Four months ago I gave birth to our little Dylan. It was not an easy birth and it wasn't quick. I was in labor for about 26 hours. At one point, my midwife mentioned a c-section. For an honest minute, I thought we might end up going that route, but in the end I delivered vaginally. For the most part, this is what I remember from those fateful two days. Sunday, December 11th at around 2PM, Edgar and I checked in to Labor and Delivery at the Irvine Kaiser Medical Center. I was getting contractions all night and they were very close together. I also felt like I had been leaking something, but my water had not broken yet. When we were being observed, the Dr. said I was about 3 cm dialated. Normally they'd send us home, but I was contracting regularly and when she checked my cervical fluid under the microscope she noticed a ferning pattern which was an indication of amniotic fluid. I was leaking from somewhere...we just had no idea where. And like that--they admitted us.
Shortly after that my contractions started to space out and the Dr. sent us to walk around the hospital grounds (in normal clothes) for about 2 hours. Edgar and I walked around. Looked at flowers and admired the sunset trying to prepare ourselves for the intense journey we were about to embark on. After wandering around the hospital we went back to Labor and Delivery and they gave us a room. The Dr. checked me and I was between 3-4 cm dialated. I was instructed to walk around the labor/postpartum ward with my husband in hopes that it would speed up the dilation process. I felt like we walked forever, but we probably only walked around for about an hour. The Dr. checked my progress again and said I was barely almost 4 cm dilated. I was so frustrated as it felt like my contractions were starting to taper off. Of course, then came the talk of pitocin and so I got to lay in bed, got my IV started and before I could say "what?" I was hooked up to the pitocin bag. Fun times. After the pitocin kicked in I was having contractions back to back and was in a lot of pain. I tolerated what I could for as long as I could. I don't remember exact times...all I remember is my midwife coming in and checking me hours later only to discover I was only 5 cm dialted. FML. Shortly after that, she broke my water.
I opted for Nubain (pain med) which was the worst decision I have made in my 29 years of life on this earth. It made me groggy...I was in and out of sleep...sometimes I felt my contractions and they were horrible and sometimes I couldn't feel them and then out of the blue the pain would return sharper than ever. It also affected Dylan a bit and made his heart rate drop. I was scared shitless and so was Edgar. He watched over me, hour after hour. Holding my hand. At one point, the poor guy was reminding me to breathe. Yes, I was THAT out of it. I think we were both extremely frightened that I wasn't doing well and neither was Dylan. Finally the Nubain began to wear off and the pain from my contractions almost felt like it had quadrupled in intensity. I was trying to practice my breathing techniques, but nothing was working to calm me. My midwife came in to check me again. To my utter dismay I had not dilated any further! I was still only 5 cm. I was surprised that after she told me this I didn't scream any obscenities. All I said was "oh fudge". For reals? Now I know I wasn't in my right mind, because had I been, I would have said, "Oh fuck me and fuck this." But I didn't. I just laid there, feeling stupid. All I could muster was an "Oh fudge". Wow.
A while later (which might have been the next day, I'm not even sure anymore), I felt the massive urge to pee and/or pass a bowel movement. Edgar helped me waddle to the bathroom in our room. I spent some time just sitting on the toilet with nothing happening, except pain. Oh how I remember the pain. I wailed, I tried not to, but couldn't hold it in. At that point my husband looked at me and said, "Brenda please get an epidural. Please." The look on his face said it all. I had been doing this for too long. At this point my mom was in the room and she was next to come in to the bathroom with me. She too begged me to get an epidural. After I got back to the bed my midwife came in and sat next to me. "You aren't progressing much" she said, "and I'm worried that if you continue going at this rate by the time the baby is ready to come you aren't going to be able to push because you are going to be too exhausted. Also, your baby's heart rate has slowed. If you don't progress and his heart rate gets any lower, we are looking at a c-section. I think we should do the epidural now". This was NOT my plan. But you know what? I WAS exhausted. All I could think was thank you body--you've failed me. Next thing I knew the anesthesiologist was in the room, walking me through what I needed to do so that he could administer the epidural. He was a very nice young man--that's all I remember. He said I was holding my posture perfect and that I was so still I had made his job super easy. Within minutes I was numb. Goodbye pain--goodbye feeling in my legs. I will admit, I felt immediate relief. So much so, that I was able to sleep. And with sleep came relaxation and further dilation. :) I don't know where the time went, or where the hours went. I remember coming in and out of sleep...we had put on "The Holiday" in the DVD player. I caught portions of it.
I remember the nurse continuously changing my position. Not only was Dylan's heart rate low, but he was not in the correct position to be delivered. He was in an Occiput or Cephalic Posterior position, where his face is up to my abdomen and not toward my back. Eventually, he moved into the proper position and his heart rate steadied. At around 4PM on Monday, December 12th my midwife announced that I was a whole 10cm dilated. I thought someone had told me I had won the lottery. I was so happy and so tired at the same time.
Okay, the time had come. I was ready to push. Seriously, I was READY. I could hear "Eye of The Tiger" playing in my head. The nurse had given me some oxygen and I was instructed what to do when she told me I was contracting. I was barely able to hold up my legs because the epidural left them feeling like the heaviest logs on the planet, but I did it. I pushed with all my might...pushed and pushed until my midwife told me to reach down and feel Dylan's head of hair coming out of my whoo ha. Whoopie! Two more super pushes and he'd be out. My midwife, awesome as she was, let me pull him out on one of the last pushes and bring him up to my chest. Most people cry. But I was so overwhelmed with emotion I just stared at him. I think I said something lame like, "Hey buddy!" Yikes. And just like that, I gave birth to my 8 lb 8 0z baby boy at 4:55 PM-- after just 45 minutes of super pushing. Holy Mother. What a labor.
He cried. Edgar cut his cord. Our pictures were taken. I held Dylan close to me, skin to skin and then he got a bath. He stayed with us the whole two days we were at the hospital.
I'm still in awe of the experience--the good, the bad, the painful. And everyday that he smiles at me or he cries his eyes out, I look at him and think "Wow, we made him!"
Happy 4 month Birthday baby Bubba! We love you so much!
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Posts Coming shortly... "Breastfeeding FAIL" & "Baby Blues" Stay Tuned.
What a beautiful story, my friend. He's adorable!
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