Ok, I'm finally sitting down to write out all of the dirty details. But first, allow me to recap the last few weeks of my never ending pregnancy. I last posted at 39 weeks. P's family was due to come in for New Year's at the end of the week, and we all thought I would magically go into labor as soon as everyone got here and it would be a lovely family affair. Alas, my life does not work like that (but honestly, whose does?). We spent a wonderful weekend together, but I was so miserable and anxious I couldn't really be the best hostess. I analyzed every twinge thinking it might be the start of something (it wasn't). Everyone went home, and my due date had come and gone. I had a positive appointment that Monday where the Dr. checked me and said I was 3 to 4 cm, so I had her strip my membranes. I made the decision to start maternity leave since I was not able to wake up, still pregnant, without totally losing it and bawling my eyes out. Week 40 was definitely the worst. I had my mom come up to chauffeur me around and help out around the house. I was on a mission to get baby OUT, and the only thing I had left to do was to walk. Mom and I walked the mall every day. A lot. I could probably name every store in that mall. In walking order. By Friday I was an emotional wreck. After our routine mall excursion, we came home to relax. Relax = ordering a pizza. I came to terms with the fact that I would probably be induced the next week, so I should just eat as much pizza as possible and deal with it. While waiting on the pizza I went in the bathroom to pee (just like I had ten minutes previously, and ten minutes before that, etc.) and...wait for it...MY WATER BROKE!!! And this starts the birth story.
8 pm Friday night my water breaks while I'm on the toilet. How anticlimactic is that?? It required zero clean up. I called P into the bathroom and just smiled HUGELY at him. And he blankly stares at me. All while there is a slow trickle sound coming from the toilet. He thinks I'm insane, calling him into the bathroom to show off my pee skills. Until I announce "I'M NOT PEEING!!!". Woo hoo!! Mom and P start celebrating while I try to figure out how to get off the toilet while constantly leaking. After a team pow wow we decide that we should all get ready for the festivities to begin, even though I still hadn't had a contraction.
Let me interject here to explain the birth we had been preparing for. I have always wanted to have a natural birth. I'm not throwing stones at anyone who opts for drugs, epis, c-sections, etc. But I always saw myself doing it old school. So P and I decided to take Bradley classes (kinda like Lamaze, but a bit more intense and a different focus). We went dutifully to classes for 12 weeks and learned all about what happens to a woman's body during pregnancy and labor. I LOVED every minute of it and equally LOVED our birth instructor. I had my birth plan written out to give to the nurses and my coaches by my side - we were so ready for this.
So I dutifully call the Dr. to inform them of my water breaking, and she tells me to go to Labor and Delivery to get checked. Hmm. I hadn't even had a contraction yet, and I had wanted to labor at home for as long as possible before going to the hospital. What to do? Call favorite birth instructor!! She recommends staying at home until morning since I'm not even in active labor yet. Good point birth instructor! So I get in the shower to shave my legs and P and mom get all of the bags ready to go. I'm able to eat a slice of pizza, and then settle in to watch some TV.
My contractions started around 11 pm. They were not too painful at first, and about 5 to 6 minutes apart. I handled them as long as I could by myself, and the when I got a little nervous I woke P up to start timing them for me. I labored on the birthing ball the whole time we were at home. P sat on the bed behind me and rubbed my back. That seemed to work for me, and before I knew it the contractions were 3 to 4 min apart and it was 5 am.
I decided it was time to head to the hospital since they were getting a bit more intense and I needed to moan through them. P and mom helped me to the car and we made the 1 minute drive to the hospital. I had two contractions on the way up to the nurses station, and that was REALLY uncomfortable. They got me into triage and hooked me up to the monitors. Yes, I was contracting, and I was 5 cm. I was admitted right away, and after some papers were signed, I was assigned a room and my nurse Kim.
Kim was wonderful, totally on board with my birth plan, and happy to leave us alone to get to work. P had brought the birth ball (even though they're not allowed), and put up a huge stink to let me use it. We even signed a waiver. Then, when I finally got on it, it was too painful! This is where things get blurry. I was required to be hooked up to the monitors for 20 min every hour, so I spent a lot of time in the bed. Which actually was an ok place to labor. When I wasn't in the bed I was in the shower. Hot water is AMAZING. They say it's nature's epidural. And they are right. The pain was completely manageable in there. P was with me the whole way, spraying my belly with hot water for a total of hours and hours.
Each time they made me get out of the shower to be monitored, I progressed a bit more. I don't really remember centimeters 6-8, but before I knew it, it was late afternoon and I was told I was close and at 9 cm. That is when the pain got MUCH worse. I labored and labored, and each time they checked me, I was at a 9. No progress.
Then I needed to push. No, the word need isn't good enough. I had no other choice. It was like the urge to vomit. BUT, if you're not fully dilated they won't let you push b/c you could cause the cervix to swell. And I'm not even sure what they do if that happens but I know it's not good. So the contractions went like this: "Moooooaaaaaannnnn....MOOOaaaaaaannnnn.......MOOOOAAAAANNNNN.....AAAHHHH I'm pushing I'm pushing I'm pushing!!!!" Which was responded to by every person in the room: "Don't push don't push don't push!!!!!" For hours. Definitely the worst part of the whole experience.
Then, God heard my prayers (yes I was actively praying during those last few hours because I really believed I could NOT do it by myself anymore). There was a shift change, and I was assigned a new nurse, Diana. She was an angel, and exactly what I needed. She was all about my birth plan and, as a childbirth instructor herself, was very familiar with natural births. She asked me if I had the urge to push. I think I might have actually laughed at that. So she decided to check me as I was having a contraction. At the peak of pain, she said the word I was longing to hear...PUSH. And I did. And then she told me that she had pushed me to 10 centimeters and we could start pushing on EVERY contraction! Hallelujah!
The pushing part is totally what you see on TV. Legs up, mom on one side, P on the other. Me grasping behind my knees and pushing until I thought my head would explode. Yes, it hurt. But it was so much better than NOT pushing that it really wasn't that bad in comparison. I can only describe is as the most pressure in the world, all in my butt. I don't remember how many contractions it took, but it went pretty fast b/c everyone in the room was getting worried that the Dr. wasn't there yet. Mom and P were totally enthralled with the miracle of the moment, especially when the head started to show. I, however, just wanted to be DONE. They did get me to touch the head, but I was so distracted all I could think was, ew it's squishy, and OW THIS HURTS!
So, the Dr. finally moseys into the room, takes one look at me, and says "Oh, wow!" and hurries to get her gloves on. After she got in position, it only took a couple pushes and the head was out! Then they told me to push again and the rest of her came out! It was 8:10 pm, exactly 24 hours from when my water broke. They put her right on my belly, and she started crying immediately.
Seeing her for the first time was indescribable...but I'll try to describe it anyway. We both looked at each other and I totally recognized her. And when I talked to her, she looked at me like she knew my voice. It was amazing and incredible and awesome and everything that I can't put into words. She was so alert (I'm sooo glad I didn't have any meds) and ready to explore her surroundings immediately. P and I fell in love with her instantly. Our baby was finally here and nothing else mattered.
While I was enthralled with MY BABY, all of the "other" things were taken care of. We waited for the cord to stop pulsing, and then P cut it. I delivered the placenta, which actually hurt, unlike what everyone else told me. Placentas are the grossest things EVER. And mine was HUGE. And then while they were weighing and measuring MY BABY I was stitched up. Yes, I had some tearing. Boo. But I guess that's what you get when you go a week overdue and deliver an almost 9 pound baby. 8 pounds 13.1 ounces and 20 inches to be exact.
So those are all of the dirty details. I apologize for any misspellings or grammar errors. I'm a little sleep deprived. I am thrilled that we had the birth experience we wanted. All of the nurses and the staff at the hospital were so amazing and super supportive. Yes it was painful, but it was completely worth it. I would do it a hundred million times over for my baby girl.
