Stories of life in the suburbs with Husband and our daughter Squishy and son Button!

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Family of Four


Previously on Expert Mommy... (Read this first!)

There would be no time for drugs. The fetenyl was sitting on the counter across the room. I could see it. But I couldn't have it. All around me there was a mad scramble happening. The combination of laying on that bed, being told that I was in transition, and that I would be doing it on my own made me lose control.

Let me tell you something: Everything I learned when I was preparing for a natural labor and delivery was about control. Owning your body, listening to your body, shutting out as much of the world as I could. I didn't know what techniques would work for me so I learned them all. I trusted Husband to protect me so I didn't have to defend myself. All of me was focused and in control of my situation. My preparation had prepared me for this. But I was distracted for a minute and it all vanished.

I lost control. It all came flooding back in and I was in intense pain. Before, like, 15 minutes before, nothing was different except I was in control. When I lost focus, the pain took over. I was losing. That's why this next part is so amazing and important to this story. My nurse who hadn't left my side since the bathtub grabbed my hand in both of hers and breathed “He-He-He-Whoo”. We locked eyes and breathed together. The world melted away and I got focus right away. I was in control again. The pain stopped.

I turned to face Husband who took up the rythym of “He-He-He-Whoo”. My mom came in at that point, someone had paged her. She was at my left shoulder and I was staring into my husband’s eyes. I was falling asleep. I was in a trance of breathing. I knew nothing else. Midwife cleared my cervix that was really just a lip and whispered (it seemed) that I was going to let baby come down on his own and when I couldn't not push anymore we would push.

“He-He-He Whoo…I need to push…” I whispered
"Let that baby come down..." Midwife whispered back

Then, all of a sudden, it was time. Pressure, heat, sharp. My body snapped into work mode and I pushed hard. Midwife said “This is a big baby.” Not quite the thing you want to hear when you’re pushing said baby out of your snatch, I thought. I pushed for 11 minutes that seemed like 2 minutes. He pooped all over everyone then put right on my chest at 5:54PM. All I could say was "Mom, I did it!" My mom and I were both crying.

We did delayed cord clamping. After only 5 minutes, it had stopped pulsing so Husband did the honors. Midwife gave me three little stitches. My nurse told husband that the kitchen closed at 6:30 so he should order me some food. She had great priorities. A hot meal is just what I needed.

Midwife and my mom knew that I was scared to have the baby taken away like Squishy had been, and they jumped to my defense when the nurse who came in to measure Button was getting pushy. I was still holding him and he was already nursing like a champ. My meal came and I had baked salmon and broccoli and a roll fed to me since I needed both my hands for Button. My nurse drew a bath and asked if I wanted to soak with him.

He was measured on our way to the bathtub. A brick of a baby. Tipping the scales at 9 pounds 5 ounces and 23 inches long. Husband and I went through our list of names and decided. My labor was less than 5 hours long.

I wouldn't change one minute of the day. Button and I were discharged 24 hours later. To my son:  may I be worthy of you.

Monday, September 10, 2012

The Hardest Button to Button


I was ready for labor. My uterus was not. I was to the point that I was throwing out my natural birth plan and willing to take anything that would get Button out as fast as possible. I was at 5cm/50% effaced/-1 station for two weeks without contractions. I was miserable, but what really got to me was that I couldn't take care of Squishy. She’s 21 months and very active and I couldn't do anything. I was ready to be done.

My mom was the labor charge nurse on Father's Day, and she called me that morning and said that my favorite midwife was working a 24 hour shift and that it was slow. Midwife had told me a few weeks ago that if I was walking around at 5cm, she would admit me and break my water to get things going. This is exactly what I wanted at this point. I called Midwife and after a few minutes of negotiating how long she would give me to get contractions going (we decided 12 hours) Husband and I packed up for the hospital, ate a good breakfast, and his parents came over to watch Squishy. It was baby time! 

It was strange to be going to the hospital to get induced. I had spent the last 12 weeks of my pregnancy training for a natural labor. I had made my nurses treats three times expecting to have had Button as each week passed. In fact, one of those weeks the midwife I saw said I would have him within the next two days. Never promise an almost overdue pregnant woman a baby if you can't deliver. Haha, get it? Deliver. 

We arrived, parked, and nonchalantly waddled to triage. Hanging out in triage, never thought I'd be doing that. Sipping coffee and snaking on the nurse treat I brought. It was slow enough that my mom stopped by and said that one of her best friends, B, would be my nurse at least until 8PM. I had met her several times and she’s really great. Midwife came in and said she would admit me and break my water. We were officially staying. 

We got the best room in the ward. Huge with plenty of room for activities. Midwife broke my water and started the clock. I had 12 hours to get labor going in earnest or pitocin (my nemesis at this point) would be administered. I was cleared for "maternal activity" which is exactly as boring as it sounds. As long as Button's heart rate looked good I was free to waddle around the ward. Out of every 60 minutes, 15 were to be spent lying on a bed. I could work with that. Lucky for me, contractions started right away! 

I didn't want to time contractions at all, thinking I would become obsessed with them. I was having contractions and that was that. We did two walking/monitoring sessions before I decided my PJs were too hot and wanted to be naked for a while, and the pain was picking up. We were in the room for monitoring and lying on that damn bed was horrible. I needed to move my hips. I was being very vocal with low moaning, staring out the window and wiggling my toes and fingers to try to keep my arms and legs loose. Husband kept me moving as much as he could. B, my nurse, filled up the tub and put a lavender patch on my chest.

I was in the tub for about 30 minutes on hands and knees rocking back and forth listening to some music. It was pretty painful, and I was feeling lots of pressure like I had a really powerful fart about to break loose. Husband sat next to the tub pouring cups of water on my back. I kept up with the low moaning and adding in “I need to poooooooop.” at the end of each wave of pain.

I knew I had about 7 hours of labor left and it was only going to get worse. It was already really bad and had only been 4 hours or so. I knew I couldn’t do this for another 7 hours, I told Husband wanted something for the pain. Not an epidural, but a shot of fentanyl. I said “I can do it with the fentanyl. Just something to take the edge off.” Husband told B, and she said that I would have to get out of the tub, dry off, and get checked by Midwife before getting an IV. It was going to take some time but she would order the drugs and page Midwife to my room. I got up and out of the tub and she wrapped me up in two warm sheets which felt amazing. I wasn’t getting a break in between waves of pain and pressure. It took about 20 minutes to get from the bathroom to the bed. I put my arms around my husband’s neck and rocked. I moaned “Button” focusing on the fact that my son was also doing a lot of hard work right now too. Standing felt better than hands and knees. B offered to hard line the fentanyl (no IV required) after Midwife checked me. She was still on her way.

Midwife came in and was very shocked to see such a fast change in my demeanor. I was naked, half wet, rocking on Husband and moaning when an hour and a half previous we had been chatting in the hall. I got in the bed and lost focus. Being in the bed was awful. I was starting to yell instead of breathe. I shouted for an epidural just as Midwife checked me. Then shit hit the fan.

Midwife: “Yeah, she’s 9cm and +2. This baby is coming now.”

Stay tuned for Part 2!