My Labor Story:
This is a general time line of “my labor story.” I don't remember some of the details; some I asked Craig for and others I generalized. Please keep in mind that the details may seem mundane but, I want to keep this as a record of the experience for myself. Perhaps it will help me for future labors and births as we would still like to have four children...maybe.
Warning: I left nothing big or little out so, this is not for the modest or squeamish.
8/7 – Three days overdue
I woke up to a runny nose (a symptom that labor may be soon). I thought that I had lost all of my mucus plug previously. Boy was I wrong! I continued to loose more and more throughout the day. Craig and I took a walk around the park in hopes that it would help things out and get labor started. I began to have some regular Braxton Hicks contractions in the evening that petered out once I laid down to rest. It was not the big day.
8/8 – Four days overdue
Once again, I woke up to a runny nose, coupled with a very weepy/emotional and dizzy feeling. Almost a flu like feeling (another symptom of labor). The mucus plug loss continued throughout the day, tinged with fresh blood. Obviously dilation was beginning to speed up and labor was imminent. Yay!
12:00 pm I began having headache, which is not common for me. I also began to feel dizzy and have a dry mouth. More good signs.
6:30pm Craig arrived home from work, which I was thankful for because I didn't want to go into labor while he was at work.
8:20pm I felt the first serious contraction while laying on my left side, after what seemed to be a little popping sound in my belly. Perhaps it was her arm moving into a better position or something? I am not sure. The contraction that followed took my breath away. It was definitely a “different” feeling contraction from a Braxton Hicks contraction. I continued to lay on my left side, and the contractions continued; whereas, on previous evenings this was not the case. Gradually, laying down was no longer comfortable no matter how many pillows I supported my body with.
9:20 I was still having contractions so, Craig went to get things accomplished around the house (ie. shave etc. :-D)"just in case." We called our doula, just to give her a heads up being that it was late in the evening and that she has three of her own children.
10:15 My contractions began getting more painful. I was going to try to rest upright (as laying down no longer seemed like an option) and try to occupy my mind by watching TV. By this point I was experiencing lots of pain. Too much to even consider watching TV. We called our doula, and the doctor to let them know what was going on.
11:45 Jeanie (our doula) got to the house. I could not have been more happy as I was counting down the minutes until she arrived. At this point I was still able to talk between the contractions and smile here and there. As contractions continued to get worse, I realized that any sitting, kneeling, or laying positions were very painful. I avoided them all. Instead, I labored standing in the shower until we ran out of hot water and then hug/hanging from Craig. Things were already very intense. So much so that I began puking. I am not the kind of person who pukes often so, this was bad news bears for me!
8-9-10
1:00am We decided to leave the house and head to the hospital. My contractions were already very painful and our doula did not want to wait any longer just in case I was further along than we anticipated. We got ourselves all packed up and left the house at to head to the hospital. The car ride logistics were interesting as I did not want to sit down for anything. I also had to keep a bucket to puke in near by. We realized that I would not fit into the back of the car, with the car seat, on all fours. I chose to kneel, facing backwards with with seat down, in the front seat. I am sure that anyone we drove past wondered what was going on! The ride was not a pleasant experience, but I found a happy little corner of my mind and zoned into it. I was in for 30 minutes of painful travel.
Once we got to the emergency area of the hospital (it was after hours), we headed up to labor and delivery. They checked me into their “temporary” room to check my progress. I was 3-4 cm dilated. Time to be admitted!
In the labor/delivery room I begrudgingly got my saline lock IV. The first attempt did not work so, they tried in the other arm. Both times on the outside of my forearm to give me more range of motion. Having the IV done seemed like a cake walk compared to the pain I was experiencing from the contractions.
I opted to labor in my own clothes instead of a hospital gown. I really did not care if I ruined them. I just wanted to feel more in control of the situation. (I did end up ruining them as I puked often while I was laboring.) I labored in the shower, standing, and on the toilet. I reclined in the tub for a short while but also found this uncomfortable.
When ever I needed to be checked for dilation, or to be put on the monitor, I was not a happy camper. I did not like the idea of sitting for even one minute! I begrudgingly did as I was told. If I remember correctly, they have you lay for monitoring once an hour, for 20 min. This seemed like an eternity. Progress seemed very slow to me and I was not checked or told my progress except a couple of times (by choice). Also, during all of my laboring my water broke, and continued to trickle out here and there during contractions.
At some point we discussed an epidural, as my back felt like I was on fire (Juliet was posterior -facing the wrong way). I also felt like she was pushing down on my pelvic bone in an odd way. I was so torn about the pain I was experiencing. An epidural was the last thing I wanted. I was tired, and starting to give in. My doula talked me into getting back in the shower, and trying to go just a little bit further. I did.
The nurses in the room seemed very bored by the whole 17 hours of labor up to that point. They were not the nicest, and one even seemed to fall asleep in a chair on the other side of the room. I also remember their “telling” looks at one another when they checked my progress (I had asked not to be told). It seemed as though they were telling each other, I am bored to tears and I hope that this chick gives up soon. I was later told by Craig that most of the nurses found me to be the most polite lady in labor. Perhaps I should have been yelling at them and pitching a fit to keep them entertained! Hah! Not me though, I was saying please and thank you until the very end. I even stopped here and there to ask Craig how he was doing, much to his amazement, even when I was pushing.
After around 17 hours of labor I was checked again and found to be 8-9 cm dilated. I was no longer able to withstand the excruciating back pain (like being burned alive- no exaggeration) and was entirely exhausted from standing most of the time. My legs began to swell and burn from standing so much. I can remember looking down and seeing stretch mark like lines on the inside of my thigh beginning to appear from the swelling. They were beginning to grow weak. At this point, we did not think I would be strong enough to be able to push with any effect. I gave in and asked for an epidural to try to rest a little bit before I began to push. It also felt to me that Juliet was just sitting on my pelvic bone. I did not feel as if she seemed to be moving down at all but, what did I know at this point!
In order to get the epidural I had to give in and agree to lay down to have continuous monitoring for myself, and Juliet. I also had to agree to have a full bag of saline before they would do it. This has to do with the change in your blood pressure when you have an epidural. Waiting for the bag of fluid to slowly drip into my system was TORTURE. Laying on my back was terrible. I just could not escape the pain I was having. Emotionally I was scared to have the epidural and all of the consequences it would/could have.
With a seriously torn heart, I agreed to have the epidural. I had hoped it would be just enough pain relief for me to rest, and then push. What I didn't realize at the time was what the next three hours would bring, and it was a very good thing that I agreed to the epidural.
The anesthesiologist was called, he was with someone else, so I had to wait. No one wants to wait when they are in pain. Especially not after making a difficult decision like having the epidural. I wanted it over and done with. When he finally got there, I realize that he was not a kind person. He rambled through many health related questions, which I foggily answered. I really relied on Craig to speak for me because I was so incoherent and exhausted. He also rambled through the potential complications, including death, with a cold voice. Not a sympathetic bone in his body. Not a person I would ever want to meet again. If I do, I would consider giving him a talking to.
Epidural number one....yes....number one.
Having the epidural done felt like nothing. It didn't phase me at all. Although having to have everyone in the room sit while he was doing it, nurses included, was unnerving. I was in so much pain already that I really did not care at this point. I was just happy that I was having it done between the contractions so I could continue to wiggle and move around during them. I hopped that the epidural would be a quick thing. It was not. More laying and waiting. I was; of course, petrified at how my body would handle the drug. I made every effort during my pregnancy not to take ANYTHING (beyond my thyroid meds and prenatal vitamin). Not even a Tylenol. This amount of a drug freaked me out. I did not like the idea at all.
The drawbacks of an epidural are numerous. You have to lay flat on your back for the rest of labor, for obvious reasons. This limits you to only being able to push laying on your back. You must be catheterized, seeing as you can no long move about freely to use the bathroom. You, and the baby, are put on continuous monitoring. (I found this to be somewhat uncomfortable. At one point, I even asked if the volume on Juliet's heart rate could be turned down because I found myself listening to it a little bit to closely and worrying myself when it changed.) You must have IV fluids before, and pitocin after. Recovery is long, as the drug wears off slowly. I think this was doubly true for me, probably due to the fact that I had two epidurals.
At some point around the time I had the epidural, I began to shake badly. I really don't remember if it was before or after the epidural was given. I think it was before but, I really can't say. I continued to shake for the rest of the labor, delivery and for at least a few hours postpartum.
Once given, I began to feel the epidural take over my left leg. It was a slow thing, and a very strange feeling. I was continuously asked if I could feel anything. I could still feel my whole right side/leg and move my foot on my left side just fine. I had no relief in my back. We waited and waited. Nothing. It was decided that I needed to have my epidural “redone.” Ugh.
In came the anesthesiologist. He did not seem happy, as if it was possible for him to have any less bedside manors. I knew the drill, and did as I was told. This time, I was having a contraction when he decided to get started. I begged for him to wait until it was over. Craig later told me that he huffed and puffed, and seemed perturbed that he had to wait. He only had to wait a minute or so but, he was still unhappy. I will keep my unkind words about him to myself. I hope I never meet the man again.
I started to have better coverage once the second epidural was done but, it took a long time for me to get good and numb. I was able to move my feet for a really long time, and was able to feel my abdomen and back pretty much until the end. This was terrible as the burning sensation I felt was located in my back and continued on.
The plan after I had the epidural was for me to rest for the last cm of dilation, so that I would have some energy to push. I was so freaked out, due to the medication (and shaking badly) resting was really not something that ever happened. Or at least it did not seem to me like it happened.
At some point while I “rested,” Craig needed to take a little break for some food. My dad had brought him some, and sat with me for a little while while Craig “rested.” I can remember the look on my dad's face when he saw me. He looked very worried and heartbroken to see me in so much pain. I can only imagine what I must have looked like to him.
Time to push.
When I was finally fully dilated it was time to push. The details from here on out for me are very vague and my memories are blurred from the shaking, and the panic that I experienced. I do remember the fact that Juliet was not moving around my pelvic bone, and seemed to be stuck where she was. This was one of the problems that caused me to push for three hours.
Before I began to push, my doctor decided to break my water, with an amni hook. If you were following closely you may have just complained that it already broke! It did. There are two different reasons for the “double” bag. One is that the bag of water is technically composed of two layers, the inner layer (the amnion), and the chorion. They become fused as pregnancy progresses. There can sometimes be a pocket of fluid between the layers, and its theorized that sometimes the outer layer can break and release some fluid while the inner layer remains intact. The other (more likely) story is that Juliet's head, or another body part, had blocked off part of the bag of water causing this area to still hold fluid. So the area of fluid that did not leak out on its own, had to be ruptured to help her come out the rest of the way. Boy did she need all of the help she could get!
My doula had brought lavender oil with her, which she had occasionally used to give me massages throughout labor, and at this point she handed it over to my doctor to use. It was heavenly to smell during the massages in the beginning of labor and was then used to help my doctor in preventing an epesiotomy. (The added bonus was that Juliet was born smelling like lavender and continued to smell like lavender while we were in the hospital. Oh, and the lavender smell was nice to have in the delivery room when well....things happen when you are in labor and are pushing that don't smell good....you get the picture. Yuck!)
After lots and lots of pushing, we realized that she was not moving down. Her head was facing the wrong way, and was cocked to the side transversely. My doctor decided that he would try to manually persuade her to turn and come down by turning her head. Apparently each time he tried to turn her head, she would turn it back the other way. Pretty much turning against his hand. She would also pull her head back up, or in -how ever you look at it. My doctor exclaimed that she was the darnedest kid that he had ever seen! She seemed to be happy where she was and strongly protesting her eviction. My doctor also noted another cause for the delay in her movement. The plates in her hear were not moving. When babies are descending, the soft plates in their skull are meant to overlap and squeeze together making birth possible and easier for both mother and baby. We were not so lucky. The plates in her head stayed put, which led lots of tearing for me and to another intervention.
At this point my doctor decided to use the vacuum. He, of course, went over the risks and benefits with us before doing so. I could tell by the look on his face that this was a last ditch effort. It was this or a possible c-section. He did not say it directly but, I could tell. After labor, he agreed that he did not think I was going to be able to have her vaginally but, thank heavens he gave me the benefit of the doubt and let me solider on. I also think the fact that Juliets heart rate was good helped with the decision to continue on.
I was so out of it, and so focused on the pushing and my job, that I barely realized what was going on with the vacuum. I do remember one scary thing that happened though. He was pulling (with ALL of his might) to get her out when the vacuum sent him flying backwards. At first Craig and I were not sure if he had pulled her whole darn head off or not but, we quickly realized that it had just lost suction and because he was pulling so hard he flew back. Still a VERY scary sight and sound! I can't imagine the force he was using....well I can. My body told (and still tells) the story of all of it.
During pushing I had to be reminded to breath (yes... you really do have to be reminded). Somewhere during all of it I needed oxygen, which from what I gather gave me some finial strength although, I do not remember feeling any additional help and barely remember having the oxygen held up to my face. At this point I definitely thought I was dieing. I don't mean this in an overly dramatic way, I mean it literally. I was fighting so hard to push and stay awake. I felt like I was constantly fighting back from passing out. I jumped forward often, as if having a panic attack and sucked in terrible breaths when I felt like I was passing out. It was torture. I won't lie or candy coat it. It was the worst thing mentally and pain wise that I have ever been though in my life times ten thousand. I liken the feeling of posterior back labor to being burned alive. After going through this I never want to be there again...ever....
Juliet was born at 17:17 ( 5:17 pm) on 8-9-10 after 21 hours of labor. I can fuzzily remember her being born, although there was no instant smile or cheers from me. She was laid on my chest and all I felt was relief. That she was born, and alive, and from what I could tell was healthy. As depressing as it sounds, at the time all I could think of was that if I was going to die or pass out that I could go ahead and do it because I had seen her precious face. I was not instantly happy. Just still in a nasty fog of pain, stress and exhaustion. I felt guilty that I was so confused and in shock that happiness really did not take center stage for awhile. I am sure all of the puking and lack of food did not help. It took me quite some time to really come around to what had happened, and that it was “over.” While Juliet was being cleaned up on my chest by the nurses, my doctor got to work on me.
I had quite a lot of “damage” from all of the labor and delivery. Craig later told me that my doctor was quite relieved, and said so, when he got a few of the larger bleeders to stop bleeding. My doctor stitched and sewed for around 30 min or more. (A c-section generally only takes around 45 min from start to finish. Yikes! I still have stitches today, 8 weeks postpartum.) When he was finished stitching, he stood and the first thing he told me that he did some fancy stitching and that things would be different for me from here on out. At the time I was not sure exactly what he had meant, although I knew that I had not had an episiomtomy. I was glad for that but did know really know what had happened. I was thankful that the epidural had numbed me to what he was doing. I had already been through enough.
I continued to shake (for hours after wards) and was thankful when Juliet and I were wrapped in a heavenly warm blanket. My doula helped me remember that I wanted to breastfeed Juliet very soon after she was delivered. From what I can remember, she scooted around on my chest and rooted for awhile and we clumsily got her to latch on for a bit but, she was tired, and so was I. We decided not to force her and with that my doula said her goodbyes.
Of course during this time, Juliet was checked out, weighed, measured, and bathed. I did not hear or remember what I was told about her measurement. It took a day or so before those would stick in my head. She still smelled like lavender. I loved it. People were told the news, and things were cleaned up. A few pictures were taken here and there (we almost didn't have any of her birth and delivery as our camera could not be located and we had to borrow my parents camera). All of the normal post birth things took place. I was in a foggy, shaky dream world. Well after I was moved into my recovery room I stayed in this state. All of the grandparents came in and held her. I don't remember any of the conversations that took place. I was happy that the focus was on Juliet so I could just sit in my own little world. It took about a day before I began to have some semi-normal thinking again. It was days before I felt like I could think clearly. I was thankful to have the support of the nurses and my friends and family while I was so out of it. I mostly just remembered to say please and thank you to everyone and figured that it would carry me until I felt like myself again and could have some normal conversation. I looked forward to feeling back to myself but, I don't think that ever happens once you have had a baby. You become a new person. I think I went through my own kind of birth when I had Juliet. I entered into the world a new, albeit shaking, mother.
Our recovery in the hospital and the days that followed will have to be another story.
You're one tough (polite) cookie!
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