Okay, here's the long version.I just hammered it all out while it was still fresh in my mind so don't expect a fabulous piece of literature. lol Possible TMI moments included...
Monday morning I went in for a non-stress test, amniotic fluid check and 41 week OB appointment. That all went fine - I got to see the bottom half of Bruce's face on the ultrasound when they were checking my fluid levels and got the first clue that maybe this kid was going to be bigger than I thought. lol At my OB appointment, nothing had changed: I was still 3 cm and 75% effaced. The nurse practitioner said they'd see me on Wednesday and I was inclined to agree. For the rest of the day I was just sort of generally uncomfortable and was having the same kind of irregular contractions I'd been having for the past 5 weeks, so I was getting good at ignoring it all.
Right around 9:30, my discomfort turned into something more sharp and noticeable, so I decided to pay closer attention and start timing things. My hunch was right on and the contractions went from 7 to 2 minutes apart within 30 minutes. I called the hospital. This was the part I was not looking forward to, because basically you have to convince them that yes, you really are in labor and yes, it's time to come in. And inevitably, they tell you to wait. The nurse I was talking to just rambled on about how I should wait so that when I did come in I wouldn't be sent home. I was pretty sure I wouldn't be. Even when I told her about my previous short labor, it was as if she didn't even hear me. I finally got off the phone and told Andy I didn't care what she said, we were going. He had been getting the kids' stuff together and then got them loaded in the van. So we left the house around 10:30 to take them to our friend Maria's house. By 11:00 pm we were headed to the hospital. The contractions were coming quite steadily at 2 to 3 minutes apart. Since this last month of being pregnant had been so different from my previous pregnancies, I really wasn't sure about how fast I might be dilating. Mainly I was thinking I just wanted to be at least 4 by the time we got there so that nurse wouldn't be able to say anything to me.
We got to the hospital right around 11:30. It seemed pretty dead in there, which was good. I made my way to the bathroom and had 3 or 4 contractions just trying to get that accomplished. After that I went into a triage room to have the baby and my contractions monitored for about 20 minutes, and then to be checked for dilation, effacement and baby's position. I had to lie still the whole time in a semi-reclined position, and let me say, that was HARD! At first Andy was telling me about how high the numbers were going on the contraction monitor, but that wasn't helping. lol I asked him if he could just tell me after they peaked so I would know when they were going back down. Towards the end of the monitoring, Andy also commented that he didn't think I was going to break my record since we were about 2 1/2 hours in already. In came a doctor and nurse (I guess). They both checked me. At first they said I was 6, but they quickly changed their minds and said I was 8. 8!!!! Take that, non-believing nurse! They quickly and rightfully said I needed to get back to a delivery room right away. So they left to give everyone a heads up after they took some medical history. Then in walked a med student who also checked me and took basically the same medical history. Sigh. Nice enough guy, though. Then I got sick - I was anticipating this and we had brought a little trash can (lined with an empty tissue box and plastic bag) so Andy was ready for that. At the same time, I was having a contraction (a transition contraction, mind you) and my water broke. Nice. He asked me if I felt like I had to push and I wasn't sure. Then yes, I started to feel like I needed to push and told him so. The other doctor and nurse came back in, the med student informed them that I wanted to push, and they got me out of there. The nurse joked that they didn't want me delivering in triage since that was a lot of paperwork. ha
While I was being wheeled to the delivery room, the urge to push was very quickly taking over. I started thinking of all the stories I've heard about women who were told to wait and just couldn't. I remembered I was supposed to pant to try and stave it off. So I started panting and wasn't sure how long I'd be able to keep it up. I'm normally calm and even-keeled, but I was starting to feel like that wasn't going to last much longer.
We get to the delivery room and people are sort of hustling. I got on the bed and said again that I needed to push. The doctor said I needed to wait so he could make sure I was dilated all the way. Oh come on! Laboring women don't say they need to push unless they NEED TO PUSH. So I'm still trying to be cooperative while he checks me and gives a quick cervical exam. There's a nurse trying to put in an IV and she fails miserably. Then they're trying to break the bed down and get the stirrups up, but they're just not going fast enough and quite honestly, I really started to feel like I had done everything I could. I started to feel like nobody cared at all that I had been putting off this INSANE urge to get this baby out for a while now and I just couldn't take it anymore. That's when I basically started screaming and crying (possibly even straight up wailing) that I had to push and couldn't wait. I turned into something else. I've never experienced that before. I'm pretty sure I don't want to again.
So I started to push. I'm practically flat on my back, my legs aren't really anywhere they should be. Everyone crowds around me (everyone = two doctors, two nurses and the med student; and of course Andy) once they realized I was going. I assumed they would grab my legs to help me but they told me to do it! I'm still in crazy lady mode and screaming/crying/wailing and I really had a hard time doing that. Then I could feel the head come out. That was definitely a good feeling and I thought that one or two more easy pushes and he would be all the way out. But no. Everyone was still yelling directions at me and probably 4 or 5 more pushes and then he was out. I know that doesn't sound like a big difference, but it kind of felt like it. It's one of those moments that feels like it's taking forever and also going really fast at the same time. Anyway, he was finally out and sane Emily returned, although I did cry a bit. It was such a huge relief to have that be done.
I caught a glimpse of Bruce - and he certainly looked bigger than 7 1/2 pounds. He was whisked away to get cleaned up and I didn't even care at the moment that they hadn't shown him to me. I really just wanted to be left alone.
No such luck. Next it was time to deliver the placenta (by the med student). That didn't take too terribly long and after pushing out a baby, it's not really too uncomfortable. Then uterine "massage", which sucks. The doctor pushes really hard on your abdomen to push blood out and to start the process of shrinking the uterus back to normal. This is quite uncomfortable and always lasts longer than you think it will. Somewhere in here they announced Bruce's weight and length - Andy and I both were pretty shocked. Then everyone started saying I would have quite a story to tell - fast labor, fast delivery, big baby... After that, the med student got the honor of stitching me up. Sigh... You know what that means. It took FOREVER. And I'm starting to get antsy. I really wanted to be left alone, you know? I wanted to really be done.
But in the middle of getting stitched up, I had another little gush of blood, so the OB took a closer look and thought there was a piece of the amniotic sac still inside. So he tried to get it. And kept trying. And kept trying. So he's pressing on my abdomen and has his hand shoved up my uterus, over and over again. He decides after a while his hands are too big and they find a female doctor to come in and help. Sigh... So she comes in and can't get it either. I'm really starting to get upset again because it hurts and it's not stopping! Everyone keeps apologizing and I'm squeezing the hell out of Andy's hand. They gave me some pills to try and take the edge off, but I don't know that they really did much. So they finally get some tools out to get a better look and they conclude that it wasn't the sac, but rather just my cervix. At this point I'm just so relieved that they've stopped messing with me I don't care that I had to go through all that for nothing.
I finally get to rest! And see the baby! The poor thing is all bruised and purple on his face from being squeezed out so fast, but overall, I think he's still pretty cute. :) Andy and I are both amazed at his size and the amount of hair - he has more than Dominic did! The nurse asks me if I want to try nursing, so we give a go and he's a total natural! He nursed for 40 minutes! Finally around 4am I get taken to my postpartum room for the rest of my hospital stay, which was brief but hectic. It seemed there was an endless parade of people in and out of there the whole time - nurses, doctors, pediatricians, various assistants, medics who took my vitals, people bringing the food, a chaplain, the birth certificate lady, the circumcision people, the hospital picture people... We were discharged 36 hours after Bruce was born and I am so glad to be home!!
I hope this doesn't all sound too negative - I wouldn't say that I had a bad experience, although there were definitely negative parts! It was certainly another amazing learning experience. I've always thought a quick, drug-free labor would be the best kind. And I still think that, but not in a hospital setting. If you don't fit their standard laboring woman profile, you're kind of out of luck. But of course I'm mainly thrilled that our new baby is here! And when it comes down to it, the fact that he's here and healthy is really all that matters, so I'm over the moon. :)
I'll post pictures soon...
