Tomorrow Parker will be 3 months…on one hand I can hardly
believe its already been three months and on the other I can’t believe its only been three months. As I sit here – in the middle of yet another
day of work fires – I realize I never wrote down Parker’s birth story. So here it is…mostly for the sake of helping
me to remember my experience.
Let’s start the week before:
Picture me – huge round belly and tree trunk legs because I am
so swollen, only ever in dresses because nothing else fits – waddling from our
house to my in-laws (about a half mile) EVERY SINGLE NIGHT in an attempt to
self-induce labor, despite the caveat from my midwife that walking DOES NOT
bring on labor, but it will definitely bring on contractions. And every single night after this walk, I would
have loads of contractions and Mike and I would time them and get all excited
because as each day passed the contractions started to get closer
together. And every single night I thought
to myself “this is it, this has got to be it!”
Friday morning, we have an appointment at Kaiser to check
how I am progressing. At this
appointment I am 2cm dilated and convinced that every little cramp is the
beginning of labor. My midwife informs
me otherwise and schedules a non-stress test for me since I am almost at a full
week late. She says that at this
appointment they will schedule an induction, if I even make it that far.
Sunday night, we once again take a walk to Dennis and Gloria’s
because I am beyond desperate to get this baby out. We have dinner and chat – and by chat I mean I
complain for most of the night about how ready I am to have this freaking baby
already. The next morning, we have our
Non-Stress Test appointment which I am excited for because it means there is an
end in sight. I have done my research as
to the possible outcomes of this appointment (1: everything is good and they
schedule the induction for some time in the next few days or 2: something is
wrong and they immediately induce). As I
have had a very easy pregnancy so far, I assume that option number 1 will be
the case and don’t bother making sure my bags are fully packed because I don’t
think we will really need them in the morning.
Monday morning, we have to drop the girls off at Bethany’s
and we are running late as always and completely forget the bag and breakfast
and barely make it on time. We check in
and get settled for the test which is basically just an ultrasound. The tech comes in and begins the ultrasound
and is making all kinds of alarming noises.
This is the first point throughout this process that I have actually
been really scared for my baby. I ask
her – choking back tears – what is wrong and she nonchalantly tells me that I don’t
pass. “What does that mean?” I ask.
She responds simply with “well, it means you don’t pass this portion of
the test.” No shit Sherlock, but what
does not passing mean? I ask again, “what does that mean? For the baby? For me?” “Well, it means that you can’t leave. Do you have your stuff? I am going to go call and see if I can get a
bed for you now, we are going to induce you because your fluid is low.” “What does that mean?” “Well, there is not enough amniotic fluid and
so we need to induce you to ensure the safety of your baby.” Ensure the safety of my baby? Now I am
completely scared and definitely fighting tears. She tells me that it is okay, the fluid level is not so low that the baby is in any harm, but that it is low enough that they don't want to let it go any longer. I look to Michael, somewhat relieved by this statement and realize we don’t have
my bag and I am starving because we didn’t eat breakfast, but we decide to wait
until we get into a room to get food and for him to go get the bag since I can’t
leave.
We call everyone and let them know what is going on and
about an hour later we are in our room (which is more like a small hotel room
than what I had expected, complete with couch, rocking chair, tv, etc). The nurses come in and are introducing
themselves and I ask where I can easily get food. The woman gives me a sad look, “you can’t
eat! You’ve been admitted, all you can have is jello and ice chips at this
point” my stomach gurgles. So as they are getting me set up for the Pitocin,
Michael takes off to go and get our overnight stuff. They check me, give me an IV and start the
meds just as Mike is getting back.
The contractions are getting very close together now – that Pitocin
works real quick. The anesthesiologist comes in to talk about
my option(s), though for me there is only one: drugs. I decide that I can wait a while until the
pain is really bad. After about an hour
on the Pitocin, I get a contraction that makes me burst into tears it hurts so
bad and all of a sudden like 10 people are in my room and they are doing a
bunch of stuff that I can’t see or understand.
A really nice doctor walks right up to me and holds my hand as he tells
me it’s going to be okay, the baby's heart rate has dropped because I had so
many contractions back to back and that it’s like the baby is holding his
breath. I am so scared at this point for
Parker. They tell me that they are going
to take me off of the Pitocin for a while to give me and the baby a little
break, but that they will be back in an hour to start it up again.
In the meanwhile, Mike and I play cards and read and I indulge
in television (since we don’t have cable).
4 hours later…they finally come back. The anesthesiologist comes and gives me an
epidural – which is not nearly as intimidating as everyone makes it out to
be. Yes the needle is big, but it’s not
that bad. They give it half an hour for
that to really kick in and then start up the Pitocin again. At this point I am 4 cm dilated. It is at this point that I also realize that I
am SO HUNGRY. I ask the nurse if I can get some jello but she tells me that
because I just had my epidural I can only have ice chips from this point
forward *insert sound of heart breaking here*. I get some ice chips and munch them as the
pain steadily increases despite the recent injection of highly numbing pain
meds – my utmost respect to those women out there who deliver drug free. Mike has a 15 minute timer set so that we can
hit the “more drugs” button as soon as possible. About an hour after they reinstate the Pitocin,
the nurse checks and I am 6cm dilated and tells me to call her if I need
her. It’s about 8:30pm at this point
(not completely sure because the clock was broken in my room). I have to have the anesthesiologist come in
several more times to give me a little something extra in my IV because I am in
so much pain. I am just laying there in
the bed balling as a squeeze Mike’s hand.
Within 30 minutes I have this sudden urge to push and I tell Mike to get
the midwife. She comes and checks me,
but I am still only about 6.5cm dilated.
She leaves and says she will check on me again in 30 minutes. 10 minutes later, I tell Mike he has to get
her again because I NEED TO PUSH. I start
pushing because it’s the only thing that alleviates the pain in any way. The midwife comes back and checks me again, I
am 9.5cm dilated and she says that its go time.
She starts to direct me in how to push.
And the pushing begins.
Roll this way, push push push. Roll that way, push push push. Roll again, push push push. The problem is that the baby is facing the
wrong way (at this point I can’t remember if it was up or down, but in any case
it was the wrong way). I am in so much
pain and so tired because it’s been forever since I ate something other than
ice chips – which Mike is feeding me every few minutes. Two hours pass and I am exhausted. I ask the midwife how much longer they are
going to make me push before they move to plan B. She says at this point I just have to keep
pushing. It has now been two hours and
just under forty-five minutes and in sobs, I ask her again “how long are you
going to make me keep pushing? I can’t
do this anymore.” By “this” I mean the
roll, push, roll push routine. In the
middle of all of this, Mike has become her second set of hands. He is simultaneously letting me squeeze the
crap out of his hand, holding my legs up as I push, helping me rotate every few
pushes, feeding me ice chips and telling me it’s okay and will be over
soon. Just as they are going to get the
doctor to prep me for a c-section, another midwife walks in and determinedly tells
me we are going to do this here and now.
She pops up these hand grips from the bed and has me pushing as hard as I
possibly can. Within minutes the baby’s
head is visible and I keep pushing.
After probably ten minutes of solid, no screaming allowed, non-stop
pushing, I feel the ring of fire and the baby’s head is out. Deep breath, bigger push, the baby is out and
on my chest and I am instantly in love.
I take a deep breath and am in awe of the little crying blood and goop
covered ball on my chest. They take him,
cut the cord and start to clean him up as they have me continue to push out the
placenta. Once that is out my words were
something along the lines of “oh dear God, I feel so much better, the pressure
is finally gone.” Then my next question
is “is it still Monday?” (We were hoping
that he would be born on Monday so that there was a little bit more time in
between his and Hailey’s birthdays, but he had a different plan) The midwife tells me that I have torn and
that she is going to stitch me up after she gives me a little extra pain
medication since it seems my epidural has worn off. She finishes up after about an hour and I get
to hold Parker for the first time. Pure
happiness and elation. I tell Mike that
this is probably the proudest moment of my life and that I can’t believe I actually
did it because towards the end, I really didn’t believe I could.
The three things I remember most but can’t really describe
are the ring of fire – which must have been when I tore, the feeling of Parker
on my chest and watching Parker getting cleaned off as they stitched me
up. He was born at 12:19am on Tuesday
August 23rd, weighing 7lbs 10 ozs and measuring 19.5in in
length. Perfection.
And now, three months later I think about how far we have
come from that point. How far we have
come from gently passing him back and forth like a china doll. How far we have come from sleeping on the big
chair in the living room for three nights straight when we first brought him
home because it was too uncomfortable to move from the stitches, etc. How far we have come from being scared that I
wasn’t feeding him enough before my milk came in and therefore letting him
nurse for 5 straight hours until my nipple actually started bleeding. How far we have come from waking up every
hour to feed him. I am so proud of
myself and so proud of Parker for all of our accomplishments over the last
three months and am so excited for everything that is ahead of us.
