We arrive at the hospital around 3:30 am on Tuesday, October 11th. My contractions are continuing. I am able to close my eyes and breath through them. At admissions we are told that the on-call doctor did not warn them of my arrival. They seem a little annoyed by that. I just smile. The woman in admissions calls up to Labor and Delivery. They must ask how I'm doing, because I hear her say, "She doesn't seem to be in too much pain right now." I thought, Oh great. They are surely going to send me home now. But when the woman at admissions hangs up and turns back to us, she smiles a knowing smile and says, "From my experience, it's always the quiet ones that are in real labor." I smile again. :)
The above photo is me, all settled in our room. They have checked me, and I am SIX CENTIMETERS!! During the drive up, I had hoped for 6, but kept trying to be "realistic" and plan to be okay with 3 centimeters. By this point, they have helped me change, hooked up my IV and blood pressure cuff, and turned us loose. Really. They tells us to do whatever we want. Sit up. Go for a walk. Pace the room. Sleep. Sit on a birthing ball. Whatever we want. Now, for some of you, you're thinking well sure, that's what they do. But remember, I have only ever had induced labors. During inductions, you are basically strapped to the bed and told what to do and what not to do. Looking back, that is one thing that added to my fear during childbirth- the lack of freedom to move. This time, I was free to change positions to alleviate pain, if only until the next contraction. I was free to get into a position that worked with my body to move the baby into the birth canal instead of fighting against it. It was wonderful. And we took advantage of it by walking for an hour and sitting straight up (a position that allowed me to widen my pelvis and visualize baby moving down into position). Again, it was wonderful. :)
My timeline of the rest of the night is pretty hazy. Two things I know for sure: We were in the room around 3:30 and Lucy was born just over 7 hours later at 10:39 am. Over the course of those seven hours I was able to continue medicine free for a lot of it. This was a huge answer to prayer. The desire of my heart had been to have a labor that started on it's own and to be able to go med-free for as long as possible in the hopes of avoiding an epidural. God graciously granted the spontaneous start of my labor. And there in the hospital I was progressing, experiencing painful labor that was accomplishing something. This was another blessing God poured out on my heart. It was great, even as the pain started to get worse and worse. I was breathing and focusing during each contraction, able to take a quick rest in between them. I was rocking gently with my eyes closed. I felt empowered. It was amazing to think I was doing what God had created my body to do. Lige held my hand or rubbed my back. I had given him strict instructions that if I begged him for meds, he was to lovingly make me wait another hour. To his credit, he did a really good job. :)
I have no idea what time it was, but eventually I got to 8 centimeters. The pain was picking up and I was getting tired. I started whining to Lige. I kept saying, "I'm done now. I just want to go home and go to sleep. I miss my bed. Please, just take me home so I can sleep." My poor husband got a good laugh at that! He tried to convince me that going home was no longer an option. But that was like trying to be rational with a crazy person! He helped me make it the hour. Then I asked for IV pain meds. And I was okay with that by that point. :) Whether it was before the meds or after, I can't be sure...but somewhere in there they broke my water. I had hoped to have as few interventions as possible, but I'm glad we did this one. They broke my water and it was green with meconium. I've had this before with Anlynn's birth, so I knew this meant no baby delivered directly to my chest and a pediatrician and NICU team in the room during delivery to suction baby's lungs. But at least we knew that and could plan on that.
The IV meds brought welcome relief for about 45 minutes. They checked me again and I was at 9 centimeters. They kept telling me to let them know when I felt a big pressure to push. I wasn't sure what I was waiting for, but it wasn't coming. I started to stall out at 9 centimeters, so they brought in another intervention: the dreaded pitocin. My nurse assured me that it would be just a whiff to get me to ten. But they thought of pitocin, fatigue, increasing pain, and the unknown duration of pushing caused me to crumble my resolve. I did not want an epidural. The nurse was sort of pushing me towards one, saying they had caught the anestesiologist just in time. I did not want an epidural. But the pain was getting worse with the pitocin. I didn't know how long I would have to push. My resolve was fading fast. As I struggled with this decision, the nurse says, "We could see if they could do an intrathecal." A what? A powerful shot into your spine that numbs you from the waist down for about 2 hours. Did I want that? Well, I did not want an epidural. This was not an epidural. But is it still "cheating"? Another painful contraction hits. I decide that this is not cheating and tell them yes. (Of course looking back now, I wonder if I could have made it. And I think maybe I could have. But I made the best decision I could at that time. I was extremely tired and I had no idea how long it would take to push. The girls both took a little over an hour. The boys took between 15 and 20 minutes. Based on the information I had at the time, I must be okay with my decision. And I can't help but praise God for answering my prayer of "No epidural." )
The shot brought immediate relief. I felt a warm sensation spread down my legs as the medicine coursed through my body. And then I felt very sleepy. Too sleepy. And a bit dreamy and well, high. The intrathecal meds cause the blood vessels in your legs to dilate. This causes your blood pressure to drop as the blood floods to your lower half. My blood pressure was dropping quickly. The anestisiologist is unfazed by this. He has a dose of ephedrine at the ready, explaining all this as he injects it into my IV. He has the nurse hold my legs up above her head. I dreamily see Lige's face glued to the monitor. His eyes are wide in...fear? The anestisologist gives a second dose of ephedrine. I'm feeling so sleepy. I keeping thinking, "If they would just let me roll over onto my side and go to sleep, I would be fine. Why won't they just let me go so I can roll over and sleep?" The anesthisologist is starting to get a bit concerned, his eyes glued to my monitor. He grabs a siringe of phenylephrine...stronger, more effective than the ephedrine. Thankfully, it works and everyone in the room breaths a heavy sign of relief. I asked Lige later what he was thinking during that time. He said, watching my blood pressure drop like that was a concern but he was managing it. He went on to say, that if it had gotten much lower, he would have screamed at the anestesiologist to do something more fast!
I have no clue how long all of this took. It could have been 15 minutes or 2 hours. Really, I have no idea. I do know this: the second my blood pressure is under control, my doctor is in position and says we are at 10 and ready to go!
I feel like I have to literally pull myself from La La Land and re-enter the present. I feel as if I've ripped myself from the dreamy place I'd been floating around in and have to actually shake my head to clear the fog. The room fills with people. Lige is there, of course. My doctor. My nurse and her nursing student. I think the anestisiologist is somewhere gathering up his things. The NICU team arrives: the on-call pediatrician with at least two NICU nurses. We wait for a contraction and it's time...
I push. I have my arms down at my side, hands grabbing the back of my thighs. The nurse tries to make me use the silly handle bar things. But I've done this before. I know what works for my body. And so does my doctor, God love her! She snaps at the nurse, "She's grabbing the back of her legs!" To me, with a lovely look of sincere encouragement she says, "That was a great push. Really. Let's do it again." I push three times with that contraction. We wait for another one. I feel great. I'm preparing myself for 15 minutes of this. For 2 hours of this. Another contraction. Here we go.
I take a breath and push, barely, and there's a rush of fluid and baby and Oh my goodness! The baby was just born! Just like that! Just slipped right out! I get a quick peak at baby's head before she's tossed to the NICU team. Her tiny head is covered in green poo. My first thought is that my poor baby's head looks like her flesh is rotting off. I know it's the meconium, but it's still a shock. The NICU team work their magic. I hear her cry. I breath a sigh of relief and offer up a quick prayer of thanksgiving.
In the rush to get her to the NICU team for suctioning, our doctor didn't check her sex...but Lige took notice right away. :) They tell us we have another daughter! We are delighted. And I praise God again for a sweet answer to another prayer: I really wanted another girl.
After suctioning and vitals and a quick rub down, our daughter, our Lucy Nicole, is wrapped and placed in my longing arms. Lige takes pictures. I kiss her. I try to nurse her. Lige takes more pictures. I try to nurse again, and she latches. It's a sweet and lovely first hour with my darling little girl. I keep kissing her and smelling her and nuzzling her. And it was wonderful. Lige's mom arrives. My mom arrives. They steal a peak of her while she's in my arms. The nurse comes in to check her vitals again. Sweet Lucy doesn't leave my arms during this routine exam and I'm chatting with my moms full of the joy and excitement that accompanies a birth. Little did I know that this is where my world would slowly begin to unravel...
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