Yawn. Probably only five or six of my blog readers will actually care about this. My mom being one of the five. However, for me it's sweet and cathartic to relive some of the crazy details.
My due date was always a little hazy. My OBs office had December 6th in their chart and the specialists office listed December 10th (we started seeing a specialist around week 30 because Elizabeth was measuring really small on the growth charts). Pace was on a cushy hospital rotation from the middle of November through December 9th--and the St. Louis weather was AHHhhmazing-- so I was incredibly anxious to have her before one of her two due dates. Around week 38, Pace and I started walking everywhere-- malls, neighborhoods, parks, etc. I read and tried just about every wives tale around ( yes, I drank a whole bottle of apple cider vinegar) and nothing seemed to speed the delivery of my sweet Elizabeth.
On the night of December 5th, I finally surrendered to the fact that I was not in control and no amount of walking, bouncing on balls or stairs would speed the process. I had a scheduled 40 week doctors appointment on December 6th and since E seemed to be doing just fine in womb, I assumed the appointment would be quick and painless and they'd send me out the door to continue carrying my baby.
We woke up on the morning of the 6th to several inches of snow and nasty road conditions. Pace--who was scheduled to work and was not planning to go to the doctor with me-- decided to go into work a little later than normal so that I didn't have to drive myself out to West County. We arrived at the Specialists office (inside the Hospital) for our 9:00 appointment where the ultra sound technician did a routine scan to check E's heartbeat, breathing and fluid levels. I'd already had at least 10 scans at this point and knew what to expect... so when the ultrasound technician left the room for ten minutes I started getting really nervous.
She came back to our room with a male physician who I'd never met before. He sat down and delivered the news-- we were going to have a baby that day! Now one might think that my immediate reaction would be an outpour of joy or excitement... however, I immediately started crying. Pace, my more level-headed, rationale better-half, began drilling the physician with medical questions. The doctor had terrible bedside manner and was not able to clearly articulate why it was so important that we be induced that day. The doctor who delivered the news was not my OB and did not realize that Pace and I really wanted to have a natural delivery and had prepared for months for our ideal labor. The physician was very impatient and ushered us down to the Labor and Delivery floor of the hospital.
When we arrived at the front desk of L&D, the triage nurse asked why we were on the floor. Still crying, the only response I could muster up was, "I don't know". We decided at that point to wait in the lobby until I could speak to my OB. My OB-- who I really love-- is incredibly level-headed explained that (to make a really long story short) due to the way Elizabeth presented on the ultra sound today that they thought she'd do better outside the womb.
We still weren't excited about the idea of being medically induced-- but did not want to go against what was being medically recommended and ultimately decided we wanted a healthy baby. Once back in the ward, the nurse on duty placed me on a regulated intravenous pump of Pitocin. Pitocin is a synthetic form of the "natural hormone oxytocin which stimulates the gravid uterus to contract." Pitocin or "Pit" is a common drug used in hospitals. At this point, I was not on any pain medication and was able to freely walk around the room and the hall of the hospital. For 16 hours (maybe 17?!), I bounced on the medicine ball, did laps on the hall, did EVERYTHING I could possibly do to encourage labor. I was also receiving increasing amounts of pit (up to 24 milliunit/min) but labor was still not progressing. After 17 hours, they checked me again and I was only 2 CM dilated (for those of you unfamiliar with the labor process, your goal is to get to 10 CM). Receiving this news felt like such a set-back. I was so exhausted from the hours I spent being so active, the contractions and lack of food (because you cannot eat!).
My doctor suggested I get my water broken. Pace and I were very hesitant all along to have my water artificially broken--because once your water is broken, you are in some ways put on a timeline for delivery. It puts your baby at great risk for bacteria if you do not deliver within 24 hours of your water breaking. Because of the "timeline", we knew that if I had my water broken, I was much more likely to have to get a C-section... which for many reasons, I really did not want to get. We did not take this decision lightly, and after spending some time praying about it-- we decided this step was our best option. The physician on call at the hospital broke my water and IMMEDIATELY I started having intense contractions. The pain was the most intense pain I've ever experienced and occurred about every 1-2 minutes. At this point, I decided it was time to have an epidural.
About 20 minutes later, the anesthesiologist came into my room and administered the epidural. We discussed my desire to want to be apart of the birthing process and he agreed to give me a "light' epidural. Unfortunately, it did not take at all on my right side, and I had to have a second epidural about an hour later.
Fast forward to hour 35, still no sleep... no food... Pace and I were absolutely exhausted. Our amazing nurse Shelia kept me motivated until the very end. The last hour, my OB drove in to the hospital to be with me during the active part of labor. My epidural left me a little numb, but I still had range of my legs and was able to push and feel my contractions. They let Pace coach me on breathing and he was by my side motivating me to push. At this point, it really did feel like the end of a very long marathon race. I got a "kick" of energy and exerted everything I had into getting her out of me (Afterwards, everyone commented on how committed I was).
Finally, I got to hold my sweet girl. I'd like to say I heard bells and symphony music, but to be honest-- I was so physically tired that the nurse had to assist me while I held her. The next hour was a bit of a blur, but I sort of remember doing skin to skin and breast feeding.
Two weeks later, I still have a lot of resentment about my delivery. I am still dealing with lingering physical issues from having an induced labor (I can privately discuss those with friends who are considering birth options). I am not mad at my OB or the nurses-- I genuinely think they are fantastic and did a great job. Most of my frustration is with the American healthcare system and how America views birth. I think too many babies are medically induced for marginal issues. I will spare you my soapbox-- or at least save it for a rainy day.
My due date was always a little hazy. My OBs office had December 6th in their chart and the specialists office listed December 10th (we started seeing a specialist around week 30 because Elizabeth was measuring really small on the growth charts). Pace was on a cushy hospital rotation from the middle of November through December 9th--and the St. Louis weather was AHHhhmazing-- so I was incredibly anxious to have her before one of her two due dates. Around week 38, Pace and I started walking everywhere-- malls, neighborhoods, parks, etc. I read and tried just about every wives tale around ( yes, I drank a whole bottle of apple cider vinegar) and nothing seemed to speed the delivery of my sweet Elizabeth.
On the night of December 5th, I finally surrendered to the fact that I was not in control and no amount of walking, bouncing on balls or stairs would speed the process. I had a scheduled 40 week doctors appointment on December 6th and since E seemed to be doing just fine in womb, I assumed the appointment would be quick and painless and they'd send me out the door to continue carrying my baby.
We woke up on the morning of the 6th to several inches of snow and nasty road conditions. Pace--who was scheduled to work and was not planning to go to the doctor with me-- decided to go into work a little later than normal so that I didn't have to drive myself out to West County. We arrived at the Specialists office (inside the Hospital) for our 9:00 appointment where the ultra sound technician did a routine scan to check E's heartbeat, breathing and fluid levels. I'd already had at least 10 scans at this point and knew what to expect... so when the ultrasound technician left the room for ten minutes I started getting really nervous.
She came back to our room with a male physician who I'd never met before. He sat down and delivered the news-- we were going to have a baby that day! Now one might think that my immediate reaction would be an outpour of joy or excitement... however, I immediately started crying. Pace, my more level-headed, rationale better-half, began drilling the physician with medical questions. The doctor had terrible bedside manner and was not able to clearly articulate why it was so important that we be induced that day. The doctor who delivered the news was not my OB and did not realize that Pace and I really wanted to have a natural delivery and had prepared for months for our ideal labor. The physician was very impatient and ushered us down to the Labor and Delivery floor of the hospital.
When we arrived at the front desk of L&D, the triage nurse asked why we were on the floor. Still crying, the only response I could muster up was, "I don't know". We decided at that point to wait in the lobby until I could speak to my OB. My OB-- who I really love-- is incredibly level-headed explained that (to make a really long story short) due to the way Elizabeth presented on the ultra sound today that they thought she'd do better outside the womb.
We still weren't excited about the idea of being medically induced-- but did not want to go against what was being medically recommended and ultimately decided we wanted a healthy baby. Once back in the ward, the nurse on duty placed me on a regulated intravenous pump of Pitocin. Pitocin is a synthetic form of the "natural hormone oxytocin which stimulates the gravid uterus to contract." Pitocin or "Pit" is a common drug used in hospitals. At this point, I was not on any pain medication and was able to freely walk around the room and the hall of the hospital. For 16 hours (maybe 17?!), I bounced on the medicine ball, did laps on the hall, did EVERYTHING I could possibly do to encourage labor. I was also receiving increasing amounts of pit (up to 24 milliunit/min) but labor was still not progressing. After 17 hours, they checked me again and I was only 2 CM dilated (for those of you unfamiliar with the labor process, your goal is to get to 10 CM). Receiving this news felt like such a set-back. I was so exhausted from the hours I spent being so active, the contractions and lack of food (because you cannot eat!).
My doctor suggested I get my water broken. Pace and I were very hesitant all along to have my water artificially broken--because once your water is broken, you are in some ways put on a timeline for delivery. It puts your baby at great risk for bacteria if you do not deliver within 24 hours of your water breaking. Because of the "timeline", we knew that if I had my water broken, I was much more likely to have to get a C-section... which for many reasons, I really did not want to get. We did not take this decision lightly, and after spending some time praying about it-- we decided this step was our best option. The physician on call at the hospital broke my water and IMMEDIATELY I started having intense contractions. The pain was the most intense pain I've ever experienced and occurred about every 1-2 minutes. At this point, I decided it was time to have an epidural.
About 20 minutes later, the anesthesiologist came into my room and administered the epidural. We discussed my desire to want to be apart of the birthing process and he agreed to give me a "light' epidural. Unfortunately, it did not take at all on my right side, and I had to have a second epidural about an hour later.
Fast forward to hour 35, still no sleep... no food... Pace and I were absolutely exhausted. Our amazing nurse Shelia kept me motivated until the very end. The last hour, my OB drove in to the hospital to be with me during the active part of labor. My epidural left me a little numb, but I still had range of my legs and was able to push and feel my contractions. They let Pace coach me on breathing and he was by my side motivating me to push. At this point, it really did feel like the end of a very long marathon race. I got a "kick" of energy and exerted everything I had into getting her out of me (Afterwards, everyone commented on how committed I was).
Finally, I got to hold my sweet girl. I'd like to say I heard bells and symphony music, but to be honest-- I was so physically tired that the nurse had to assist me while I held her. The next hour was a bit of a blur, but I sort of remember doing skin to skin and breast feeding.
Two weeks later, I still have a lot of resentment about my delivery. I am still dealing with lingering physical issues from having an induced labor (I can privately discuss those with friends who are considering birth options). I am not mad at my OB or the nurses-- I genuinely think they are fantastic and did a great job. Most of my frustration is with the American healthcare system and how America views birth. I think too many babies are medically induced for marginal issues. I will spare you my soapbox-- or at least save it for a rainy day.
Ultimately, I have to be thankful for a healthy baby. Elizabeth is a sweet, beautiful little gift. I am also grateful that Pace was able to go to the Doctor with me that day-- I can't imagine receiving that news alone. I am also thankful that E has Pace as a dad. I knew I married well... But over the past 18 days, my heart and love for him has grown immeasurably. He is such a wonderful father and husband and has been so supportive during my recovery process.
