(no subject)

[kcobweb]

My instincts and predictions were right all along – I thought she’d come sometime the weekend after my due date. Saturday March 5th I was feeling good, with a nice burst of energy. I made coffee cake for breakfast, and cooked dinner too – practically the only cooking I’d really done all week. By about 9:30 p.m. I was getting tired and thinking about going to bed. I was sitting on the couch, reading my Glamour magazine, which came in the mail that day, while D was watching "Mars Attacks" on cable. (Ironic, that, because I’ve never been too fond of that movie.) About 10:20 – just a few pages from the end of the magazine – I suddenly felt a gush of fluid, and knew that it wasn’t urine. It just didn’t feel like my bladder let go. I jumped up instantly, and didn’t really say anything – just headed for the bathroom. On my way there, up the stairs, I felt a few more gushes. I got to the toilet, looked, and yes, I had clear fluid everywhere with little spots of bright red blood. I called out "hey, I think my water just broke." D was upstairs so fast, I don’t know how he did it. He got me a change of underwear and a maxipad (which were in the bedroom) – while I sat there with my knees shaking. I put those on, and came out to find him absolutely trembling. Ah, adrenalin. I held him for a second, and then called the Family Birth Center. Since I was pretty sure it was my water, they told me to come right in. We took a minute or two to grab a few last minute things (I’m not sure what I grabbed exactly, because my bag was mostly packed already) – and got in the car and drove there. Three blocks away. We got to hospital much faster than they expected, of course. They got me into a birthing suite (they look like hotel rooms, with lots of medical equipment cleverly tucked away in corners), and checked to make sure it was indeed amniotic fluid. I wasn’t really contracting, so they suggested we walk the halls. The thing is, they wanted me to be in labor by 6 hours after the time my water broke, so we had a "deadline" of 4 a.m. And we walked for the next hour – the 3 hallways of the Birth Center back and forth and back forth. Occasionally as we passed rooms we’d hear a baby crying. By about 12:30, we were back into the room, and they hooked me up to the monitors – I was contracting very very slightly, but they were so mild I couldn’t really feel them. So they suggested we try to sleep – D did okay, but I couldn’t. Too much going through my mind. At 3:30 the nurse came in and suggested the jacuzzi tub in my bathroom, so we went in there – it felt lovely – for the next half hour. At 4 a.m. they checked me – I was not really contracting still, so… Pitocin in the IV. (Pitocin induces contractions, basically, and often brings on labor too hard and too fast – I’ve heard a million pitocin horror stories. As I said to the nurse, I’ve never heard someone say "Hey, I had Pitocin, and it was great!") So – she started that, and at a very low level, to be ramped up. Left us again to sleep – it could be hours, right? I was just vaguely starting to feel cramps and pressure in my pelvis, and so getting uncomfortable on my back, so turned to my side. That brought the nurse into the room because the monitor shifted and wasn’t picking up anything. I assured her that now there were things to pick up. So – she adjusted it, and left, and then came back, and I said, Oh yeah, I’m having contractions, but the monitor still wasn’t getting them. This went on until 6 a.m., when she insisted that I needed to sit facing forward so they could measure the contraction pattern. I was kind of pissed at her for that – because that made it really hurt, whereas my side was relatively comfortable. (Yes – ironic: first the monitor picks up contractions that I don’t feel; then when I do feel the contractions, the monitor doesn’t. Grrr.) I sat that way as long as I could, but getting increasingly uncomfortable. She let me shift after a while (I was about to get mean, I think, so I’m glad she was nice about it.) About 7:30 my mom stopped in. We talked a bit – I can’t remember about what. Things were getting a bit stronger – D would help me breathe through each one. Not too bad. But getting more so. They checked me and I was still only dilated 2-3 cm. About 9:00 I asked for something to take the edge off – they gave me Stadol. The nurse said "this will make you feel drunk" – and it did. Of course, when I get drunk, I fall asleep, so that’s basically what happened – I would zone out in between, and then say, "Oh, here comes one" and breathe through it, and then zonk back out. But by about 10:00, it was wearing off, and the contractions were definitely getting much stronger. A few left me near tears. My mom had to leave at this point – she actually had a social obligation, but she also couldn’t handle watching me in pain. And she did not want to be there for delivery – we all kind felt that was reserved for just D and I. So she left, about the time we were discussing the possibility of an epidural. I am totally grossed out by the very thought of epidurals. Ohmygods, someone puts something into the space around your spinal column. Ick. Awful. But I couldn’t let myself go there mentally. I was not progressing too fast, I had hours left, and I was starting to feel worn out already. I didn’t want to wear myself out just dilating up to 5 or 6…. So, I said yes, especially when they came in and checked me and I was still just at 4. Okay, great! Progress! But 1 cm an hour would mean…. 6 more hours, and I wouldn’t make it. Because at this point, nearly every single one left me near to tears and breaking. So, we said yes. In retrospect, that was absolutely the best decision. So the anesthesiologist got there a bit after 11:00, and we started the whole process (they insert a catheter into your back, and then tape it to you...). He hung out for a bit talking while we waited for it to take effect. Pins and needles, mostly – it interferes with the pain receptors, basically, but you still feel pressure, and can still move your legs around. They said they’d have to put a catheter in my bladder, but we could wait for a bit (lucky – because it turned out they never did!). By 11:30 this was all done, and they checked my cervix again. Lo and behold, I was an *8* approaching a 9! Turns out that sometimes the epidural relaxes you enough that everything can just move forward. By 12 noon, the nurse was telling me how the pushing process works: you wait for a contraction, and then breathe in and out, then breathe in and hold it while pushing for a count of 10, and then two more times. (So 3 counts of 10 for pushing each time.) Her description – very apt – was, "It’s like the biggest bowel movement you’ve ever had, and those are the right muscles to use." So we started pushing – about noon or 12:15ish. The doctor was actually next door, having just delivered a baby at 11-something – when we started it was just the nurse and D and I. D says the doc was only there the last 20 minutes or so, though I thought it was longer. We’d just hang out, and then I’d tell them a contraction was coming, and I’d breathe and push, and D counted. It didn’t hurt exactly – just lots of pressure. And of course, the full-body effort of pushing was tiring. It didn’t take long for them to start seeing the head – the nurse had me reach down and touch it (and I could feel the hair). With each push, they (nurse and D) told me how great I was doing and how much progress there was, and that helped amazingly. I couldn’t have done it if I hadn’t felt things were going somewhere. Shortly after the doctor came in, they converted my hospital bed into the delivery bed, and he was down there, and each time, I could feel the head. Seriously, just like the biggest bowel movement you’ve ever had, such a good description – and in between pushes, I could feel the uncomfortable pressure of something (the head, of course) there midway through. So, at 1:15 the head cleared, and everything just slipped out. The doctor turned her (and you could see that it was a her) and clamped the sky-blue umbilical cord. D cut it (not squeamish at all!). They wiped her off a tiny bit, and then put her on my chest. It seems unbelievable – even having watched her *come out* – that this was the same being who has been kicking me from the inside all these months. While she was still on my chest, the doctor said to push for the placenta, and I did, barely noticing it. Then I did notice that he was stitching me up. Apparently I tore (vaginally, not perineally) – D said I was bleeding reasonably well for a bit – though of course I hadn’t felt it. Nor did I feel the stitches. People always say how gross-looking the placenta is, but we both thought it was really cool. I didn’t get a good look, but I saw it when the doctor was checking it, and I thought it looked somewhat like a bloody mushroom – the consistency/look of a shiitake, perhaps, though more the size of a portobello. At some point in all this, my mother showed up, and she called my dad. The nurses took the baby over to the corner and measured and weighed etc etc. Gave her back to me, all bundled up. At some point they asked if we wanted to try and breastfeed – of course – so we started figuring that out (okay, where does *her* arm go? How do I hold her? Etc.) and my dad showed up. It was after he got there, I think, that D and I got around to her name – looked at each other, and said "Well? Does it work?" and agreed that we’d stick with our chosen name. Of course, as the epidural wore off, the soreness started to set in – everything in that region is swollen bruised or torn/stitched. By Tuesday I could sit again, but not that first day or so. (It’s still a little uncomfortable – on Thursday – but manageable. I can sit, though well-padded chairs are much preferred.)

We were able to stay in the hospital till Tuesday midday, which was fabulous. The first night we had her with us half the night (this is a rooming in facility) – but I had had no sleep since early Saturday morning, so we had them take her out for a while, so I could sleep. They brought her back to nurse, but I still got a few solid hours here and there. Monday night – her second night – we kept her with us, and that was harder. She is very fussy, particularly at night. Of course, she’s more awake at night too, being all turned around, and so we didn’t get much sleep, even trying to take shifts. Monday and Tuesday during the day were full of the different lactation consultants and doctors and nurses coming through, giving advice on calming fussy babies and breastfeeding and all those things. The pediatrician pronounced her "perfect". We go back for a follow-up peds appointment today, actually.

At home, we can truly take shifts – and that’s how we’ve been handling nights, in 2 or 3 hour blocks. Feeding is still a little tricky – she gets very fussy, often, but we’re learning a few tricks, and as my milk comes in it should theoretically get easier. So they tell me anyway. We bought a sling, and that’s been the most fabulous part. As I have been typing this, she’s fast asleep in there, and I have both hands free. Of course, she doesn’t much like sleeping by herself away from us yet – some kind of body contact is necessary, basically. Eventually we’ll get her to sleep in her crib for more than half an hour. And as time goes on, I’m sure the feedings will get easier too.

Yup, she’s pretty adorable. Not red or wrinkly, and does not look like Winston Churchill. Consensus on who she looks like? My mom and sister are the top vote getters (I agree, especially her mouth and nose). I think her eyes look a bit like me. And some people (the nurses, my mom) think they can see D. So – she’ll be a lovely amalgamation of all of us, just as it should be.

Definitely exhausted, definitely running on adrenalin still. But we’re making it. :)

Comments

[journeywoman.livejournal.com]

So – she'll be a lovely amalgamation of all of us, just as it should be.
How sweet!

At 3.5 months, Evan still prefers sleeping with somebody, but the last few weeks he's been willing to sleep in his bassinet at night without waking up and demanding to see whoever's in charge around here. The crib during the day is still a challenge, but we're getting there.

Some friends and I agree that the first six weeks are the hardest--figuring out the nursing thing, getting the baby onto the daytime-is-playtime/nighttime-is-sleeptime schedule, etc. And I was ravenous for the first postpartum month. But oh! it was so nice to have my bladder back at its proper size!

Congratulations again! You and galagan will do just fine--and once baby E gets used to being on the outside, everything will be so much easier.

[saltcod.livejournal.com]

Thanks for sharing that. I admit, the bloody mushroom placenta description (a shiitake? ewww! of course I don't like mushrooms anyhow) gave my tummy a bit of a flip-flop despite my general comfort level with icky medical things... but otherwise, how cool, and lovely, and I'm glad that ultimately it was a good experience for all of you.

The picture of you typing with her cradled against you... beautiful. :)

[trope.livejournal.com]

Whew. Wow. That is the most complete and concrete description of a birth that I've ever read--far beyond most mothers' stories that just say, "It was awful" or "It was wonderful". As someone who's never had a baby, I feel like I know a little more about it now.

Good for you, Mom. And good for D., too, as it sounds like he was excellent help. Get your rest now, all three of you!

[kassrachel.livejournal.com]

This is *so cool* -- thank you for sharing all of this. I find the prospect of labor completely terrifying, but I'm glad to hear the epidural was the right call.

Yay! Baby! w00t!

[cycon.livejournal.com]

Labor is only terrifying because the medical profession decided to get involved. This is the source of the overwhelming majority of horror stories on the subject.

[kassrachel.livejournal.com]

Your point is well-taken, but I still find labor scary, independent of whatever drama is added by medical horror stories. I'm scared of pain, so what I find terrifying is the prospect of birthing a baby -- as my body's currently configured it sounds like a physical impossibility. *g* I recognize that should I ever be in that position my body would adapt to fit the need, but it still sounds unbelievably overwhelming, physically. (So mad props to kcobweb for handling it with such equanimity!)

[kcobweb.livejournal.com]

Oh, it was still plenty terrifying. Don't get me wrong.

I say, thank the gods for medical intervention, because I'm not sure how I would have managed without it.

[sylvantechie.livejournal.com]

Wow, and congrats!

[wavyarms.livejournal.com]

Thank you for sharing! What a fascinating story. And congratulations again!

[cycon.livejournal.com]

The thing is, they wanted me to be in labor by 6 hours after the time my water broke, so we had a "deadline" of 4 a.m.
*low growl*
*Basingstoke it is*

I'm glad that Elena was born healthy and without much extra trauma, and I look forward to countless pictures and ballads of her adventures. :) This is where the real fun begins.

[ltlbird.livejournal.com]

Thanks for such a vivid account. Sounds like things went very well, and you guys seem off to a great start.

Personally, I can totally understand why she wouldn't want to sleep away from you. For all those months, your heartbeat and movements kept her company in the warm darkness. Being out in the world with entirely new sights, sounds, smells, tastes, etc. must be totally overwhelming. Kind of like being dropped in the middle of Mongolia without money or a phrase book - I'd sure as heck be cranky and clingy! :)

[megastoat.livejournal.com]

thanks for sharing all the details -- it's good to have a little more insight into that process! as well as being good to hear how well it all went for you guys!

Wonderful story!

[(Anonymous)]

Thanks for all the beautiful and gory details! I, too, had to go the Pitocin route. My water started to leak slowly, and I waited about 24 hours to even TELL my doctor, lest she induce me. Finally, we did, and it was actually fine...except for the nasty nurse who kept hassling me every time I moved. :(

My plan for this second time around is to spend the first couple weeks after birth pretty much bedridden. My midwife recommends this because she thinks it forces moms to sleep during the day more. I didn't do that at all, which, of course, meant that I started motherhood WAY behind on sleep. It's tough to ever catch up, so start trying when you can. (Easier said than done, I know.)

Best of luck with EVERYTHING. It DOES get easier...and then harder...and then easier...then harder...but it's always mixed with plenty of amazing, love-and-awe-inspiring stuff, too. Makes up for the sleep deprivation (says the mom whose 2-year-old spent 5:30-6 this morning shouting, "Mom, it's light! Mom, it's light!") ;)

Gillie