I've been working on this post for a while now. It is long and boring. I won't be offended if you skim through it for the pictures. :)
I was induced the Wednesday before Lucille's birthday after my 39 week appointment. Most of the doctors and midwives we had discussed our situation with in the weeks prior agreed that 39 weeks was the time we should induce if I hadn't already gone into labor naturally. I wanted so badly to avoid induction, but I'm a sensible person. My midwife made me feel better by telling me that I couldn't have done anything differently, this was just one of those unlucky things. Despite the high blood pressure, Lucille and I were still healthy at this point and it seemed wise to keep it that way. Ultimately, we wanted to avoid a C-section and that we accomplished. Who knows if things would have gone differently if we continued the pregancy another week.
I just want to note at this point, I have nothing against the naval hospital where I gave birth to baby girl. I would recommend them to others. I absolutely loved my nurses throughout my stay. They stood up for me, they made sure I had time to make decisions, they didn't let anyone pressure me, and they kicked residents out of the room when I asked. Loved them. Many of the midwives that I encountered were exactly the type of providers I had hoped to work with. The medical staff was wonderful. Our rooms were nicer and more spacious than I expected. Military hospitals get a bad rap and I don't think they necessarily deserve it.
DAY ONE When I was admitted, I was at two centimeters. It was an encouraging start. I figured I would be at zero, nada, nowhere. The problem with two centimeters is that your body can happily be there for weeks and not make progress. My body was probably planning on it. I got tethered down with the fetal monitoring belts, an IV, and a blood pressure cuff that went off every 15 minutes. They decided to start me right out on Pictocin. I was on Pitocin for nine hours. I had regular strong contractions the entire time, but they had to keep increasing the dose of Pitocin to keep them coming. By the end of day one, I was nearing the cut off for the maximum dose of Pitocin they allow without breaking your water, so I agreed to be checked.
Nine hours of work and no progress. Still two centimeters. Still 50% effaced. Baby was still at negative three station. They turned off the Pitocin and started Cervidil.
I hated Cervidil for reasons that I'm not going to share here, but there were some positives to being on it rather than the Pitocin. I was pretty much left alone, people were constantly checking on me while on Pitocin. I was allowed "clears" instead of just the ice chips that I was allowed while on Pitocin. So, so basically jello and clear drinks galore.
DAY TWO Late Thursday morning, I had been on Cervidil for 12 hours and was checked again.
Still no progress. I hadn't gotten any sleep the night before. Imagine trying to sleep with your blood pressure being taken every 15 minutes and an IV pumping medicine into your veins that creates an awful burning sensation. And I was so hungry that all I really wanted was ice chips while on my "clears" diet just to have something to crunch on. They let me shower (with my IV in, mind you, but they did let me remove that awful blood pressure cuff) and my nurse remade my bed and got me a new hospital gown. We then restarted the Cervidil.
DAY THREE Friday around one in the morning, I was checked again. Nine hours of Pitocin and 24 hours of Cervidil and
Still no progress. I was exactly where I was when I got there. Can you imagine the disappointment? Here I am, on day three, and all they've done is make me exhausted and hungry and incredibly sore. The blood pressure cuff was starting to bruise my arm. My IV was nearing it's time to be replaced. I was sick of being stuck in my room because they wouldn't let me walk the halls due to my blood pressure. I was becoming so swollen from the IV fluids and lack of movement. We started Cervidil for third time and I agreed to take some Ambien. I had a hard time accepting that I needed a sleeping aid. I was concerned that it would make baby girl less active and then they would just consider me a failed induction. Failed induction = C-section. If there was one intervention that I ultimately wanted to avoid it was a C-section. This I knew.
I got about three hours of sleep with the Ambien. It wasn't a lot of rest, but it was very much needed. I didn't regret taking the Ambien. Around one in the afternoon on Friday I was checked again. Finally, after 36 hours of Cervidil, I made a little progress. I was at three-maybe-four centimeters. I was hoping for five or six, but heck, I'd take what I could get. I was contracting regularly on my own at this point. I had a glimmer of hope that the majority of the interventions could stop here and that my body would just take over. We stopped the Cervidil, I was able to shower again and they allowed me to labor on my own for four or five hours. My contractions were regular and increasing intensity, which the doctors liked. I didn't feel the need to use any of that crazy lamaze breathing yet, I just used the birth ball and rocking chair.
Later that Friday I was checked again and guess what...
no progress -_- . I was having contractions, but they weren't doing anything. They started me back up on a low dose of pitocin and I almost immediately started to have intense, back-to-back contractions. They were painful, but I could deal. I was only on Pitocin for about an hour before they decided that it was affecting me too much. The intensity and pace of the contractions I was experiencing wasn't safe for me or the baby. They turned it off and I labored again, on my own for a while. My contractions fizzled. Body was confused and what it had been doing on it's own previously, was no longer happening. When the doctors realized this they placed me back on Pitocin. Only a half a dose this time. This seemed to do the trick. I was having regular painful contractions. Around ten or so that night they checked me again and you can probably guess, but
still no progress. Still a three-maybe-four. Still on half a does of Pitocin, because a whole dose was too much.
We were told that the best thing to do at this point was break my water. We were reluctant. They were surprised. We didn't want to be put on that dreaded 24 hour limit that ends in C-section if you don't progress. We knew how well I was doing at progressing. On the other hand, how many hours of this induction would they allow before they considered me a failed induction (a term that kept on being tossed around during our stay) and would result in the same thing. We asked for a couple hours to think it over.
About twenty minutes later when I got up to use the restroom my water broke on it's own, so we didn't have to make the decision. Immediately after my water broke my painful contractions became so very intense. I puked. I needed the crazy Lamaze breathing and was getting into all sorts of weird positions trying to deal with the pain. Michael was so vital in this stage. I relied on him so much during my hospital stay, but I think I needed him the most at this point. For a few hours the contractions became closer together and increasingly painful. I was beginning to feel like "I can't do this much longer" and I found encouragement in that -- I had read that this was indicative of being in transition. I thought I must be getting close. My crazy Lamaze breathing wasn't so controlled anymore and I was just being noisy. They checked me at this point and I was at a five.
DAY FOUR Five centimeters. I was crushed. I was in the early hours of day four at this point, around one in the morning, I believe. It hit me how exhausted I truly was and instead of feeling like
'I can't do this much longer', I felt like
'I can't do this'. As the midwife was leaving the room I told Michael I needed something for pain. It had been my request that I wouldn't be offered anything and so it was entirely my decision to ask for pain medication. I was at peace with the decision. I felt better after just asking.They asked me if I wanted IV medication or an epidural. I chose IV medication. I just wanted something to take the edge off.
They gave me morphine. It didn't help. My contractions continued to intensify and were back-to-back. The gave me another dose of morphine and I still couldn't notice a change. If anything they were getting worse and I felt like the only thing I could do was lay in bed screaming/sobbing at the top of my lungs. I was that laboring woman. The one you could hear down the hallway. The one that was scaring the other patients. I asked for an epidural and felt the same peace I had felt about the IV medication. I needed help and it was coming. You're next in line, they told me. The anesthesiologist will be here soon, they said. They gave me a third dose of morphine, which still didn't help. He came in about 30 minutes later to tell me that they were rushing into an emergency C-section and that he was sorry but I'd have to wait. I wasn't upset, I was glad I wasn't the one who needed an emergency C-section.
When you're in so much pain, 30 minutes feels like hours. The nurses kept on assuring me that he would be there soon. He wasn't, the C-section must have been more complicated than they anticipated.
Looking back at this, I feel so horribly for Michael who could do nothing but watch me struggle. He said is sounded like I was on fire. He sat at my bedside for the most part, but would get up and pace every now and then. A couple times he left me alone in the room and went out in the hallway to see what was going on. My nurse and midwife would stop in on occasion to dab my face with a cold washcloth and apologize. I didn't really have the energy to acknowledge them. I was so exhausted that the few moments I had between contraction I would fall asleep, snore once, and then continue to screaming.
I was so confused about what was happening. I remember thinking that I should ask them to turn off the Pitocin, but I don't think I did. I had been in the hospital for so long that my labs were no longer up to date and they had to draw blood again for the epidural to make sure my platelet counts were okay. During one of the times that Michael had gone out to the hallway and then came back to my beside I was convinced that my labs came back poorly. I thought he knew it. I thought that they weren't going to give me an epidural and I panicked. I told Michael I wanted a C-section if they couldn't do it.
After hours and hours of waiting, I received my epidural at 7:30 in the morning on Saturday. The anesthesiologist apologized that the C-section had taken so much longer than they had told me. They checked me just before, because they said it sounded like I was ready to push. I wish, I told them, I wish I wanted to push. I was only at seven centimeters. I had only made two centimeters of progress in the past six hours.
I received both a spinal and an epidural. A spinal begins to work almost immediately after it is placed, my lower body was completely numb within three minutes. I could still move around in my bed as easily at before, I just couldn't feel my lower body... it was one of the strangest things I've ever experienced. The epidural was placed for long-term pain control.
It took me six hours to finish dilating the last three centimeters. I had a button I could push to administer more medication to my epidural, which had started to wear off at this point, but I chose not to use it so I could feel my contractions to push. Luckily, even with the epidural and the four days of hardly any sleep or food I was an effective pusher. I started pushing at 2:00 pm with just me, Michael, and our nurse in the room. Just forty minutes later, after being joined by the midwife and another nurse for Lucille (we asked that the amount of people in the room be kept to a minimum... which made a huge difference considering that we delivered at a teaching hospital), our baby girl was born at 2:42 pm. She let out her first couple screams and the midwife immediately placed her on my chest. They told us she had a very thick, healthy cord. The first thing I said was that she might have red hair, which is funny because we had joked about that happening the whole pregnancy.
I could tell that Michael was so in love with her by just looking at his face. When the nurse eventually took Lucille to the warmer across the room to get her vitals and measurements, I asked him to go with her and take her first few pictures. I love these pictures. I'm so glad we have them.
My memory of after her birth is kind of fuzzy. I was so exhausted, all I wanted to do was sleep. We got some family time before the nurse came back to give Lucille her first sponge bath. I nursed her for the first time and then Michael held her. Michael rolled around the room on a stool while talking to our sweet Lucille. Then baby girl was bathed and swaddled up tight for the first time, which prompted the longest nap she has probably taken since her birth.
I was up and out of bed pretty quickly after her birth. The epidural had worn off by the time she was born and I no longer had any sensation of numbness by the time Lucille was getting measured. The nurse helped me get cleaned up. I got into a new hospital gown and climbed back into bed, which prompted the best nap I've taken since Lucille's birth. I needed it. I don't know if I slept for an hour or for a day. Michael said he rocked our sleepy baby in the rocking chair the whole time I was asleep. It was dark outside when I opened my eyes again. I was still tired when Michael woke me up, but I finally felt rested. It was time to move to a recovery room and a new nurse was ready to take us. I loved this nurse, she was so sweet. She was a mother of four and had at least one of her babies at home. She told me to take care of myself. Don't let yourself be too busy, she said, chores can wait. Rest with your baby.
I loved the mother and baby unit. I could snuggle my baby girl as much as I wanted. I could shower whenever I wanted without worrying about an IV or unplugging a bunch of things. Michael had his own bed. We brought our own blankets, so we felt more at home. They brought me whole trays of FOOD three times a day. Hospital food never tasted so good. Whenever we had questions we just called our nurse. I wanted to get out of the hospital so bad when I was in the labor and delivery unit, but we enjoyed our couple days in the recovery room. In fact I still miss our time there on occasion.
