It was late on a Sunday night. As soon as we pulled off Capital Boulevard onto 440, Aaron said, "I didn't want to say anything, but did you realize we hit all green lights on Capital?" (a near impossible feat!)
From there, it was a quick rest of the way to the hospital. We pulled into the parking lot around 9:30pm and Aaron pulled under the drop-off area at the Women's Center. He helped me get the suitcase in and then went to park the van. My mom came in with me, and I signed in.
I could only have one other person come up with me at first until we had a room, so I went up by myself and Aaron would follow shortly behind.
Since I had pre-registered, it was quick process upstairs. Aaron joined me and we were told to wait for a nurse to come out to take us to triage.
When our nurse came out, she ushered us to a triage room and asked me about my experience so far. Once I told her that my water had for sure broken, (I assured her I had gone through about every towel in our laundry room!) she didn't bother making me get hooked up in triage. She had me change into a gown and took us straight to a room. After having to go to triage with Graeme and being sent away, this was a welcome experience. Our nurse's name was Isabel, and she was very nice.
She got me hooked up to the machine that monitored my contractions and Maisy's heartbeat. After my water broke, I hadn't felt Maisy move as much, so it was a relief to hear her strong little heartbeat. I was also having contractions closer together than I could feel. I was only feeling about every other one. After those monitors were strapped on, she put my IV in for when we would eventually need it. Aaron had to turn away. He's pretty squeamish and had already signed my mom up to be in the room for the epidural. Isabel asked me a few more questions and then she finally checked my cervix.
"Well, you're at about one centimeter."
One? Seriously?
Well, that was a bit disheartening.
She told us our moms could come up whenever we wanted them to and encouraged us to walk around the hospital for an hour or so to try to hurry things along a bit.
"See? You should have let me clean more. It would have helped!" I joked with Aaron.
Our moms joined us and we set off to explore the empty, quiet halls of Rex Hospital. It was reminiscent of my labor with Graeme. Aaron and I had walked these halls a couple of hours then as well.
After just a little bit of walking, my contractions had increased in intensity quite a bit. Every time one came around I had to grab onto something (usually Aaron's hand) to help. I'm not very expressive and I remain pretty quiet during pain. But they hurt a lot. My constantly-joking husband helped keep the mood light. He would often try to remind me of the breathing methods from our birthing class with Graeme in an overly-dramatic way.
"No. I'm not going to breathe like that. Stop." I said in return.
An hour passed and I was definitely at the place where walking was becoming out of the question. I gladly returned to the bed and asked for some water. Isabel came back in and hooked me up to the monitors again. I didn't know this or had forgotten, but when your water breaks on its own, they don't check your cervix as often because there is more risk of infection.
I was dying to know what progress, if any, I had made, especially since my contractions hurt a lot more. It was close to midnight when she finally checked again.
"You're at three! That's some pretty good progress for two hours."
I supposed it was. Although I felt that a higher number would have seemed a bit more fair. It would be another few hours until she would check again.
Alas, if this was the pain at three centimeters, I was ready for some sort of relief. I asked Isabel for some pain medication through my IV.
"It might make you a bit loopy..."
I definitely remembered that from last time.
She hooked me up and almost immediately I felt the effects. It definitely didn't take the pain away, but it took my mind off of it quite a bit. And I definitely felt a bit foggy and silly.
Our moms settled in the room with us and we turned on the TV. While scanning the channels, we stumbled on the football game that our dads were watching back at our house. Aaron's parents are huge Green Bay fans and it was the end of the game they were playing. They were losing by a little bit and I suppose there was a slight chance they could tie it up. We let his mom watch for awhile until it was evident they would lose.
In my drugged state it finally occurred to me, "Why am I watching football? While I'm in labor? What is this?"
We all laughed. And then we found something much more suitable to passing time while in pain: Friends.
I was able to sort of drift off between contractions and mostly kept my eyes closed to rest. I had now been awake for almost 24 hours. I really regretted not taking that Sunday afternoon nap. The contractions were still pretty frequent. My breathing would quicken and I would grab onto the bed rail and Aaron's hand tightly each time one would come.
Later my mom and Aaron said I would all of a sudden say really random things every once in awhile. One of them being, "Make sure dad knows to take off Graeme's big coat before he puts him in the carseat." That's a mom I guess. Safety of the kids comes first. Ha.
After about an hour, the IV drugs were not very helpful at all. My mom finally said, "Whitney, why don't you go ahead and ask for the epidural? I can't watch your face anymore!"
We called Isabel and she said she would call the anesthesiologist. Aaron and his mom left the room. Aaron's dad had finally arrived and so his parents kindly went out to get him McDonalds at 1am.
My mom and Isabel helped me sit on the side of the bed. I wasn't looking forward to the process of the epidural, but remembering how much it helped reminded me that it would definitely be worth it. When the anesthesiologist came in, my mom and I both recognized him as the same guy who gave me an epidural for Graeme's delivery. I instantly felt more at ease knowing he did a great job and clearly had done this probably thousands of times since then. And who knows how many times before that.
It was a not fun experience, but it was over quickly, and then I felt a million times better. Aaron came back up with his dinner. His parents were trying to get some sleep downstairs. My mom decided to leave for a couple of hours to set things up in their apartment for Graeme's visit. I was finally able to sleep as well, and it was really, really good sleep surprisingly.
Next thing I knew, Isabel came in to check my cervix again around 3:30am. I couldn't believe I had slept for two hours. This time I had progressed to five centimeters. This actually felt encouraging since I was numb to my contractions and it didn't feel like they should have been doing anything!
I made the comment how when I was in labor for Graeme, I went from five centimeters to ten centimeters in about 30 minutes.
"Well, you never know! But I don't think we will be meeting this baby for a few more hours. You can probably hold out until 8am if you want to when your doctor will come in." (My favorite doctor, the one who delivered Graeme, was supposed to start his shift at 8am on Monday. He had joked with us at our NYE appointment that I should deliver Monday because he would be on call that day.)
While I did like Dr. Anderson a lot, I liked the idea of not being in labor for 5 more hours too.
Isabel had me roll on my side and she put a giant bean-shaped rubber ball between my legs to "simulate squatting" and help the baby drop faster. Around 4am, she left us to rest again.
Well, I quickly realized that my two hours of sleep had come and gone. This position immediately brought back the feeling of my contractions. I suppose it was doing it's job. I asked Aaron for my phone to try to distract myself for awhile. I was able to deal with the contractions for almost an hour when I finally called Aaron's name to wake him up.
He groggily answered.
"Hey. They are pretty bad again. I have a feeling it might be almost time," I told him.
He quickly gathered himself together and called Isabel in the room.
I explained how I was in a lot of pain again. "Does it just feel painful or does it feel like pressure?" she asked.
I currently only felt the pressure of answering her question correctly.
"Ummmm...I don't know. I guess there's some pressure?" I wasn't quite sure and I hate complaining about pain anyway.
"Well, why don't we try some more medicine through your epidural. Give it 15 minutes and then if it doesn't help, I can check your cervix and see where we are."
I agreed to this, and she added the medicine and left the room again at 5am.
More medicine was indeed useless. After 10 minutes, I was even more sure that it was time to have a baby. But then I easily second guessed myself and thought maybe I was just in a lot of pain and the pain would get even worse while I waited until 8am or later. Yuck.
"Do you want me to get her?" asked Aaron.
"Well, it's only five more minutes until it will have been 15 minutes. It's fine. I can wait."
(Yeah, I'm almost positive Maisy would have come five minutes earlier if I didn't have an overwhelming need to not be a bother to people...)
Isabel came back in at 5:15am. "Do you feel any better?"
"No, not really," I confessed.
"Alright, let's check then."
She was quiet for a second while she felt. "Oh! Yeah, you're done. There's the baby's ear. We can get ready to start pushing!"
"Does she have hair?!" I needed to make sure of this.
Isabel laughed. "Yes, I definitely felt some hair."
I was so happy that it was time to have this baby girl that I had been carrying for so long. The same thing happened with Graeme... There's something about that phrase, "It's time to start pushing," that suddenly makes me forget all about being in pain, gives me tons of energy, and makes me so excited. Labor suddenly becomes really fun.
That's probably a really weird thing to say...
And I'm sure a lot of it is the epidural talking.
To be continued...
She told us our moms could come up whenever we wanted them to and encouraged us to walk around the hospital for an hour or so to try to hurry things along a bit.
"See? You should have let me clean more. It would have helped!" I joked with Aaron.
Our moms joined us and we set off to explore the empty, quiet halls of Rex Hospital. It was reminiscent of my labor with Graeme. Aaron and I had walked these halls a couple of hours then as well.
After just a little bit of walking, my contractions had increased in intensity quite a bit. Every time one came around I had to grab onto something (usually Aaron's hand) to help. I'm not very expressive and I remain pretty quiet during pain. But they hurt a lot. My constantly-joking husband helped keep the mood light. He would often try to remind me of the breathing methods from our birthing class with Graeme in an overly-dramatic way.
"No. I'm not going to breathe like that. Stop." I said in return.
An hour passed and I was definitely at the place where walking was becoming out of the question. I gladly returned to the bed and asked for some water. Isabel came back in and hooked me up to the monitors again. I didn't know this or had forgotten, but when your water breaks on its own, they don't check your cervix as often because there is more risk of infection.
I was dying to know what progress, if any, I had made, especially since my contractions hurt a lot more. It was close to midnight when she finally checked again.
"You're at three! That's some pretty good progress for two hours."
I supposed it was. Although I felt that a higher number would have seemed a bit more fair. It would be another few hours until she would check again.
Alas, if this was the pain at three centimeters, I was ready for some sort of relief. I asked Isabel for some pain medication through my IV.
"It might make you a bit loopy..."
I definitely remembered that from last time.
She hooked me up and almost immediately I felt the effects. It definitely didn't take the pain away, but it took my mind off of it quite a bit. And I definitely felt a bit foggy and silly.
Our moms settled in the room with us and we turned on the TV. While scanning the channels, we stumbled on the football game that our dads were watching back at our house. Aaron's parents are huge Green Bay fans and it was the end of the game they were playing. They were losing by a little bit and I suppose there was a slight chance they could tie it up. We let his mom watch for awhile until it was evident they would lose.
In my drugged state it finally occurred to me, "Why am I watching football? While I'm in labor? What is this?"
We all laughed. And then we found something much more suitable to passing time while in pain: Friends.
I was able to sort of drift off between contractions and mostly kept my eyes closed to rest. I had now been awake for almost 24 hours. I really regretted not taking that Sunday afternoon nap. The contractions were still pretty frequent. My breathing would quicken and I would grab onto the bed rail and Aaron's hand tightly each time one would come.
Later my mom and Aaron said I would all of a sudden say really random things every once in awhile. One of them being, "Make sure dad knows to take off Graeme's big coat before he puts him in the carseat." That's a mom I guess. Safety of the kids comes first. Ha.
After about an hour, the IV drugs were not very helpful at all. My mom finally said, "Whitney, why don't you go ahead and ask for the epidural? I can't watch your face anymore!"
We called Isabel and she said she would call the anesthesiologist. Aaron and his mom left the room. Aaron's dad had finally arrived and so his parents kindly went out to get him McDonalds at 1am.
My mom and Isabel helped me sit on the side of the bed. I wasn't looking forward to the process of the epidural, but remembering how much it helped reminded me that it would definitely be worth it. When the anesthesiologist came in, my mom and I both recognized him as the same guy who gave me an epidural for Graeme's delivery. I instantly felt more at ease knowing he did a great job and clearly had done this probably thousands of times since then. And who knows how many times before that.
It was a not fun experience, but it was over quickly, and then I felt a million times better. Aaron came back up with his dinner. His parents were trying to get some sleep downstairs. My mom decided to leave for a couple of hours to set things up in their apartment for Graeme's visit. I was finally able to sleep as well, and it was really, really good sleep surprisingly.
Next thing I knew, Isabel came in to check my cervix again around 3:30am. I couldn't believe I had slept for two hours. This time I had progressed to five centimeters. This actually felt encouraging since I was numb to my contractions and it didn't feel like they should have been doing anything!
I made the comment how when I was in labor for Graeme, I went from five centimeters to ten centimeters in about 30 minutes.
"Well, you never know! But I don't think we will be meeting this baby for a few more hours. You can probably hold out until 8am if you want to when your doctor will come in." (My favorite doctor, the one who delivered Graeme, was supposed to start his shift at 8am on Monday. He had joked with us at our NYE appointment that I should deliver Monday because he would be on call that day.)
While I did like Dr. Anderson a lot, I liked the idea of not being in labor for 5 more hours too.
Isabel had me roll on my side and she put a giant bean-shaped rubber ball between my legs to "simulate squatting" and help the baby drop faster. Around 4am, she left us to rest again.
Well, I quickly realized that my two hours of sleep had come and gone. This position immediately brought back the feeling of my contractions. I suppose it was doing it's job. I asked Aaron for my phone to try to distract myself for awhile. I was able to deal with the contractions for almost an hour when I finally called Aaron's name to wake him up.
He groggily answered.
"Hey. They are pretty bad again. I have a feeling it might be almost time," I told him.
He quickly gathered himself together and called Isabel in the room.
I explained how I was in a lot of pain again. "Does it just feel painful or does it feel like pressure?" she asked.
I currently only felt the pressure of answering her question correctly.
"Ummmm...I don't know. I guess there's some pressure?" I wasn't quite sure and I hate complaining about pain anyway.
"Well, why don't we try some more medicine through your epidural. Give it 15 minutes and then if it doesn't help, I can check your cervix and see where we are."
I agreed to this, and she added the medicine and left the room again at 5am.
More medicine was indeed useless. After 10 minutes, I was even more sure that it was time to have a baby. But then I easily second guessed myself and thought maybe I was just in a lot of pain and the pain would get even worse while I waited until 8am or later. Yuck.
"Do you want me to get her?" asked Aaron.
"Well, it's only five more minutes until it will have been 15 minutes. It's fine. I can wait."
(Yeah, I'm almost positive Maisy would have come five minutes earlier if I didn't have an overwhelming need to not be a bother to people...)
Isabel came back in at 5:15am. "Do you feel any better?"
"No, not really," I confessed.
"Alright, let's check then."
She was quiet for a second while she felt. "Oh! Yeah, you're done. There's the baby's ear. We can get ready to start pushing!"
"Does she have hair?!" I needed to make sure of this.
Isabel laughed. "Yes, I definitely felt some hair."
I was so happy that it was time to have this baby girl that I had been carrying for so long. The same thing happened with Graeme... There's something about that phrase, "It's time to start pushing," that suddenly makes me forget all about being in pain, gives me tons of energy, and makes me so excited. Labor suddenly becomes really fun.
That's probably a really weird thing to say...
And I'm sure a lot of it is the epidural talking.
To be continued...
No comments:
Post a Comment