byfirstlight's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The birth story (it's a long one!) This entry is also in my regular diary Okay. So my birth story is dying to get out. Here goes attempt #2. If I can't finish it this time, I'm going to be smart and save it in notepad so I don't have to start from scratch a third time. Friday, August 2, 2002 We went to the admitting area, answered a few questions (thank goodnes for sending in those pre-admittance forms!), and a nurse took us to the high-risk birthing ward, which is where the labor induction rooms are located. The induction room was so tiny. There was a bed and a chair in there, and the tv was up on the wall. It was so cramped that it kind of lowered my mood. I was given a gown and some booties to change into. I put the gown on backwards, and I didn't remove my underwear (nobody told me I had to). The nurse came in the room and she was all irritated at my boldness. Well, excuuuuuuse me for not wanting my buttcheeks hanging out! It really didn't hurt anything to have the gown on backwards, but she made me turn it around anyway. And remove the undies, which also seemed pointless, because the monitors went around my abdomen, so the underwear and bra really weren't interfering with anything. But oh well. Another nurse came in the room at about 6:30 to get my medical history (shouldn't they already have all that info in my file? I've answered all those questions a bazillion times), and also to take my fingerprints and some stuff like that. After that was done, she left, and we didn't see anyone until somewhere between 7 and 7:30. It was annoying, because I was expecting to be admitted and induced right away, but nothing really started happening until 7:30. That's when another nurse (the one assigned to me for the rest of the day) hooked me up to the IV. It hurt. I hate needles, and the darn thing just pinched constantly, no matter what I did with my arm to relieve it. I hate IVs. Ick. At 8 O'clock, she hooked up the pitocin. I was expecting to go into labor right then and there, because that's the way it always happens on TV, but nope, not in real life. It turns out that pitocin can take up to three days to take effect. Three days!?!? In that teeny tiny sardine can of a room?!?! I was not looking forward to that. She showed me how to read the monitors I was hooked up to. The top line showed the baby's heartbeat, and the bottom line showed my contractions. It turned out that I was already having contractions every 2-4 minutes, but they were so mild I didn't know it. Apparently, I'd probably been having those contractions for the past week or two. I guess that's totally normal, though. There was nothing to do but sit and watch TV. I couldn't sleep, because I wasn't really tired. I couldn't walk the halls of the hospital, because I couldn't take off the monitors for more than a couple minutes. I couldn't EAT, which totally sucked, because I was STARVING. I hadn't eaten since 4:30 the day before. I kept begging for something, anything. Juice, crackers, whatever. Finally, the nurse called my doctor, and he told her to let me have food as long as I was feeling okay. So I got lunch! Yay! Hospital food, but it was food nonetheless. And actually, I was so starved at that point that the cheeseburger, mashed potatoes, pears and milk tasted awesome. It could have been gourmet for all I knew. I was that hungry. Throughout the day, family members would come and visit, but they didn't stay long, because the room was so small. I think everyone was also a bit disappointed that I wasn't progressing at all. I was still having those contractions that showed up on the monitor, but I still couldn't feel a darn thing. The doctor came in and did a pelvic exam at some point in the day, and I wasn't even all that dilated. Still between 1 and 2cm. hmph. I started getting cranky, because I just wanted to hurry up and go into labor. The thought of waiting up to three days was really hurting my morale. The doctor did give me some good news, though. He said that rather than wait the three days for the pitocin to kick in and get me into active labor, he would break my water on Saturday. Unless of course, it happened naturally before then. So that was a little ray of hope. By 6pm that night, I still wasn't feeling any different. They unhooked the pitocin drip, and told me they were going to try a different kind of drug. I forget what it was called, but it was a blue gel that had to be applied to the cervix. To do this, the nurse had to take a syringe (without a needle, thank goodness), squirt the goo up into me, and then massage it onto my cervix with her fingers. Yeah. That frickin HURT. I'm not fond of hands up inside me. Ouch. By around 10pm, I was FINALLY starting to feel some contractions. Yippee!! They really hurt. Like bad menstrual cramps, but I was glad to be feeling something. They started to get a little unbearable, though, so I asked for something to take the edge off. They gave me this stuff called Staydol (I probably spelled that wrong). Let me tell you. That stuff rocked big time. It made me totally loopy. As soon as it kicked in I got a big dopey grin on my face and started babbling about Kmart Ronald McDonalds and weird crap like that. Adam made the mistake of asking me how I felt, though, and everything went to poo. That one simple, seemingly innocent question was way too much for me to handle. I just couldn't think of a way to answer it, and I started panicking, and I started bawling my eyes out. All because I couldn't concentrate enough to say "Fine! I feel fine!". Haha. I bet that was pretty funny for him to watch. Throughout the night, the contractions were becoming more and more intense. The night nurse did an exam at around 3 or 4 in the morning, and I was very disappointed to learn that I was only dilated to three. 3! That sucked. I couldn't leave that stupid induction room and go to a real birthing room until I was dilated to 4. Argh. I was also in a lot of pain again at this point, but they wouldn't let me have any more Staydol, because apparently it was actually slowing down the labor. Darn it. So I had to make it through the rest of the night in a fair amount of pain. That sucked. Saturday, August 3, 2002 At 11am, Adam decided to run home (we live about ten minutes from the hospital), feed our animals, change his clothes, and pick up some lunch for himself at McDonald's. About 5 minutes after he left the room, my doctor arrived to see how I was progressing. What great timing. My doctor is about 6'3". Not a tiny guy in the least. Big guys = BIG HANDS. I really really hate having him do the pelvic exam on me for that reason. Yeeeowch. So while he was checking me out, I gripped the bedrails and looked away. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the nurse hand him something yellow. I glanced over at him, and saw that it looked like a big knitting needle. "You're going to feel a little pressure for a minute, and then a lot of warm water" he said. And then, bam. Suddenly there was a lot lot LOT of hot water gushing out of me. I asked what was happening. "I just broke your water" he said. "You're on your way to labor now". To quote my bud Matt, "Holy Flirkin Shnit". He just broke my water? Just like that? He didn't even ask me or forewarn me or anything. Just did it. So I started crying and freaking out. The contractions were starting right back up, and they were hurting like they had during the night. I called my mom, bawling my eyes out. She told me to calm down and get Adam back up to the hospital. So I called Adam's cell. No answer. Then I called the house. He answered. I told him what had happened, and that he needed to hurry up and get back to the hospital. Then the nurses came in and told me it was time to move me to a birthing room on the low-risk wing. I asked if we could wait for Adam and they said no. That they needed to get me there and hooked back up to monitors, because I was in the beginning stages of active labor. Well, duh. The horridly painful contractions had already let me in on that bombshell. So they packed up my crap and started wheeling me away. Adam arrived just in time to grab what they didn't and follow us to the new room. I had to hold the pole for my IV while the nurse pushed my wheelchair. Now, normally that would be an easy task, but I was hurting so bad that it was a really hard thing for me to do, because leaning forward so I could grasp it really hurt. Once I got into the bed in my birthing room, I started asking for more of that Staydol stuff. They wouldn't give it to me, because I was only dilated to 4, and they wanted me to wait until I was at least at 5 or 6cm. There was only enough time to give me one dosage of it, and they wanted me to wait as long as possible. So I waited. I moaned. I groaned. I cried. I whined. I was an absolute mess. All those people who say labor doesn't hurt, well, either they're freakin' masochists, or they lie. Because it does hurt. A lot. Once I was dilated to 5, she gave me the drugs. She didn't give me the whole syringe, though. That sucked, because it didn't last as long that way. It also didn't work as well as it had the night before, because I was already in much worse pain at that point. All it did was allow me to relax inbetween the contractions. I wasn't able to ignore them this time around, and there was also no pleasant loopiness. No thoughts of Ronald McDonald or anything. By about 2 O'clock, I was dilated to 7cm. I was in a LOT of pain, and my body wanted to push really badly. It was really hard not to, but I had to try. The contractions were almost constant by that time, and they were so intense that Adam would shove a pillow in my mouth each time I had one. I ended up biting him a couple times. Not on purpose or anything. He just didn't take his hands off the pillow quick enough. Finally, I was dilated to 10cm. The nurse told me to go ahead and push. I didn't want to yet, because the doctor wasn't there. I was afraid I'd push her out with my first push (HA!!!), and that he wouldn't be there to deliver her. Yeah, that was a dumb thought. But I really couldn't hold out any longer. I gave a tremendous push, and even though it hurt, it also felt good to push. Also, I peed on the nurse at that point. Adam said it was only a couple drops, but it felt like a lot to me. I was embarrassed at first, but now that I think about it, I'm not regretful at all. She was not a nice nurse. So haha, grouchy nursy lady. I peed on you! Then the doctor came in the room. Adam took my left leg, and the nurse took my right leg. I started pushing three times with every contraction. It didn't feel like anything was happening down there. I was still only feeling the bad contractions. Then somebody mentioned the head was sticking out a little bit. So they let me reach down and feel. It certainly didn't feel like a head. It felt like a squishy hairy balloon. Ew. I didn't realize baby's heads are so soft like that. But then, I'd never touched the head of a baby that new, either. So I pushed. And I pushed. And I pushed. And I really wasn't getting her much further out. I really did NOT want to get an episiotomy, but the doctor said that I needed to get her out soon or he'd have to perform one. So I pushed and pushed and pushed more. The doctor started manually stretching my skin while I pushed to help her out. That was pretty painful. I kept asking "How long? How much longer?", but all anyone would say was "not much longer". Then, when I thought I couldn't last any longer, I gave a final push, and out she came. I let out a blood curdling scream as they pulled her out, but honestly, that final push was the best of all. Even though this giant baby was coming out, there was a lot of relief in that push. She was born at 3:35pm. It was the coolest thing to hear those first newborn cries. It made me want to cry. And then they put her on my chest and started cleaning her off. I tried to reach out and touch her, but there were so many arms in the way that I thought I wasn't supposed to. I remember I kept saying stuff like "That's my baby? I had a baby!" Like I just couldn't believe it was all real. I wanted to hold her so bad, but Adam had to cut the umbilical cord, and then they needed to clean her and give her those eyedrops that all newborns get and all that good stuff. Also, the doctor needed to do some stitching on me. That hurt. You know how I hate needles. They had to inject me with local anesthesia so he could stitch me up. It didn't work. I could feel every little stitch he made. Yoweee. But I was so exhausted that I really didn't care a whole lot. I just watched Adam as he watched the nurse do whatever she was doing to the baby. Finally, after what seemed like two hours (but was probably less than 30 minutes), the nurses all left the room, and Adam came over to me. I think I got to hold her at this point, and I think I fed her a little for the first time. But I can't remember for sure. I was that exhausted. I asked them to send in my mom, and she came running in. I don't think I've ever been so excited to see my mom's face. She was so excited to see the baby. Adam was excited. I was very happy, but very tired. Then the rest of the family was allowed in the room. There were about 10 people in the room, and I think everyone got a turn holding her, but I was pretty much a vegetable in my bed. I know I was talking and interacting with everyone, but I have no clue what I said or did. We didn't actually name her until later that night, when everyone was gone. I remember I was holding her, and Adam was laying on the bed with us, and I said, "What do you think about the name Isabella?" and he loved it. In fact, he says that he was thinking of that name just as I said it. That's pretty nifty, considering we had never thought of the name Isabella. We had considered Isabelle, but never Isabella. So there you have it. My birth story. Now I'm going to hurry and submit this before it disappears :) 5:33 p.m. - 08.10.02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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