog. It is kind of a big deal, after all. Hopefully, I can remember all the details.
It all started on Nov 16th...I had my weekly OB appt. She took one look at me, realized how pathetic I looked and offered to strip my membranes. I was 38 weeks on that day. Within 30 min of leaving the office, I was having pretty consistent contractions, which, for me, was nothing since I had been contracting on and off for 4 weeks. I took them with a grain of salt. By the time Nate got home from work, they had slowed down a bit. I wanted to try and sleep through them that night since I had never gone to bed with contractions and woke up with them. I figured it would be a good sign if I woke up with contractions-it might be the real deal. I did, in fact, wake up with them through the night, as well as the next morning. I had Nate go to work for at least half a day so he could tie up lose ends if this was really going to happened. I took the morning to clean and "nest", hoping it would intensify the contractions. I was "DONE" being pregnant and was willing to do about anything. I even contemplated breaking my own water with a crochet hook...I was desperate, ok? Don't judge!
Nate called around 11am asking if I wanted him to come home. I was hesitant, but felt this "could" be it. We decided to head to Easton to walk around Buy-Buy Baby and get lunch at Red Robin. I was still contracting, but not enough in my mind to go to the hospital yet. We were literally 1 min away from the freeway junction that either went home or to the hospital. Nate kept asking, "which way, home or hospital?" With about 10 seconds to spare, I yelled out "hospital". I was really hoping I was not making another mistake. My biggest fear was being sent home for the THIRD time.
We were checked into triage at about 3pm. They checked me and I was 3.5 cent. I had been 2.5 the day before at the OB's. My cervix was also apparently very anterior. They asked me to walk for one hour, and if I made any progress, they would admit me. I still was convinced I was going to be sent home, AGAIN. So, we walked back and forth. I am sure there was a group of laughing nurses huddled around the security monitors, watching me jump and lunge down those halls. I was NOT being sent home!
Moment of truth...getting checked again. Wouldn't you know, I had progressed? Now who was laughing, those silly lunges worked.
The nurse said the most beautiful words my ears had heard in a few months...we are admitting you to Labor and Delivery. One of the many surreal moments over the next few days. They walked us down the hall to the room we had walked by over 50 times. I had looked in that empty room almost every time I walked by, praying we would be in one just like it soon. Who would have guessed I got the very same room.
Nate let his parents know by sending a picture of me in my hospital gown, in bed. She called right away. They showed up about 1 hour later. We were all very excited our time had finally come. It was about 6pm at this time.
They got me all hooked up and the Dr wanted to start some pitocin to stregthen my contractions. I was getting plenty, just not strong enough. They also wanted to break my bag of water-without a crochet hook. They asked if I wanted an epidural before they did either. I, of course, said heck yes! I have been contracting for over a month, I was ready to feel some relief.
The epidural man was really nice and did a good job. There was one spot, called a "hot spot", that did not take. He came back a few hours to give me something a little stronger, which helped some.
While I was laying there, dialiting, Nate, his mom and I were playing Phase 10. I don't think we got to finish, but I do think I was winning.
Once I got that super-duper top off from the Epi man, I kind of went out of it. I put on my eye mask and zoned out. I was mostly awake and aware, I just felt paralyzed. Better than feeling the contractions, I guess.
My nurse came in about 3am and checked me. I was 9.5 cent. I had gone from 5-9.5 in two hours! It was a little more than my foggy, sleep-deprived mind could take. I was not ready to push! Who isn't ready to push? Usually that is the most exciting part. For some reason, at that moment, it completely freaked me out! I started shaking uncontrollably. My teeth were chattering so hard, my jaw hurt. Luckily, my nurse realized I needed some time to mentally re-group and gave me an hour to calm down. I look back now and wonder why I was so scared. I was so excited to meet him, I think I was just afraid to fail-ie have an c-section if I could not do it.
My doc came in and started having me do some practice pushes. She informed me this could take up to 2 hours since it was my first. I remember thinking, she is ca-razy! Little did I know how accurate she was going to be. For those of you lucky men and women who have not experienced pushing, let me tell you it is NO JOKE! It is hard! My epidural had run out of medicine about five min into pushing. So, by the time I was done pushing 2 hours later, I was feeling EVERYTHING! During the 2 hours of pushing, Thatcher's heart rate kept dropping. They would have me only push every other contraction at times, to let him recover. The last 30 min got pretty hairy. He was not recovering. I was told by my doc that if I couldn't get him out with the next push, she was going to have to use the vacuum. Normally, I would have freaked out about this, but I was so willing to do whatever it took to get him out safely and quickly that I said, "no problem" It was all I needed though, because wouldn't you know, I got him out on my very next push-no vacuum needed. Here is where is gets even more hairy. I had this beautiful vision of him being born-Nate cutting the cord, him being put on my chest for immediate skin-to-skin and hearing him cry. None of this happened. He came out blue, not breathing or crying. He was immediately rushed to the warmer where 4 peds started working on him. They put a mask on his face and stuck a tube down his throat to his lungs to suck out fluid. What seemed like eternity, was probably only a few min. I was beside myself though...after everything we had been through conceiving him, all the complications I had during the pregnancy, I could not handle another let-down. But then I got a thumbs up from Nate. He was going to be ok. Within a few min, they had him bundled up and brought him over to me. It was the first time I got to see him. He was so beautiful. Still not crying, nor does he really to this day.
Then I got my "vision". Him on my chest, skin-to-skin. He latched on right away and has done great ever since.
He was born On November 18, 2011 at 7:33am. He weighed 7 lbs and 5 oz and was 21.25 inches long, no thanks to his cone head.
Within an hour, we were moved up to post-partum. He got his first bath and Nate got to give him a bottle of formula to bring up his sugar levels (stupid Gestational Diabetes) And then they all left. It was just the three of us! I was in heaven. Enter the 2nd of many more surreal moments. We were parents, he was OURS, we MADE him and he was not going anywhere. BEST.DECISION.EVER.
I only wanted to stay the minimum required, which was 24 hours. It ended up being more like 36 hours, but we were home the very next day. I enjoyed my hospital experience, but there is nothing like home.
It has pretty much been peaches and cream since. I am constantly on cloud 9 and often ask myself how I got so lucky. Then I come down and realize I deserve this. It took 4 years to conceive him and then another 9 months of a torturous pregnancy. I deserved this, period.
Heading in and feeling nervous
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| Not smiling |
Ready to push...I had that stupid mask on for two hours!
So sad! Glad I could not see this until after
Heaven
Grandma Hayslip
