Part 2 is here.
We got to the hospital around 9am Wednesday. While being admitted, we were told about a woman who just a few hours before came into the hospital, and during her admission, screamed "It's coming!" and lay down on the floor and gave birth to her baby. Meanwhile her husband was rushing in with their two year old daughter dressed in only a diaper and bedraggled hair. He stood there after she pushed the baby out with a dazed look on his face and said, "I don't know how we're ever going to get that back seat cleaned!" A funny story, and it shows how dramatically different each woman's labor can be.
I was so nervous when they checked me, but was delighted to hear we were at 7cm and 90% effaced. I cried with relief. My contractions were doing what they were supposed to do. This gave me strength I really needed. As they lead us to our room, we passed one of the labor and delivery nurses who was also in labor. We had just taken the last room, and she was stuck laboring in the front area with nothing but a curtain to give her privacy. As thankful as I was to have a room, I said a silent prayer for her. Apparently every baby close to it's due date had decided to be born that day.
Once in our room they hooked up the telemetry unit to monitor baby. Things sounded good, which was another relief. Soon, we thought, soon we would see our baby. Our doctor arrived in good spirits, and suggested we break the bag of waters. I don't like any interventions, but in this case we thought it was a good idea. She promised we would see baby very soon after doing so. Remembering my 30 minute transition with Ladybug, I felt I could handle it this time if only we would meet our baby soon.
After she broke my water, besides contractions being slightly more intense, not much changed. For hours the contractions stayed at 10 minutes apart, 2 1/2 minutes long. When I was checked again, I was found to be at only 8cm. Discouraged, and tired, and ready to give up, our doctor suggested we get an IV to give baby and I fluids. And soon after that she suggested we get a small amount of pitocin to speed things up. Not five minutes after the pitocin was started in the IV, I entered (finally!) transition. And oh, what a transition it was.
Baby had still not turned, and though I tried my best to relax between contractions, there was not much time to. At some point, something changed, though I would not call it an urge to push, I knew it was time. Because I was so exhausted, I didn't have the strength I needed to squat, which especially in this case would have been ideal. I tried the up in the bed position, but the pushing contractions were so weak, I could barely feel them, and I was so weak, I could barely push.
Sunflower's heart rate really started dropping, and (I found out later) our doctor called in the "swat team" to section us right away if things didn't improve. At one point I opened my eyes to find my dh only to find he had been pushed towards the back of the room by all the extra nurses and looked more than a little worried. I had I don't know how many nurses twisting and turning my body to help baby descend and help me push. Eventually the doctor hooked up the vacuum extractor to Sunflower's little head to help her come out, and after quite a few more pushes with this help, our little girl was finally born sunny-side-up at 2:46pm.
Dh told me that her head looked like it had a rhinoceros horn on it, and she was very bruised and beat up. But she was otherwise healthy and beautiful and took to nursing like a champ. I felt like I had been hit by a train, every single muscle in my body was sore. But at this point I didn't care. I was thankful to finally hold my baby and not feel the pain of the contractions.
No comments:
Post a Comment