(it's a long post folks... feel free to skip to the cute picture at the end at any time.)
Okay, I've been meaning to document the WHOLE story somewhere and I haven't quite finished it all in my journal (writing takes a lot longer than typing!).
My sister in law Sharsti, just posted hers, and I figured since her baby was born a week later than mine, it's about time.
Alright...
It was a dark, stormy night...
No, it wasn't really.
But it was late at night on the 26th that I started noticing my contractions were picking up in intensity. I contract basically throughout my entire pregnancy, so I was really looking for a change, before getting all excited. I had just barely made it to 37 weeks and was thrilled that this baby could make her arrival at any moment, and it seemed like the time had come! It was about 11pm then, so I decided to hang out a while before heading up to the hospital, just to make sure it was real. 2 hours later I knew that they weren't easing up and it was time!
I told Tanner that I was going alone (he was in a deep sleep) and that I'd call him once things were progressing enough. I hopped into the van, carefully, and called the Labor and Delivery department. As I got to the hospital I was met by the wicked witch of Rexburg, who treated me with such disrespect and unkindness. She told me that I parked in the wrong spot (who cares, I'm in labor!) and that with this being my 3rd baby, I better know my body well enough as to if I was in REAL labor or not. SCARY! I wanted to cry right away, but decided to give her the benefit of the doubt, maybe her dog died that day or she stubbed all of her toes on her right foot?
She wheeled me to my room, I got dressed, and she came back to ask me the bajillion questions they ask each time you visit. During a really strong contraction she asked if I had ever had a mammogram. I huffed a, "yes.... wait no." And boy did that set her off.
"Do you even KNOW what a mammogram is????"
Ummm yes, and please don't yell at me... I'm kinda in labor here.
ANYWAY....
The questions finally end and she checks me.
(okay, a little background is required here for you to understand my FULL frustration. I had been sitting at a 3-3 and half for the last 2 weeks. I had been checked by my doctor and 2 other nurses. I was pretty sure that I'd at least be at a 4 by this time...)
"You're at a 2. And I don't know WHO checked you before, but they're wrong!"
I may or may not have wanted to punch her... just a little bit.
So we decided it'd be best to wait there, considering my contractions which were clearly there, and were picking up in intensity. It would have been such a bummer to be sent home and then to head right back, so I was pleased (as pleased as I could be) with the idea of waiting there. I walked around, bounced, bathed, walked some more. Tanner finally showed up too, I'm guessing he figured I wasn't coming home anytime soon, but also knew that I needed better support than a witchy nurse.
2 hours later she checks again...
"Okay, now you're at a 2 and half."
AHHHHHHHHHHH!
But, since I had made SOME progress, they weren't sending me home yet!
So, what do I do??
Walk, rock, walk, lie down, and walk some more.
The nurse tells us that the doc will be in at 7am and we could wait to see him then. It was about 5am when she told us. So what do we do?
Walk, walk, wait, lie down, walk and wait some more.
At about 6:30 the nurses finally switch... or at least that's when I noticed SHE was gone! And a lovely nurse named Barbara was now assigned to me. By this point I was SO EXHAUSTED! I had been up ALL night, thinking my labor was progressing, but told it wasn't happening very quickly. My moral was low and I was close to ready to ASK to go home. The nurse assured me that the doc would be in soon, but asked if I'd like her to check me, since it had been a while since the last check. I was hesitant, because I was in no condition for bad news, but decided I was curious enough to find out now.
"You're about a 3 and half, almost 4!"
YAY!! Something had changed! She called the doc who told those nurses to finally ADMIT me! Up until this point I was still in the exam/waiting room! It was torture. SO, I get all comfy as possible in my new posh birthing suit. (Seriously, it seemed like the nicest place after spending so long in the other place) And a little while later my doctor came. He checks me too and says that I'm definitely a 4! YAY! It's real! This baby is really coming today!
I get an I.V. medication to help me rest a little, which helps a lot and then an hour or so later I'm at a 5. Doc is able to break my water then to help speed things up and I know at this point, that things are going to get tough, fast. Within an hour I'm contracting HARD and it's very painful, but I just go inside my head and control it all the best I can. I block everything, everyone, every sound out. And it works. No screaming or moaning from me. I'll just ignore you and maybe swipe your hand away if you try to touch me. A few hours later and I finally get the go ahead to start pushing. I'm told I'm not quite at a 10, but there's only a tiny bit of cervix left that Doc seemed confident that I could push to get rid of. With two strong pushes, that cervix disappeared (quicker than even he thought). It was baby time!
I gave it my all for about 3 rounds of pushes and her head was crowning. Now this is the hardest part for me, without an epidural. I feel EVERYTHING! I usually say something like, "Help, please, I don't know if I can do it." "Make it stop, please" and "I can't!" But moments later I'm told to push one more time and then it happens. She comes out! Her tiny little body is free and placed on my stomach. She's warm and crying and absolutely beautiful! That is by far the most marvelous, miraculous moment full of the very best feelings a human being can feel. I don't really cry, but I do laugh. I'm so overjoyed that I laugh. Weird, maybe, but that's just how I am. Tanner does too. We laughed the hardest when Layla was born though, I totally remember. It was great.
Then the moments after, when the baby is swept away and I lay there while doc does the rest. Well, it was a bit different this time.
Moments after they took her I hear, "She's bleeding out. I need pitocin."
Some yelling, from the normally SUPER calm doctor, to the nurse to get pitocin, "STAT!"
My head is slowly spinning an my vision is blurred.
I distinctly remember reading about a friend of mine who went through a similar, yet very severely different situation and had to be rushed to surgery.
I kept praying that it'd just stop NOW.
After the nurse ran in with the pitocin and squeezed the bag into my I.V.,
I could sense the atmosphere start to calm.
You know how the nurses massage your belly after delivery, and by massage I mean kill?
Well it was like a 100 times worse when they did it, because of the bleeding.
Thanks.
All in all though, It was great. I handled the pain well.
I never really freaked out.
Our baby was perfectly healthy and beautiful.
And it was just Tanner and I there to share the experience.
And now I'm just savoring all the sweet little moments with this pretty little girl...
