Wednesday, February 16th, 2005: I'm officially one day past-due, and like any overdue pregnant woman, I head out for my magical, labor-inducing pedicure and Mexican food. Sure enough, in the middle of my tortilla soup and fajita taco with my toes painted Thrill of Brazil Red, contractions begin to hit. (times are approximate)
10:00 pm: I've gotten ready for bed, but am still having contractions 5 minutes apart, lasting about a minute. It's been an hour and a half already, so I'm wondering if this is the real deal. My childbirth class recommended going to the hospital after an hour of similar contractions, but seeing as I already had a false alarm on Monday, there's no way I'm going until I'm certain I'm in labor...
11:30 pm: "Dude, these really hurt!", I tell my husband as I breathe through another contraction. By now, I've resorted to sitting on my birthing ball to help ease the pain. It's been three hours now, contractions are still the same, so we decide to head to the hospital. En route, my contractions stop momentarily. "You've got to be kidding me! - How can I have them for 3 hours and now they stop?" Within a couple of minutes, they've started up again. "Okay, keep driving."
Thursday, February 17th, 2005 12:15 am: We've made it to the hospital, and I sit at the nurse's station while they finish cleaning our room. Here comes another one - breathe , breathe. We finally make it to the room and I get connected to the contraction and fetal monitors. I watch the monitor intensely as I listen to the little "whoosh whoosh" of my baby's heart. The nurse checks me and I'm 90% effaced and dilated to a 2. Thank you God!
2:15 am: My contractions have started becoming sporadic, but they've decided to go ahead and admit me to the hospital. I breathe through another contraction while my IV is inserted into my hand - ouch! They've started Penicillin in my IV and it stings like crazy. This better be the real thing!
4:00 am: I've tried to sleep, but it's nearly impossible with the excitement so I've been keeping busy watching American Chopper reruns, the Slam Dunk competition, and the World's Strongest Man competition. Not a lot on at this time of the day. My poor hubby is asleep in the recliner next to me, burning up with fever. My contractions slowed down again, so I'm off to walk the halls to hopefully get this started again.
5:45 am: My contractions are still irregular, so the nurse comes in and offers me an enema - thanks, but I'll pass. She says that my doctor will be in to see me sometime after 8 am and will then decide whether I go home or stay and get Pitocin. I'm thinking "I'm not going home after all of this!"
7:00 am: Up in the halls again, walking. Come on labor. Do your thing.
8:00 am: My doctor is here to see me. I'm still 90% effaced, but dilated to a 3. He offers to break my water to get things going. Hey, help yourself! Within seconds, my membranes are ruptured and I'm realizing that this really is going to happen today. We're going to have a baby!
8:45 am: My contractions still aren't as close as they'd like, so my nurse hangs the ever-dreaded Pitocin. It doesn't take long to work, and pretty soon my contractions are right on top of each other. Heeee-Hooooh. Somehow this breathing stuff is supposed to work, right?
9:45 am: (or somewhere close to there) I ask for the epidural. I'm really not doing well with this pain thing anymore. I'm told it will "take a while", because I have to get fluids first and then wait on the anesthesiologist. On the nurse's advice, I decide to get some pain meds IV. After that, things get a little blurry...
10:30 am: I've been sleeping since I received Stadol and Phenergan, and the anesthesiologist is ready for my epidural. My nurse sits me on the side of the bed and tells me to lean against her... so sleepy.. yow! I wince as the lidocaine goes into my back. "I'm so sorry! I dozed off!" I concentrate on being still as he tries to finish. My epidural is in very quickly and I lay down as another contraction hits... Heeeeeeeeh. Hooooooooh. The next few hours are a drug-induced fog... Somewhere around 11 am, the nurse checks me and tells me I'm 100% effaced and dilated to 8. We're not far off now. She tells me to let her know if I feel sick or uncomfortable, and I'm back to sleep.
1:15 pm: I can't get comfortable in bed. I feel hot, stiff. My nurse decides to check again, and says, "you're there - 10cm". You're ready to push. With the next contraction, I start pushing, which is not easy considering I can't feel anything below my waist. I keep getting dizzy when I lay on my back, so as soon as the contraction is over, they roll me on my side. The nurse suggests getting out the mirror for me to see what's going on down there when my pushing is not the most effective. At first, I'm like "No way - don't want to see it." But she convinces me, and I have to admit, seeing what I was doing when I was pushing helped me a lot, and seeing that little head of brown hair was a great motivator. I believe I pushed for a little over an hour when my nurse decided the baby was where it needed to be, and went to get my doctor. Amazingly, although I couldn't feel anything up to that point, I started feeling the urge to bear down. "Not yet, not until the doctor gets here!" I remember learning to pretend to blow a candle out to get past the urge from my childbirth class, so I start that, and it helps. Luckily, my doc walks in shortly thereafter...
We wait for another contraction so I can push. And wait. And wait. Finally - a contraction! I do my set of three pushes, but it's not enough. We wait again... Okay, deep breath in and push, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. Push, push, push. I can feel her come out. Okay, don't push! The doc suctions her mouth and nose and gets the cord from around her neck. It's 2:54 pm, I hear someone say. My baby is here. From what I can see, she is perfect, pink, breathing. They lay her on my chest and I begin to cry. I kiss my hubby as I hold my sweet Kalyn. "Hello, sweet girl. We've been waiting for you."
Happy Birthday Kalyn.
