Birth Story: Part Three

The Fentanyl made my entire body feel like it was full of sand which was quite an achievement at 41 weeks pregnant. I felt deliciously heavy and the contractions weren't as intense. Amanda was able to catch a few z's while a drowsy Kris took the chair next to the bed and kept me company. After about an hour I noticed the effects wearing off and I was still feeling more exhausted then rested and I opted for another dose. Which brought me another hour of dozing in and out, grasping the rail on the side of the bed whenever I felt another wave of pain.

At around 4 am, I was officially drug-free, and I was beginning to squirm a bit. Each time a contraction hit I would shuffle my feet and rock back and forth, gripping the side rail until my knuckles turned white. Tricia mentioned that it would be better if I tried to hold as still as possible and focus, really FOCUS, on my breathing. This sounded exactly like what I didn't want to be doing. Writhing was the only thing getting me through this, how could she take that away from me?! I didn't have to wait long before I got to test her theory and guess what? She was totally right. At first I was able to just close my eyes and focus on my breathing but after a while that just wasn't enough. Amanda woke up just in time to have Tricia show her how to apply pressure to my lower back to relieve some of the pain. It was the most brilliant recommendation she made the whole night. I had one hand wrapped around the side rail and the other was holding Kris' hand, who would obligingly return the bone-crushing pressure of my grip. The contractions were coming much more quickly now and lasting an eternity. The only comfortable position for me was on my side and moving was becoming more and more difficult.

My water still hadn't broken and my cervix was taking it's sweet time and was only at about 6cm. The good news was that the baby was in the right position and my labor was progressing as well as it could. Tricia mentioned that I was doing as well as could be expected for someone who wanted a drug-free (well, almost drug-free) birth. I was the poster child for pain management. HA! I felt more like the poster child for unabashed writhing and moaning. However, I was still stubbornly holding to my guns that I didn't want an epidural. So for the next several hours this was how things continued, Amanda rubbing my lower back with each contraction and Kris holding my hand, my eyes squeezed shut.

Around this time I became overly concerned that I was whimpering too loud and I totally blame this absurd apprehension on an episode of MTV's "Sixteen and Pregnant", the one with the girl SHRIEKING in agony and she was only at 1cm. And I SO didn't want to be that girl, causing everyone else in the Labor and Delivery ward to silently pray for someone to shove a sock in that girl's mouth because people are trying to have a civilized AND quiet labor over here. Amanda and Kris assured me that my moaning was barely audible much less something that would echo down the halls. Thank God I still had that tiny shard of dignity left.

About 6:30 am Tricia introduced me to her replacement, Angie, who would be my nurse for the duration of my labor. Before the shift change at 7 am I had Tricia give me one more shot of Fentanyl, the pain was beyond anything I'd experienced and I needed just one more hour of relief. That last shot lasted about 15 minutes when I was hit with a contraction so strong, so intense that no amount of massaging or focused breathing was going to alleviate this pain. My eyes flew open and I was grasping and clawing at Kris' shirt, vision blurred, my whole body contorted in pain and in that moment I asked for that epidural, begged for it. I wanted that damn epidural. Give it to me NOW! Except when Angie came in and checked my cervix she said that I was already at 9.5cm and there wasn't much point in having the epidural because by the time the anesthesiologist arrived, paperwork was signed, and the drug hooked up, the baby would be here. Gaah! I really didn't think I could make it through another contraction like that but at this point I didn't have a choice. I was having this baby without any form of pain-relief whether I wanted to or not.

And in the midst of everything I noticed the soft gray light of sunrise filling my room and it was beautiful.

I don't remember having another contraction like that again, they were still intense, still coming every minute and lasting for three but I had hit a wall and things just couldn't get worse, with Amanda and Kris coaching me, and a renewed focus on my breathing, I was doing it and there was a teeny tiny bit of me that was proud of myself for that.

Out of nowhere around 8:15 am I was suddenly filled with the urge to push. I had Amanda call Angie in because I couldn't fight the impulse, my body was taking over. Angie appeared, did the ol' check the cervix and, glory hallelujah, I was finally a full 10 cm. My water broke, with a little help, and Angie told me that I could start pushing and the most amazing thing happened. The pain and delirium of the contractions was counteracted by the pushing. Each time a contraction hit, I would bear down and their was no pain or discomfort. Until Angie got this terrible idea that I should move to my back and try and bend my legs. I really wasn't ready to be on my back at all. Each time she would try and reposition me the pain and pressure in my lower back was excruciating. I just wanted to stay curled up on my side because that's what felt best and after several failed attempts to do it her way, Angie gave up and let me do it my way.

Unbeknownst to me, there was a bit of a predicament taking place outside of my room. There was no doctor to deliver my baby. My own obgyn had taken that Monday off so she was unavailable and nobody seemed to have a clue who would be available for the birth. So phone calls were made and someone mentioned that my doctor, Dr. Hoch, was actually going to be coming in. And then someone told me she wasn't. Then she was. It was finally determined that she wasn't actually coming in and the Dr. on call, Dr. Gallagher, would be doing the delivery. Except no one seemed to know exactly where she was or when she would arrive. During all of this Angie is checking how things are progressing and in spite of the fact that there was no one to deliver my baby he was making his way into the world. The good news was that Dr. Gallagher was on her way.

The moment Angie informed the staff that I was ready to deliver our room filled with a crowd of people, nurse, techs, and assistants. These two giant spotlights were turned on, my bed fixed into a sitting position, drapes were secured, and Dr. Gallagher was fully outfitted in her scrubs and protective eye gear and everyone was saying PUSH! Someone politely asked if I wanted a mirror and, dear Lord Jesus, I so did NOT want to see what was going on. I was pretty sure I would change my mind about this whole giving birth thing if I did. So I said no and continued to push, but then it turned out that I wasn't pushing the right way, so it was explained to me just exactly what they meant when they said PUSH! So I gave it another shot, and everyone's talking, telling me that the next push is it, just one more. I'm holding onto the bed above my head for dear life, my face resembling a beet and I'm pushing. C'mon, you can do it...PUSH! PUSH!

And at 9:02 am, with sun streaming in the room, I felt the most bizarre sensation and after an incredible release of pressure someone plopped a baby on my chest! A little shrieking purple baby boy with a head full of hair. And everything went from a hundred miles an hour to zero in an instant. Here he was! After 41 weeks of waiting and anticipating and 12 hours of hard labor he was actually here! And he was perfect.

Dubious

Sweet Dreams

Birth Story: Part Two

The drive to the hospital went by in a blur, with me squeezing a pillow during contractions and bracing my legs against the floorboard. There was no traffic so late on a Sunday night so we made excellent time and arrived at the emergency room at around 8:45 pm. Of course, there was no one at the front desk to check us in and the several disheveled patrons milling around the waiting room acted like they had never seen a pregnant woman before in their lives.

The nurse on duty finally arrived and buzzed us in, informing us that we would have to check in before I could be officially admitted. I was prepared for this, with all my paper work filled out, signed, and a copy of my insurance card. I wasn't about to sit around trying to remember my social security number while contractions were wracking my body. A very nice orderly showed up in minutes with a wheelchair (hospital protocol) and I gratefully took a seat still clutching my pillow. He wheeled me down the hall to the elevators, Kris is tow, carrying the hospital bag and an ever-calm demeanor.

I arrived at Labor and Delivery and was shown to my room (#3) where the night nurse, Tricia, hooked me up to a variety of machines and asked me several thousand questions about my health, like had I happened to do crack, cocaine, meth, or heroine at any point in my life. I felt like telling her I was seriously thinking about doing all four at that moment and could we just get this show on the road thankyouverymuch. After she confirmed that I was in labor, FOR REAL, as opposed to just pretending, she put in the IV, got my antibiotics flowing, informed me I was in for a long night and to just let her know when I was ready for pain medication. Then she left. Left me in the room with my very tired husband and my dear friend, Amanda, and a Ben Stiller movie on TV. That last bit wasn't in the birth plan.

At this point I was only dilated to 3cm. Let me tell you just how disappointed I was to hear that. I was hoping for at least 6cm but at 3cm I knew that things were going to get a lot worse before they got better and they were going to take their sweet time doing it.

For the most part I could still carry on a conversation during my contractions and once a contraction passed I was able to feel relatively normal and rested. Tricia came in several times and shared some information that wasn't a part of any pregnancy book I had read, like how I was going to "bleed like a garden hose", then she got me set up with these awesome mesh underpants, something that you might find in the Geriatric Fredrick's of Hollywood. Add that to the awesome hospital gown I was wearing and I was the perfect picture of FRUMP. That's another thing they don't tell you about labor, how you are stripped of any shred of dignity or modesty and your inability to control any part of your body. It was a humbling experience and one that I was completely unprepared for.

After about two hours, Tricia told me that it would be good for me and my labor if I got up and walked around. The first time out, Kris accompanied us but the second time around Amanda and I left an exhausted Kris on the hide-a-bed and hit the hallways which some forward-thinking genius had outfitted with railings. Let me just say I got to know those railings really really well. Each time a contraction hit I would stagger over to one of those mahogany-colored dowels and hold on to it for dear life while rocking back and forth. I was focusing on my breathing, deep breaths in through the nose and out the mouth. It seemed to be working fairly well and Amanda was doing a stellar job coaching me and keeping up a steady stream of chatter which was a most welcome distraction.

I was still only at about 5 cm at 1 am and the contractions had definitely started to get a bit more intense. I was unable to talk through them and they seemed to be lasting longer with less time to rest in between. I was so exhausted. I hadn't gotten any sleep since the previous night and I was kicking myself for making banana bread instead of taking a nap the day before. I was still managing without any pain medication at this point but it was getting so much more difficult. I knew that if I was going to have any chance of making it to the PUSH part of labor I needed some rest. So, I buzzed in Tricia and asked her what my options were other than an epidural and she mentioned Fentanyl, a fast-acting but temporary pain relief, it would last about an hour and I could have up to 6 doses. I was really starting to feel like I was at the end of my tether so I agreed and was given my first dose at around 2am.

It was totally worth it. It didn't take away the pain completely but dulled it to about 60% which was enough so I was able to get a few precious minutes of sleep. Amanda made a coffee run for herself and Kris and the waiting continued.

Tootsie

2 Weeks

Last week Cohen graduated to his crib for beddy-bye time. He's been doing remarkably well and now he won't because I just tempted fate by putting that in writing. oh well.

His schedule is becoming more defined and we are getting better at reading his cues. I've changed approximately 7,392 diapers, have spent the better part of the last 14 days shirtless, and have taken 3 showers. I'm sure his first words are going to be, "hey, mama, you stink". To which I will reply, "I gave up personal hygiene to feed, bounce, bathe, and carry you and you WILL appreciate it."

Our washing machine is holding up well considering we've used it at least once EVERY SINGLE DAY since we got home from the hospital, including the time we popped a load in at 3 am because Cohen thought it would be hilarious to spit up 3 times (maybe to mark the hour) each episode just far enough apart that I had cleaned him, myself, the rocking chair, the changing pad, etc. by the time the next round of spew appeared. After frantically emailing several experts we were assured this is normal. Both the spit up AND the laundry.

He passed his two week Dr. appointment with flying colors. In the words of Dr. (Franken) Stein, "He's perfect." We would have to agree.

Bright Eyes