Baby iqeb's belated birth story
Apr 28, 2017 14:35:48 GMT -5
Post by iqeb on Apr 28, 2017 14:35:48 GMT -5
Monday April 10th I had my first mild, painless contractions. At my appointment I was 2.5 centimeters dilated and 40 percent effaced. My mom's flight arrived that night as scheduled.
Tuesday morning I woke up with some cramping and contractions. Starting at 2am the contractions were 10 to 30 minutes apart and mild. They didn't change much as I got up and walked the dog with my mom at 7am. We made some breakfast and the toddler nursed. At first nothing changed, so I started nursing her on the other side. And then the contractions were suddenly about 2 minutes apart. I assumed it was a transient effect of nursing and unlatched her, but that was the beginning of the end. H took the dog to daycare and my mom and H went out for a few groceries. While they were out I realized that anytime I got up I had a contraction that wouldn't stop, so I just kind of stayed sitting on the sofa. They got back and my mom took a quick shower. I told H it was time to grab last minute items for our bags. Then we called the hospital and got told to come in immediately, otherwise we might be diverted to another hospital as they were almost full! Five minutes later we were walking out the door. It was 10:20am.
Away from the distraction of my toddler I started to realize just how much more serious these contractions were compared with the ones I had on the drive to the hospital with my previous labor. Last time my H parked and we walked in together. This time there was no way I could do that. He pulled up to the curb and asked for a wheelchair for me. He went to park and I was wheeled to the elevator. The person pushing my wheelchair yelled for people to get out of the way saying "we have an emergency" and all I could think was how unnecessarily dramatic that was.
It was now about 10:45am. Upstairs I was immediately taken to a triage room and asked if I was feeling an urge to push. Again, this felt overly dramatic. I was still worried that I wouldn't be at a 4 yet and would be sent home. My H made it to the room, and a doctor came in and asked me if I wanted an epidural immediately. I said yes. He said they would get me to a room and get me an epidural. Then he checked me, and I was at a 9. The plan got downgraded to getting me a room and getting me fentanyl. For five minutes or so the doctors and nursing kept asking each other if the fentanyl order had gotten approved yet. But based on how I was acting they decided I needed another check first, and I was already at a 10 so it was too late for fentanyl too, and too late to move me to a room. Instead I was promised fentanyl as soon as the baby was out. The doctors and nurses assured me that it wasn't going to take long, especially if I consented to membrane rupture. I did, they did, and I started pushing in earnest.
I wouldn't say pushing was pleasant, but it was like vomiting after a lot of nausea. My body just sort of did it and I was along for the ride. At one point I had what felt like a very long break between contractions, although in reality it was probably only about 2 minutes. I felt so at peace and relaxed during that short break, and then the almost nonstop contractions resumed. I didn't particularly feel a ring of fire, although the baby coming out did feel super strange. And then he was on my chest, and it was over. He was born at 11:33am weighing 0.1 ounce shy of 8 pounds and 19.5 inches long. The fact that there was another contraction to birth the placenta took me sort of by surprise, but it was only one contraction and one push. The repair afterwards may have been when I most missed the epidural, to be honest. I hate needles, and while I was mostly numb I could still feel pulling and pinching the whole time, which made it hard to not think about what was happening. We did a lot of skin to skin and nursing, and a few hours later were moved from the triage room to a mom baby room. Less than 24 hours after we arrived at the hospital we were taking our baby boy home to meet his sister, dog, and grandma.
I went into my first labor hoping to go med free. I practiced mindfulness, I prepared, I thought of contractions as tightening rather than pain. I practiced relaxing and resting in between. And yet, after 16 hours of contractions every four minutes I was done. I got an epidural at that point, and it was amazing. I vowed to get one again this time. I didn't prepare for this labor at all. Finding out I couldn't even have fentanyl was a low moment, and I pretty much spent the rest of my very short labor saying over and over again that I didn't want to do it like this, I couldn't do it, etc. Pretty much the opposite of what you're supposed to say. And yet, I labored at home through transition, enjoyed the respite between contractions, and pushed out a baby with no pain relief. If I had only had my first labor, I would think I was a wimp. If I had only had my second, I would think I was a badass. Every labor is different.
Tuesday morning I woke up with some cramping and contractions. Starting at 2am the contractions were 10 to 30 minutes apart and mild. They didn't change much as I got up and walked the dog with my mom at 7am. We made some breakfast and the toddler nursed. At first nothing changed, so I started nursing her on the other side. And then the contractions were suddenly about 2 minutes apart. I assumed it was a transient effect of nursing and unlatched her, but that was the beginning of the end. H took the dog to daycare and my mom and H went out for a few groceries. While they were out I realized that anytime I got up I had a contraction that wouldn't stop, so I just kind of stayed sitting on the sofa. They got back and my mom took a quick shower. I told H it was time to grab last minute items for our bags. Then we called the hospital and got told to come in immediately, otherwise we might be diverted to another hospital as they were almost full! Five minutes later we were walking out the door. It was 10:20am.
Away from the distraction of my toddler I started to realize just how much more serious these contractions were compared with the ones I had on the drive to the hospital with my previous labor. Last time my H parked and we walked in together. This time there was no way I could do that. He pulled up to the curb and asked for a wheelchair for me. He went to park and I was wheeled to the elevator. The person pushing my wheelchair yelled for people to get out of the way saying "we have an emergency" and all I could think was how unnecessarily dramatic that was.
It was now about 10:45am. Upstairs I was immediately taken to a triage room and asked if I was feeling an urge to push. Again, this felt overly dramatic. I was still worried that I wouldn't be at a 4 yet and would be sent home. My H made it to the room, and a doctor came in and asked me if I wanted an epidural immediately. I said yes. He said they would get me to a room and get me an epidural. Then he checked me, and I was at a 9. The plan got downgraded to getting me a room and getting me fentanyl. For five minutes or so the doctors and nursing kept asking each other if the fentanyl order had gotten approved yet. But based on how I was acting they decided I needed another check first, and I was already at a 10 so it was too late for fentanyl too, and too late to move me to a room. Instead I was promised fentanyl as soon as the baby was out. The doctors and nurses assured me that it wasn't going to take long, especially if I consented to membrane rupture. I did, they did, and I started pushing in earnest.
I wouldn't say pushing was pleasant, but it was like vomiting after a lot of nausea. My body just sort of did it and I was along for the ride. At one point I had what felt like a very long break between contractions, although in reality it was probably only about 2 minutes. I felt so at peace and relaxed during that short break, and then the almost nonstop contractions resumed. I didn't particularly feel a ring of fire, although the baby coming out did feel super strange. And then he was on my chest, and it was over. He was born at 11:33am weighing 0.1 ounce shy of 8 pounds and 19.5 inches long. The fact that there was another contraction to birth the placenta took me sort of by surprise, but it was only one contraction and one push. The repair afterwards may have been when I most missed the epidural, to be honest. I hate needles, and while I was mostly numb I could still feel pulling and pinching the whole time, which made it hard to not think about what was happening. We did a lot of skin to skin and nursing, and a few hours later were moved from the triage room to a mom baby room. Less than 24 hours after we arrived at the hospital we were taking our baby boy home to meet his sister, dog, and grandma.
I went into my first labor hoping to go med free. I practiced mindfulness, I prepared, I thought of contractions as tightening rather than pain. I practiced relaxing and resting in between. And yet, after 16 hours of contractions every four minutes I was done. I got an epidural at that point, and it was amazing. I vowed to get one again this time. I didn't prepare for this labor at all. Finding out I couldn't even have fentanyl was a low moment, and I pretty much spent the rest of my very short labor saying over and over again that I didn't want to do it like this, I couldn't do it, etc. Pretty much the opposite of what you're supposed to say. And yet, I labored at home through transition, enjoyed the respite between contractions, and pushed out a baby with no pain relief. If I had only had my first labor, I would think I was a wimp. If I had only had my second, I would think I was a badass. Every labor is different.
