The elevator doors opened and we stepped onto the labor and delivery floor. I was hesitant to be "turned over" from our midwife, Pam, into the hands of strangers. To them, I was probably just an uneducated, irrational hippie who tried to have their baby at home and failed. I'm sure they expected a 5-page, laminated birth plan and a request to take home my placenta so I could eat it. The truth was, I just wanted a home birth so I could eat, drink, and wear whatever I wanted. So I wasn't restricted by a blood pressure cuff, straps on my belly, and an IV in my hand. So I could curl up with my baby in my own bed and fall in love with no time restrictions, no distractions.
The nurse, Missy, stood up and smiled, she knew I was coming and was expecting me. Her warmth and respectfulness lessened the blow of having to transfer from home. Maybe a hospital birth wasn't so bad after all. She led me to my new home for the next 24 hours, room number 9313. Between stopping to scream through contractions and holding on to Brad for dear life, I changed into one of those oh-so-comfortable-and-modest hospital gowns and Missy started a new IV in my other hand.
"We can't use the IV you already have, it's hospital policy that we have to start our own," she explained.
I understood. I bled all over the floor again as she was placing the needle, but this time I didn't have to worry about scrubbing the grout later. Another perk of a hospital birth, I suppose.
"And you're trying to do this natural, is that right?" She asked.
I had decided a long time ago, long before I was in labor, that if I had to transfer to the hospital I was getting an epidural. I knew I would only transfer if I couldn't take the pain, if something was wrong, or if I wasn't progressing.
"No, I'll take the epidural, please." I was ready to be done. Pain with progression is one thing...but this was pure torture.
As Missy started fluids and I was waiting for the epidural, I looked up and made eye contact with my older sister, Kasey. It must have been something in the way her baby sister was leaning over the hospital bed, hooked up to everything I never wanted to be hooked up to, screaming through each contraction and so helpless that made her lose it and leave the room. As hard as everything I was going through was on me, it was hard on my family, too. I could see it in their eyes.
Around 4:15 am the nurse anesthetist came with the epidural. She was short, blonde, and young and I could tell my mom was nervous that she might be inexperienced. I had no bias, just give me the juice whoever you are. She had a young male with her, a student. She asked if it was ok that he observed. Normally I'm pretty reserved and modest, but for some reason I said that was fine. Maybe I was afraid to hurt his feelings, or had a soft spot for students since I was a nursing student not too long ago, or maybe by that point I just didn't care. Only one person could stay in the room while she was placing the epidural, so Brad stayed glued to my side while my mom and 2 sisters left the room.
Out of all the gross, bloody, unnatural things I've done and seen as a nurse, nothing had ever made me queasy except for the first time I saw an epidural being placed. I knew what was coming as I leaned over Brad and tried to hold still. I told her probably 5 times that if I had a contraction while she was working, she would have to stop because there's no way I could sit still through that while she was digging a needle in my spine. I was borderline panicky as a contraction hit. She had raised the bed up so my feet were dangling and Brad couldn't reach to squeeze my hips. I couldn't move through the contraction so it hurt even worse. Once she was finished prepping my back she warned me before she started to penetrate.
"You're going to feel a pop and then lots of pressure," she said.
Awesome. Another reason I wanted a home birth.
The pop was more of a crunch as she pushed the needle through the ligaments in my back and began searching for the epidural space to place the catheter. I kept my head down, arms wrapped around Brad and held tightly. This will all be over soon, I thought, and then the pain will be gone. But it wasn't over soon. And the pain was far from gone. Minutes passed by and I was getting hot and sweaty buried in Brad's chest. It started to feel like she was digging in my back, like my nerves were guitar strings and she was plucking out her favorite tune.
"What's taking so long, is something wrong?" I asked desperately.
"I just have to take my time to make sure I don't go too deep, there's a lot of swelling," she said somewhat defensively. Oh please don't go too deep, I thought. She finally placed the catheter, but something felt off.
"Does it feel like it's on one side more than the other?" She asked.
"Yes! The right, the right!"
"Ok, well that should even out once it starts flowing," she said as she started the medication. There was a cold wave that trickled down my back. Yes, this means relief will start soon. I hadn't felt no pain since, well, 8 months pregnant maybe?
By 4:35 am it had been almost exactly 24 hours since my water had broken and Missy placed a Foley catheter and checked my cervix. I was still 4 cm, no surprise. I was put on penicillin to prevent infection and Missy turned down the lights and left the room. All we could do now was wait. I was lying on the left, hoping gravity would make the epidural flow to my left side where I was still feeling the contractions. It was just me, Brad, and my mom in the room and it was the first moment I had to really process what was happening.
"This is really hard," I whispered to Brad and my lip started to quiver.
"I know, baby. It is hard," he whispered back.
We started to cry together as we held hands, but I wouldn't let myself get carried away. I couldn't let my mind go or I had nothing. I had to stay ahead of everything that was happening to me or I would fall apart. The moment passed quickly as I started shivering uncontrollably and itching and sweating profusely. The nurse came back and said that itching can be a side effect of the epidural, and she gave me a dose of Benadryl. I immediately felt loopy, it was like being drunk and I decided I would never get Benadryl again, no matter how itchy I was. I tried to get some rest since I had been awake for over 24 hours, but I was so uncomfortable, itchy, and still trembling so it was nearly impossible.
At 6:10 am they started me on Pitocin to help me progress. The contractions started coming every 2 to 3 minutes and I was still very hot and uncomfortable. They checked my temperature and it was 99.2. I was trying to lower my temp with a cold rag, a fan, and pure willpower because I knew if I got a fever it could be a sign of an infection. By 7:02 am the epidural had left my legs feeling in a perpetual state of being asleep. It was as if all my nerves were firing at once, and I couldn't stand to have anyone touch them. Just the bed sheet resting on my skin caused me to cringe.
At 8:15 am Dr. J came into the room to check my progress. I held back tears as the nurses lifted my legs so I could be checked. I asked if it was normal for my legs to feel this way with an epidural and she said, not really. Great. Can anything else go wrong?
"You're not ruptured, honey," she said as the nurse handed her an amni-hook in one swift motion.
Ummmm, ya right. I told her about the gushing for hours, how it had vernix in it.
"It could've been urine, or you have a fore-bag of waters."
Well I knew it wasn't urine, so it must have been a fore-bag. She explained how there can be an extra pocket of fluid sometimes, and tried to draw us a picture on the whiteboard. I had never heard of such a thing, but Brad called it our "time-saver", because they counted that as my water breaking from then on. She then said I could try for a vaginal birth, but if I don't progress then I would need a c-section. It was the first time someone had used the dreaded "c-word", but it was far from the last.
As Brad and my mom tried to readjust me after getting checked, my right leg somehow FELL off the bed! If the pain and tingling wasn't bad enough in my legs, now one of them was hanging to the side and I was too helpless to move it.
"MY LEG! MY LEG!" I was screaming and crying and pointing to my right leg like I had dropped something. It makes me laugh now every time I think about Brad playing hot potato with my right leg as he's trying to toss it back on the bed while I'm screaming, "DON'T TOUCH IT!" With 3 pillows stuffed between my legs and back on my left side I was finally able to relax enough to nap for about an hour and a half.
By 11 am Dr. J came back to check me and I had finally progressed to 5-6 cm. I was given another dose of penicillin and immediately the itching returned. I told the nurse I think I might be allergic to penicillin, but she argued this time it was probably a side effect of the Pitocin. For some reason I thought I better switch to my right side around 12:30 pm, and I started to feel the contractions even worse in my left side. "No, no, no, no. I can't feel these again, I can't!" I said to Brad. Once I had gotten the epidural I had mentally let my guard down. I expected the epidural to relieve my suffering, and when it didn't I wasn't prepared. My body tensed up through every contraction as I felt the familiar tightening ebb and flow. I switched back to my left side and hit the pca button to try to get numb.
At 1:05 pm Dr. G checked me and I was 8 cm! We were all so ecstatic, that means I would be pushing soon and I would finally get to meet my baby! I was still gripping the left hand rail of my bed for dear life, as you can see in the pictures.
By 1:25 pm a new nurse anesthetist came and boosted my epidural. HALLELUJAH! No more pain on the left and no more tingling in my legs! I was finally feeling good, and my sisters helped me get "pretty for pushing". Well, as pretty as I could get for being disgusting. Brad's mom came at 1:40, and by 3:15 I had a new nurse named Alice. Alice had been given the nickname, "the closer", because moms always seemed to deliver on her shift. She checked me again and I was 8-9 cm and starting to feel more pressure. I was progressing, comfortable, and we had "the closer". Everything was looking good for a November 25th baby.
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