We are home! And I can finally blog! LOL! Gah. That was so frustrating at the hospital!

SO anyway... the birth story. It's a long one.

We went in for the induction at 9a.m. They got me settled into the room and things immediately starting going BADLY. Thankfully, they started looking up later in the day, but the beginning of it all? Not so great.

First, the nurse went to start my iv for fluids. It took three tries. Ouch. But finally, they got it and that was fine.

Then, she went to hook me up to the monitors and asked me where they usually find the heartbeat. I pointed to the bottom left of my belly because that's where it ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS was at every single appointment. No heartbeat. She shuffled it around my belly.... all over my belly... NO heartbeat. She couldn't hide her concern and it wasn't like I couldn't figure out what she was worried about. She asked me calmly if I had been feeling the baby move... I said yes, he'd been moving that morning but then realized I couldn't remember feeling him move since we'd been at the hospital. She remained pretty calm (unlike me) and kept looking. FINALLY found it very faintly HIGH in my right side. She commented it was odd that it would be so high, but not to worry because it wasn't as high up as it could be so everything was *probably* okay, but she needed to call in the hospital midwife just to double check the baby's position. I laughed it off because my doctor had just reconfirmed at my appointment two days prior that he was head down.

Enter, the evil midwife. I knew as soon as she came in the room that she and I were NOT going to like each other. There are midwives that are warm and touchy feely and then there are these old biddy stick-in-the-mood "it's the natural way or the highway" midwives. She was the latter.

We got off on the wrong foot when she asked me if there was a medical reason I was being induced. THere wasn't... it really was for convenience-sake. She clearly didn't like that. Then she did an exam and couldn't feel the baby's head. She gave me a look that said she was sure the baby was breech. Then she felt my belly and couldn't feel the head down low.... another less than encouraging look. She announced she was going to go get the ultrasound machine but that this probably wasn't going to go the way I wanted it to. She left the room and I burst into tears. The nurse tried to reassure me -- "Don't give up, it might not be.... very rare for a baby to flip once you start feeling contractions.... there's still a chance..." At this point, I started wondering if this was a sign I just was NOT supposed to be doing this that day.

The midwife returned with the ultrasound machine and again basically told me not to get my hopes up. She plopped the probe on my belly and bam, on the screen popped up a big old head right down where it was supposed to be. I cried some more, this time out of sheer relief. She made some comments about the baby's position and why the heartbeat was high... he was in some really strange, sort of twisted position lying up against my right side.

I stopped her and asked her straight out if I should be doing this.... oh yeah, I totally asked for it. She said she didn't think I was very favorable... only dilated to 1.5 and not effaced much, head up SO high. She said in her practice she lets women with stats like mine go several days overdue before even considering an induction.... but that it was my doctor's and my decision to make... but that it would be a VERY VERY long process. yada blah blah. Then she left. I cried some more and called her some names.

I asked the nurse if I should just cut my losses and go home to wait it out. She encouraged me to talk it over with my doctor, so she called her. At this point it was 10:30 and time was ticking away... my doctor showed up, did an exam and was clearly irritated at the midwife's evaluation and management of the situation. She said I had already dilated a bit more on my own and the head was NOT as high as the midwife had made it out to be when she talked to her. I asked her if I should still go through with it and she said that she did NOT want me to feel pushed into it or scared... that it was totally my choice. Yes, there was NO guarantee I wouldn't end up with a c-section, but that she felt very positive and had done plenty of inductions on women with my stats. Ultimately, we decided together that since I was already there and hooked up, we'd give it a a go and she'd wait until much later to break my water because up until that point, I could call it quits and go home. I asked her what to expect as far as a delivery time frame and she said, especially since it was 11 and we hadn't started the drip yet, probably 10-11p.m. that evening.

So FINALLY at 11:15, they started the pitocin.

Contractions. Contractions. Contractions.

More exams. Head stayed SUPER high. Very little dilation. The doctor couldn't really ascertain why the head was not descending but seemed confident that the stronger the contractions got, the more it would come down.

Contractions. Contractions. Contractions. Getting worse, but I wanted to hold out on the epidural as long as I could because I didn't want to stall an already very slow labor. The nurse agreed with me. So we took it hour by hour... the doctor was coming back at 4 to break my water, so that was my goal.

Contractions. Contractions. Contractions. Visited with people and eventually managed to fall sleep for a short while from about 1:30-2:15 when I suddenly felt this weird *pop* in my belly. Figured it was a sudden movement from the baby until I felt a little gush of water. I sat up and said, "Crap." Tom looked up from his laptop in the corner, "What's wrong?" he asked. "My water just broke." "Isn't that a good thing?" "No! It means I have to deliver today... no options now." I called the nurse who came in and helped me to the bathroom. INterestingly enough, didn't really feel any more gushes after the first one... this would come into play later.

Because my water broke on its own, my doctor decided to wait a little longer to come back. Somewhere in there, around 3 or so, I think I went ahead and got the epidural. That was a high point of my day. It was my second REALLY good epidural. I could move my legs, but not feel anything else. They upped the pitocin and eventually, I think around 5:15, my doctor showed up to do an exam.

Head STILL in the same position. Gah. I was so deflated and was really feeling like this was not going to end the way I wanted it to. (other than with a healthy baby, of course).

But wait... my doctor also said she could still feel a bag. She asked the nurse for the hook and broke it... an amount of fluid that I swear was equivalent to the Nile River flowed out. "THAT is why the head wasn't coming down!" she exclaimed. Everyone was confident now that things would progress. Hooray!

More contractions, but I couldn't feel them, so life was good. Lots of visitors... tra la la. Right after one of my rounds of visitors, around 6:30, I felt MORE gushing. I called the nurse who was kind of non-chalant about it until she lifted the sheet and saw how much it was. She was SHOCKED. And it JUST. KEPT. COMING. By the way, somewhere in here, I realized I could actually take a deep breath for the first time in months. This went on for QUITE awhile.... I think she changed the absorbent sheet things three or four times.

More flddling with the pitocin. More contractions.

At 7:30, my doctor checked me and I was 5-6, head still a bit high. She noted that the contractions were not strong enough or lasting long enough and suspected it was because the nurses were being too careful with the pitocin. They put in an internal pressure monitor and she jacked the pitocin up a ton and then went to go sleep in the doctor's lounge.

Shortly after, I started feeling a little bit of pain with the contractions, but only in my "bicycle riding region" (as my neighbor phrased it) I told the nurse and she called the anesthesiologist to top off the epidural. After that, I was told to give the topoff 15 minutes to work and then she would call my doctor to check me. It didn't work. AT ALL. In fact, it got much MUCH worse very quickly. I told the nurse and then I said, "I actually think there might be some pressure.... is it POSSIBLE I could have moved that quickly from 6cm?" She said probably not but that she'd call my doctor anyway. While we waited for her, the pain got even worse. "Okay yeah, there is definitely pressure now!" I told her.

My doctor came in around maybe 8:20? I was 8cm. I was also crying and holding onto the bed for dear life. "I think I may need to push." I said, desperately. She told me I could do little pushes to take the edge off. My mom asked if she could go get me ice or something (can't remember what at this point), and the doctor told her no that it was probably going to go really quickly. Meanwhile, people set about getting things ready... the nurse was breaking down the bed and my doctor was taking a PAINFULLY long time getting her scrubs on. Seriously. I am not sure she could have moved any more slowly. "Can I push for real yet? I REALLY REALLY need to push!!!" I cried. FINALLY... she was ready. I think it was about 8:40 at this point?

I don't remember how many times I pushed... but it was through only a handful of contractions. I do remember that it hurt and burned like crazy. This caught me WAY off guard because I felt NOTHING with Simon. (Ben was another story, but I had a crappy epidural with him) The head came out and it felt like FOREVER until she let me push again... cord was around the neck. Then she had to pull him quite a bit with my to get his shoulders out. That also felt like it took forever and there was SO much pressure. Then, at 8:50, he was finally all the way out and OH the relief I felt.

My doctor commented as they put him on my chest, "He's a BIG baby!" Even she was surprised.... she'd been saying all along he'd MAYBE be 7-1/2 pounds.

The nurses weighed him while she delivered the placenta and all that wonderful stuff... which is when we found out that I had just pushed out and 8 pound, 4.6 ounce baby boy. Nearly a solid TWO pounds bigger than Simon was and a pound and a half bigger than Ben. I'm still shocked.

Everything was fine after that. I didn't tear or anything, so recovery has been quick and easy.

I'm so glad it's over and the difference in that delivery from Simon's and all the things that felt like "close calls" (even if they were just perceived that way) sealed the deal for me that this is absolutely my last baby. I told Tom he should feel grateful it wasn't as easy as Simon's birth. ;)

And with that, I will end this novel of a post. I have more to say about our two days in the hospital and life with our new little guy. BUt I'll save that for later... if you made it this far, congratulations! You're awesome! ;)

Labels: birth