Welcome to the World

Baby G entered the world six days ago on July 6, 2010 at 7:55am (although some say 8:00). He weighed 8lbs 2oz and was 21 inches. This is the story of his birth. As most of my disclaimers go, if you don't like stories with a little blood and bodily fluids, this story might not be for you. Having a baby is a messy ordeal. It's also a long one.

As previously mentioned, the Thursday before I went into the hospital, I had my membranes stripped. Although that produced contractions, cramping and spotting it didn't seem to really get anything going. That Saturday I lost my mucus plug. Again, nothing. On Sunday I woke up feeling a bit off. Although they say you can't feel high blood pressure I'm pretty sure "they" are wrong. I started using my home blood pressure monitor that morning and was slightly concerned to see numbers like 140/94. When I stayed reclined it went down to 134/84 so I decided to just wait it out. Sunday came and went and on Monday I continued to feel off with a slight headache. Uh oh... Out came the blood pressure monitor. The numbers continued to be worrisome so I put in a call to the OB. No answer. I called again. No answer. In between calls I continued to monitor myself. At one point my blood pressure spiked to 160/99 then to 150/102. Panic started to set in. It was then that it dawned on me that the office might be closed (thanks a lot 4th of July weekend!). Immediately I put in a call to the after hours answering service. Sure enough the office was closed and I would have to wait for Dr. M. to give me a call back. After an hour of waiting and worrying, Dr. M. finally called. She wanted me to head to L&D for another NST, but said we should bring our bags just in case she decided to keep us. Husband and I calmly began the process of gathering our belongings. Although there was an air of excitement we managed to keep it together. We had been here before, ready for an induction only to be sent home. We were both hoping this time would be different.

Upon arriving at the hospital at 4:15, we were led back to a room where the nurse immediately said that she was ready to begin the process of admitting us. Wait, what? We're being admitted right away? What about the NST? Apparently after speaking with me on the phone Dr. M. decided she wanted to just go ahead and keep us there as my blood pressure was just too dangerous. At that point the excitement turned into a small bubble of panic. This was it. An induction was happening. We weren't going home. We were going to have a baby, soon! As soon as the word induction was spoken a flurry of activity began around me. I was ushered into the bathroom to change into their beautiful hospital attire and then was sent straight to the bed. Out came the monitors, wires, needles and tubes. It was like a fascinating science experiment as we listened to the beeping of the monitors and woosh woosh woosh of little G-man's heart. I was checked by the nurse to find that I was still 3cm dilated but now 80% effaced. Immediately an IV was placed and fluids were being pushed into my system. They started the Pitocin (a drug used to intensify and regularize contractions) at 6:00pm on the lowest dose possible. I have heard horror stories about this drug so I was a bit worried about trying it myself, but obviously at this point I had no choice. At some point around then my parent arrived to offer their support. By 6:45 my contractions were becoming somewhat crampy, but not unbearable by any means. The excitement in the air was palpable.

By 8:00pm I was still feeling in good spirits and was more concerned with whether or not ABC would be broadcasting The Bachelorette as usual (the channel hadn't been working for over an hour) and if we would get to see the great Jake and Vienna showdown. Apparently the nurses in that hospital don't like to see laboring women in good spirits though because at 8:00pm, after a cervical check revealing I was 4cm dilated, they decided to increase my Pitocin. As they increased it they explained that Dr. M. would be coming at 9:00 (after she put her kids to bed) to break my water and they wanted to offer me an epidural as a sort of preemptive strike. Dr. M. has repeatedly said that she suspected that I would have more pain during labor than others because of my history with endometriosis. Although both Husband and the nurse seemed to think this was a good idea I declined the epidural and decided to try it on my own. As I watched the nurse increase my Pitocin my resolve weakened, but at that point it was too late, the decision had been made.

Luckily ABC pulled through and The Bachelorette came on. Unfortunately, I only remember about the first 20 minutes of the show. The increased dose of Pitocin immediately started to take effect. The pain from the contractions increased to something I find difficult to describe. Like the worst cramps you can imagine combined with a 300lb man standing on your lower back. Husband was amazing. He rubbed my back and told me to breathe. He held me when I cried and advocated for me when I couldn't do it myself. The pain increased and I began to writhe around in the hospital bed. At this point my memory gets a little hazy. I remember nurses coming in and out, my parents were there and then left to go to the waiting room. At one point I begged the nurse to let me out of the bed even though my blood pressure was still high. They finally acquiesced and I was allowed to stand at the side of my bed. Husband held me and swayed back and forth through the contractions. Eventually the pain, and my blood pressure, got out of control and I was forced back into the bed.

At 9:00pm Dr. M. arrived to break my water. After inserting a long yellow crochet hook (not really, but it looked like one) a hot gush of fluid came pouring out. Interesting sensation. Dr. M left and I started waiting. Almost immediately the contractions intensified. The nurses were fond of asking me to rate my pain on a scale of 1-10. At that point my pain went from a 6 or a 7 to a 9 or 10. I felt like I couldn't breathe the pain was so intense. Desperate to relieve the pain, I tried to get up again. As I stood up, hot fluid started running down my leg and puddled on the floor around me. In a contraction haze I was sure I was peeing on myself. "Oh my God!!! I'm peeing!!! Oh my God! I'm actually peeing on myself!!" I looked at Husband in horror. I was somewhere in the middle of laughing and crying. Forgetting that I would still be leaking amniotic fluid, we paged the nurse to help clean up the pee. "Um, we seem to be having some sort of urine problem..." Husband said over the intercom. I can only imagine the giggles at the nurses station. A urine problem.

Eventually the pain became so unbearable that I gave in and requested the epidural. In the meantime they gave me narcotic called Fentinol to help ease the pain. I swear, as soon as the needle hit the IV I was gone. Staring up at the ceiling I felt like I was being pushed down the hall watching the lights pass over me. My brain was a thick foggy mess of pea soup, but my pain had subsided. At one point my mom came to the side of the bed and asked me how I was feeling. I told her about the drugs and she said, "So, are you feeling... special?" Special was just the right word. I've never felt so special.

Sadly that "special" feeling wasn't meant to last. Within twenty minutes the medication started to wear off and I was feeling the full force of the contractions again. Fortunately, Dr. S., the beloved anesthesiologist appeared at my door soon after. In he walked with his cart o' magic. I was forced to sit up (excruciating) but as he numbed my back I didn't care. In fact he could have given me the epidural without the numbing medication and I would have been happy. He and the nurse started chatting away, completely ignoring me as I writhed in pain. Presumably they were actually doing things to prepare but to me, the woman with a baby coming out of her, all I heard was their discussions of their vacations and his hurt foot. I wanted to yell at them to shut the f@$# up, but controlled myself. Finally Dr. S. got his S--- together and started the procedure. Husband stood in front of me as Dr. S poked a catheter into the epidural space of my spine. Sharp twinge. Where did you feel the pain? The left side. Another sharp twinge. OK, where did you feel the pain this time. The right side. Hmmmm. Hmmmmmm?? What does, "hmmmm" mean?? No "hmmmms" please, just do your job! Take my pain away! Later he told me he had only had one other woman ever tell him they could feel the twinge on both sides. I still don't know what that means.

After the epidural was finally in place, Dr. S. and the nurse sat back and continued to chat. I continued to writhe in pain. With each contraction Dr. S. asked me to rate my contraction. It's a nine! OK, great. Back to chatting up the nurse. Mooooaaaaan. How about that one? Still a nine! Great, and this one? A NINE!!! A big fat freaking NINE!!!!!!! Hmmmm. I wanted to yell at him to quit "hmmming" and do his job, but again I restrained myself. Eventually he got up from his chair and went over to his cart of magic. He pulled out a clear vial of liquid and injected it into the catheter. Relief, oh sweet relief. It started with a numbness in my right foot and then slowly moved all over my lower half. I felt completely numb from the waist down. I'm pretty sure I will never forget the sensation of seeing nurses move my legs and not being able to feel them moving.

With the relief of the epidural, Husband and I decided it was time to try to get some sleep. My parents decided they would also go out to their car and try to get some rest of their own. Throughout the night I was checked on by the nurses, but mostly Husband and I just slept. At one point I began to feel a sharp pain in my right side. I told the nurse and she decided to turn me to the other side as the epidural often works with gravity and most of the medicine was being delivered to my left side. Eventually the pain disappeared and I drifted off to sleep. At around 6:00am my nurse returned to check me. Husband stood up to hold my hand as she did the look of shock on the nurses face said it all. She informed me that I was 10cm and I was ready. She said that the baby's head was "right there," as in she could see his hair. As she went off to call Dr. M., Husband ran off to inform my parents we were almost ready. Unfortunately the nurse returned and said that because I was still so numb (it felt like my legs were dead) the doctor wanted me to "labor down." Basically I was forced to sit up so that the epidural would ease off and I would be able to feel my contractions. Boy did I feel them! I remember I kept thinking "Why are they doing this to me? Why are they making me hurt again??" As I labored down, the room began to buzz around me. Huge overhead lights were turned on, the bed was dismantled, stirrups were attached and large drop cloths were draped everywhere.

That's when the panic began to set in. This was it. I was going to have to do this. The baby was going to come out and I had to get it out. Overwhelmed I started to cry. Normally when I cry Husband melts and tries to comfort me. This time he was strong. He held me firmly and told me to "get a grip!" Stunned, all I could do was laugh. His words shocked me out of hysteria and into laughter. Although I was still feeling a bit panicked I knew we could do it. Dr. M. finally arrived at 7:30 and as they scrubbed me down they told me that his head was practically coming out on its own. With each contraction he moved down a little on his own. They told me that on my next contraction they wanted me to take a deep cleansing breath and then breathe in and push as hard as I could. Of course it was then that the contractions seemed to stop. We all sat in silence, wait, wait, wait.

Finally the first contraction hit. I pushed with all of my might. It was only then that my pain stopped and I could feel a burst of energy. I don't know where it came from, but I just knew how to push. Everyone around me coached me and encouraged me. Husband counted for me and told me to "pushpushpush!" The nurses breathed with me and the doctor told me I could do it. After three more contractions they grabbed an oxygen mask and through the fatigue I heard another nurse tell me that I had been doing a great job, but that on the next contraction they needed me to push as hard as I could. I needed to get the baby out (later I would find out the the baby's heart rate had dropped dramatically), Dr. M. said that she might do a "little episiotomy" if I didn't get the baby out on the next contraction. Not wanting to be cut open I felt inspired. With the next contraction I pushed four times and out my beautiful baby came. I heard a small cry come from down by the doctor and for the first time saw my son. They handed him over to me, placing his wet little body on my chest. The emotions were overwhelming. Husband and I kissed and cried over the joy of our little boy. He was here. After fourteen weeks of bed rest, stress and fear our beautiful boy was safe in our arms.

As we soaked in the love and joy, the doctor continued to deliver my afterbirth (not really fun), sew me up (hello 3rd degree tear!) and discovered little G-man had managed to tie a true knot in his umbilical cord. A phenomenon that happens in less than 1% of pregnancies and could have potentially been fatal. Our miracle truly was a miracle. He had survived preterm labor, high blood pressure, a dropped heart rate and a true knot in his cord. He was healthy and strong and he now he is ours.