As I promised before, I said I would give the "details" of delivery. Maybe you might not be interested but I usually spend the few weeks following the birth of my babies thinking about what happened. It always seemed such a surreal event for me.
(Warning: this is long winded and may tell you more than you wanted to know.)First I have to say, I don't think I'll ever be inclined to share my due date again. For those of you who know me from Madison you already know I'm pretty evasive but after two boys that came early I was feeling slightly confident that I wouldn't have a "due date" issue. Well, Eliza decided to prove me wrong. In addition to that, I started having real contractions at about 36 weeks. Two nights of false labor - contractions that started to get closer together or increasing in intensity for hours and then they abruptly stopped. I didn't mind necessarily going over. What I
did mind was all the mind games. I told Clark I was in labor for 4 weeks. Plus, I'm sure all woman love when they pass their due date and people ask them why they are still pregnant.
I've told several people this already, but what I learned about Bartlesville, is that they are induce happy. Maybe not much different from the rest of the nation but moving from Madison, Wisconsin I never seemed to run into this issue. When I first met my doctor he suggested--even though he knew I was adamantly against induction--that I set up an induction date for after my due date "just in case". Apparently induction times get booked up around here weeks in advance. It didn't even phase me when the date got moved up because I very naively believed it wasn't necessary.
Fast-forward to Sunday, January 4th. I was now "overdue". (What a ridiculous concept!!) My mom had just come into town. I was uncomfortable, frustrated and I had a scheduled induction for the next day. I panicked. To complicate matters further, my doctor would be out of town the remaining of the week and I was terrified what any other doctor would do to me. (I'm sorry to say it, but sometimes I think they have some antiquated medical ideas around here.) And as I told my doctor during a phone call that evening, I was a desperate woman.
So off to an induction we go.
I'm still trying to figure out why it is beneficial to me to show up to the hospital at midnight to be induced. Apparently that's how they do it here. Is that how they do it other places? There isn't much to say about the first 7 hours at the hospital. The nurse was great. She answered my numerous questions. I got tortured on a 30 minute basis by a blood pressure pump. I was hooked up to an IV, a fetal monitor and also a contraction monitor. Going to the bathroom was a chore - even more so since they were pumping me full of fluids. Clark and I both attempted to get some sleep in the uncomfortable delivery room.
Around 7 AM is shift change. I should have clued in when I pushed my call button and it took the nurse 5 minutes to respond that I wasn't top on her priority list that day. I resorted to waking Clark after waiting 2 minutes to have him disconnect all my cords so I could use the bathroom. You can only make a pregnant woman wait so long! The nurse still hadn't appeared by the time I exited the restroom. I was back in bed and Clark had reconnected everything when she finally came in. I can't remember exactly what she said but something to the affect of "Oh, I just realized I had a patient." Remember, small hospital. To put things in perspective they delivered 2 babies that day. The other delivery was a scheduled c-section at 5:30 that morning. In other words, I was
the only woman in that hospital that day having a baby! Since she was now in our room, she decided it was time for her to spew all her expertise and let me know that she was in charge. I don't even remember her saying "hi" or even introducing herself. She just launched into delivering-a-baby-according-to-her. After about 5 minutes of her extensive detail on how to best get an epidural I finally interrupted her and explained that I hoped I could delivery naturally. It was like the room iced over. Okay, okay, I'm being dramatic but you could tell she wasn't happy about that. Things just kinda went down hill from there.
I truthfully wonder if she was playing a pretty involved game of Solitaire that day. She was pleasant enough when she did come into the room but sometimes it was the little things that showed she really preferred if I was incapacitated in bed. For instance, we had the lights on in the room. I was actively trying to work through my contractions and I was up and about. Clark at one point was trying to read a book to me to distract me. Every time after she visited our room she would exit and shut off the lights. There was only one section of the room that would stay light (over by Clark's area). She did this repeatedly. It didn't matter where we were in the room or what we were doing. Hmmm, was someone use to her pregnant woman asleep in the bed during labor?
I relate this because I find it amusing and I'm really not trying to be mean. I'm just trying to tell it like it was. I never encountered a nurse like this. Maybe we were just spoiled in Madison. Around 8AM my doctor showed up to check my progress and broke my water. Not to be graphic but I have heard women describe their water breaking feeling like they have wet their pants. And that it just keeps going. Like you are wetting your pants all day. Well, when I'm trying to stand and move around during contractions I really don't want to feel fluid trickling down my leg. The nurse's first solution was for me to hold a large paper pad about 3 x 3 between my legs. That was interesting. Finally after several times of questioning her if there was something else I could do she exasperatedly mentioned she could get some underwear and pads for me.
She was pretty unrelenting in her rules also. In asking her if I could labor in the shower she said I could but only for 15 minutes and then I would have to get out to put all the monitors back on and be monitored for 5-10 minutes. That seemed frustrating and futile to me. The hospital also had strict rules about liquids. Meaning, no drinking anything. I could have ice chips if it was really, really necessary. They wanted to avoid the potential of me throwing up. Well, I've learned from experience (3rd baby!) it doesn't matter what I do or don't have in my system, it's still coming up.
The incident that topped everything: Again, I was out of bed (apparently a mortal sin) working through contractions. The nurse came hurriedly in and started chewing me out about how the fetal monitor had shifted and she couldn't track the baby's heartbeat. She was highly agitated about this. She was extremely concerned that if she couldn't track the baby's heartbeat that the baby would stop breathing. She then threw out this zinger as she was severely chastening me: "You want your child to go to kindergarten with all the other normal children don't you?"
Clark was my witness to this. She truly said that!! I was trying to calmly explain that I wanted a healthy baby and that I was trying to do my best to deliver her here. We eventually worked out how to better track the baby - although she threatend me with a monitor on Eliza's head which I was not happy about. No more cords!! I still can't figure out why she was unwilling to unhook everything for a time, let me do my thing, and then monitor me periodically. I hissed to Clark after she left, "I labored at home with Russell for a long time with no fetal monitor and he turned out perfectly fine."
I probably can't properly explain what an impossible situation it was. I was already frustrated that I was at the hospital and not in my own environment. To add to that, I had a nurse who was less than helpful. She was mentally and emotionally wearing down my determination to do it my own way. It all finally got the best of me. I could see the day stretching out eternally with no relief from the nurse or help with the contractions.
[I must point out here though - Clark is an
incredible support. He was helping in every possible way he could. Doing things for me that a nurse should have. And seeing things I'm sure he didn't really care to see. But he was there encouraging and helping and doing. I am incredibly appreciative of all that he did.]
Once again, I pushed the call button. And once again, there was a distinct change in the demeanor of our nurse as I informed her I wanted an epidural. It was like a creepy smile spread across her face.
There isn't much to say after that. I believe Eliza came within 3 hours of getting the epidural. When she came, she came quick. We were all shocked at the size of her. My doctor especially didn't know how I could have hide the fact that she was nine pounds. I was disappointed that I saw her for about 30 seconds before the nurse whisked her away to poke and prod and do whatever else. (Although, given this nurse I shouldn't have been surprised.) I loved my doctor for his positive encouragement. He kept telling me how well I did and later expressed what I good attitude I had despite the fact that almost everything I didn't want to happen - happened. But as I told him, what was really important was that I safely delivered a healthy baby.
On the epidural issue: I delivered Jaron with an epidural and Russell naturally. Both had their pros and cons. My recovery with Russell was incredibly easy. I felt great. On top of that, I liked the feel of being an active participant in bring a child into the world. It felt strange to be numb and on my back in a bed in and out of consciousness. I know lots of woman like it this way. There is nothing wrong with that. Call me crazy, the contractions are painful and difficult but it is just an incredible, empowering experience. I don't know how to explain it any other way.
Ten days later I still feel the affect of the epidural. I have lower back pain day and night. It probably doesn't help that I'm bending and lifting a lot more than I did 10 days ago. For that reason alone I don't think I would want to go the epidural route again. And I definitely don't want to induce! I'm grateful I had Eliza when I did, considering her size, but I'll always wonder when she would have come and I prefer being at home as long as possible.
Another thing that cracked me up. I had to sign a paper before discharge saying that I wouldn't operate a vehicle for 1 week. They were very concerned about my stomach muscles not being strong enough and giving out. Sorry to say, I was driving a car the next day. I'm sure I was a risk to all other drivers on the road.
I need to also mention that she is as easy-going as her brothers were as babies. People have told me that one girl equals having four boys. Obviously things will change as she gets older but I think that even at this young age you can get a decent feel for their temperament. She's already been flashing smiles at us.
I need to also mention that she is as easy-going as her brothers were as babies. People have told me that one girl equals having four boys. Obviously things will change as she gets older but I think that even at this young age you can get a decent feel for their temperament. She's already been flashing smiles at us.
