I woke up around 2am thinking I had to poop. That was the sensation. Kind of crampy and urgent. Used the bathroom and went back to bed. No biggie. Except I couldn't fall back asleep. I laid there for about half an hour feeling anxious that something bad would happen if I dozed off. So I grabbed Jason's watch, a flashlight, a note pad and started timing the cramps. Not cramps. Contractions.
Around 3:30am I woke Jason to inform him that the contractions were coming every 3-5 minutes and that we might want to get our stuff together and head out to the hospital. He agreed. So then I did the one thing I positively had to do before we left the house. More important than the hospital bag or feeding the cat - I curled my hair and did my makeup. Jason couldn't believe it. But I knew, sometime later that day, there would be pictures and I would be damned if I was going to actually look like I woke up at 2am! No. I would look well rested with some carefully placed under eye concealer and my silky locks. As we have all learned in this new digital age - pictures last forever. There was no way I was going to LOOK like I'd been in labor all day.
We got to the hospital around 4am. They put the monitors on me to time the contractions and record the baby's heartbeat. The pain wasn't bad. More uncomfortable than painful. A menstrual cramp coupled with a fart. Annoying but not life threatening. Then I felt a leaking. My first thought was please tell me I didn't wet myself! Turns out it was my water breaking. And then the pain started.
I knew from the beginning of this pregnancy that I was completely OK with having an epidural. Anything to ease what could be a very long and painful process of bringing a new life into this world, right? What I didn't know was how fast the pain could go from being uncomfortable to being agonizing. With just my water breaking, I couldn't catch my breath during a contraction. The anesthesiologist couldn't get to my room fast enough. What do you mean another pregnant lady needs an epidural first? I said I need relief and I meant now! If there had been any doubts before about having an eight inch needle placed into my back they were gone before that first painful contraction ended. And honestly, getting the epidural was not the horror story I had been led to believe. Twinging, pinching and pressure. That was all. Then the pain stopped and a wonderful sense of heaviness came over my lower half.
Now the tedious part starts, I thought. I'd read many labor stories of how long it takes to actually have the baby. All seemed to recommend things to ease the waiting - books, ipods, a Himalayan mountain man to recite prayers. I thought I would be going crazy stuck in that room for who knew how long. I'm not a patient person in the best of circumstances and you want me to lay in a bed IN THE HOSPITAL for how long? Ten hours? Not without a serious meltdown along the way. But it turns out the way to pass the time is to watch Die Hard on VHS on the crappiest old TV I've ever seen. The hospital had a wonderful selection of any movie that came out prior to 1994. Help yourself.
So the time was passing pleasantly but I didn't seem to be progressing at all. If my water hadn't broken, they probably would have sent me home after monitoring me for an hour. I came in at about 3 cm and four hours later was only at 5cm. They put more monitors on me and even one on the baby to get a better read of the contractions. Seven hours after checking in, they decided I wasn't progressing like they wanted and began giving me an IV of Pitocin to hopefully speed things along. Finally, around 1pm, I was far enough dilated that I could begin pushing. And oh my dear heaven was that a weird sensation. Imagine taking a double dose of Nyquil, sucking on some nitrous oxide then being asked to stand on your head. That's what pushing with the epidural was like for me. I knew the mechanics of what I was being asked to do but I couldn't tell if I was doing it. And I could tell by the look on the nurse's face that I wasn't doing it very well.
Which is why I think I had to push for two hours. Long enough that the epidural finally began wearing off and I could feel what was happening down there. Pain. But also the sense of pressure I should have been feeling all along to know when to push. Oh and did I mention the pain? Yes there was pain. Lots of it. All because I couldn't seem to get the baby's head out. It was right there, down where it should be, but all my pushing wasn't getting it any farther out. I was huffing and puffing and straining but nothing was happening. I kept hearing just one more big one and she'll be here. That was a good one, now just another big one. But no matter how many big ones I had, she stayed where she was. Turns out the solution to the problem was an episiotomy.
One quick snip and there she was. They laid her on my chest and it was all I could do to check that she was indeed a girl and to try and count all 10 wiggling fingers and toes.
Jason was snapping pictures and cutting the cord and somewhere in the background I became aware that the doctor and nurses were talking about fluids. I thought they meant the stuff that was still leaking from me. Turns out they were talking about my little girl and all the fluid she had in her lungs and stomach. Because I had to push for so long, she was in the birth canal long enough to start breathing in the amniotic fluids. All too soon she was lifted off my chest and taken to the warmer where they began to suction out her mouth and nose.
I heard the words NICU then became distracted by the stitches being sewn into my lady bits. A feeling of dread came over me. You want to take my baby where? Intensive Care has ominous tones at the best of times but all I could think of was there was something wrong with my sweet little girl and they wanted to fix it. I made Jason go with her because I couldn't. They promised me they'd get her back to me as soon as they could. She'd need a breathing treatment after they got all the fluid out so why don't I relax, get cleaned up and get taken to our new room. I saw her for just a few minutes looking like an X-wing fighter.
Five hours later they finally brought her to us. I've never felt time pass so slowly. But then there she was, a pink perfect little doll that just stared at me for a year and a day.
Hello Penelope Jayne.
