Birth Story Part II

My parents were the first to arrive at the hospital. To give The Man credit, he was the one who called my parents, then our doula and then ran all over the house to pack everything that I hadn't included in my bag- The Office DVDs, The IT Crowd DVDs, DVD player, pita chips and I don't know what else but enough to fill two backpacks in addition to the one that I pre-packed.

I was lying in bed in my own hospital suite (thank goodness for the small miracle that my Kaiser has single rooms) when my parents walked in. My mom said in a sympathetic voice, "Hiiii Baby ..." and I broke down crying. My poor dad didn't know what to do with himself as my mom came over, enveloped me in a hug and said, "I know, this isn't how you planned it to be, is it?" And I just cried. My dad patted my leg. I don't think I was crying because I was disappointed in how things were turning out. I was scared out of my mind. I thought I had a week! It was my first day of maternity leave, for crap's sake! I thought when it was my time to labor, I would be in the house or somewhere nearby when I would feel contractions. Instead, I was a measly one centimeter dilated and given less than 24 hours to go into active labor or they were going to do it for me. Damn.

Oh, the doctor who admitted me, Dr. Fogarty, had finally asked me if I had eaten. I guess I could have told a nurse or doctor earlier but I hadn’t. So I told him no and he promised he would get me a real meal (not some stupid popsicle, chicken broth or something else on the water diet.) While it wasn't delicious, I finally got to eat around 6:00pm. It was some sort of bland cafeteria-looking food so thank goodness The Man intended to bring me pita chips.

He arrived shortly after my parents armed with all the backpacks. I had gotten out all my tears with my mom so I wasn't a sobbing mess when he entered the room. He didn't know what to do after kissing me and giving me a hug so he unpacked the three bags. My doula arrived soon after. Small world, Patti actually knew Dr. Fogarty and he told her that because I had preeclampsia, they needed to be very careful with my labor and delivery. He wanted to monitor my blood pressure and make sure the baby was out in a reasonable amount of time.

Dr. Fogarty came into my room soon after my doula arrived to discuss his plan. He wanted start off trying to induce my labor by breaking my bag of waters first with the hope that it would start contractions. If that was not enough to get the labor started, he then wanted to start pitocin. He said I was already dilated to two centimeters at this point and my cervix was soft which was promising. I told him that I needed some time to talk to The Man and my doula.

After he left the room, I asked my doula, Patti, what she thought about everything he said. She told me that having preeclampsia was not something to really mess around with and the baby did need to be delivered sooner than later but there were some things we could do to help get it going naturally. She said that breaking the bag of waters was a less invasive way to start and then we could get up and walk around and so some acupressure work to help move things along. Guess there was no way around it. I was going to have the contraption that looked like an effin' crochet hook.

Dr. Fogarty came back and said he wanted the nurse to get an IV started before he broke my water. A few words about the IV. Mary, my nurse, came in about 7:30 p.m. to start the IV. I really liked Mary - she was pleasant and encouraged me to ask lots of questions, especially to the doctors. But she couldn't start an IV for the life of her. At least, on me. From the get go, the needle hurt like a mother effer. She said that this was normal (it’s not) and that if I iced it, it would get better. Like hell it did. But I'll get back to that.

Dr. Fogarty returned at 7:56 p.m. to break my water. From what I understand, you're not supposed to feel pain. I know I was freaked out because, well, the apparatus really does look like a super long crochet hook. Imagine that going up your hooha. And I remember feeling pain. It certainly was incredibly uncomfortable. And afterwards, it was non-stop flowing warm fluid coming from me. That was a very weird sensation because it seriously was non-stop. It flowed for a while and then subsided. But I would shift in bed and would feel a lot more warm fluid come out. I coughed, more warm fluid. Heaven help me whenever I needed to get up and use the bathroom. I thought I was going to make a mess through the humongous pads they gave me. And they actually had me wearing TWO at a time. (Now that I think about, why didn't they just give me an adult diaper?) And every time I got up, I hated looking at the pad on the bed. It was always filled w/ clear fluid and blood. I know I shouldn't have been embarrassed but I was.

Back to the IV. It still hurt like a bitch. I thought that this was normal because I'm a weenie. But Patti said, no, you shouldn't be feeling it. She encouraged me to tell Nurse Mary so I did. After going through three ice packs, I finally requested for it to be moved due to the pain. It was about 8:10 p.m by this time. My doula gave me a foot massage and worked on some acupressure points that were supposed to help with going into active labor while we waited for the other nurse to come in to change the IV. It was a nice distraction. The Man asked me if I wanted to watch episodes of The Office and I definitely wanted as many distractions as possible so I said yes. Patti didn't tell me then but she told me later that she noticed on the monitor that I was having contractions, but they were very mild because I didn't really feel them.

At 9:05 p.m., a new doctor named Dr. Stephens introduced herself and let me know she would be taking over for Dr. Fogarty. She then explained that she wanted to start pitocin if my contractions didn’t get into a regular pattern within 2 hours of having her water broken. This meant she would actually want to start pitocin in just an hour, at 10:00pm, because my water was broken around 8:00pm.

From the books and the classes my husband and I took, I feel like we were taught to fear pitocin. Because once the pitocin came, stronger-than-ever-contractions would come and then I would need an epidural which through out any chance of laboring naturally. Now, let me be clear. I was indifferent to the epidural. I planned on trying to labor without it but if I needed it, I would take it. The pitocin, however, sounded like hell and why would I want to put myself through that?

So I asked Dr. Stephens if we could delay the pitocin and be given the opportunity to walk around the halls to help get things moving more naturally. In my doula's words, "Dr. Stephens seemed a little irritated at this." But she begrudgingly agreed to wait and see what would happen in the next few hours with my contractions. After the doctor left, I was a little ticked off by her attitude. Well, as ticked off as one can be while incredibly uncomfortable and leaking uncontrollably. Maybe the better term would be "turned off." In those classes we took, we were taught to ask questions and feel entitled to get answers. Heck, EMPOWERED because it's my body, after all.

Then I thought back to my birth plan and I could have sworn I requested a midwife over a doctor. I asked Patti if she could go into the hallway and flag down Nurse Mary. I felt comfortable enough with the nurse (because she had encouraged me to talk to the doctor and ask why whenever I felt it was necessary) to let her know I wasn't feeling this doctor. My doula stepped out into the hall and asked if Mary was available to answer some questions and to find out about getting the IV changed because nobody had come in yet to do it.

What was odd was that another nurse named Maria came into the room instead and said she could answer the questions I had for Mary. Well, I didn't know this Maria chick from a bucket of water and she was kind of pushy. Great. I asked if Mary was available and Maria said she could answer any questions I had. So in the nicest way possible, because I didn't want to be on the Dr. Stephens' bad side if I was stuck with her, I told Maria I would prefer a midwife. Maria asked if I had any medical complications with my pregnancy (um, couldn't she have read my chart?) When I told her I was just diagnosed with preeclampsia. Maria said that was considered a medical complication so I would have to be cared for by an OB. Damn.

I said OK because what else could I say but then asked again about getting my IV replaced. It was still really hurting. Maria said she would do it, but I told her Mary had asked someone else to do it. Maria seemed to insist she would take care of moving the IV and went to get everything she needed. When she came back she turned all the lights up and removed the first IV. What do you know, Maria was unable to get a second IV started and created a pretty big bruise on my right wrist where the first IV was because of the pressure created. I looked like I was a victim of domestic abuse. No ... seriously, the bruise was huge and spread up my arm from my wrist. I felt like telling her she should have practiced on an orange, not me, if she wanted to learn now to do IVs.

Finally, at 9:35 p.m. Maria said she could not get a new IV started and asked if I wanted and anesthesiologist to come in and start one for me. WTF do you think? Especially when my mom said that anesthesiologists were pros at putting in needles, it was just that IVs are kind of beneath them. So this guy named Mike came in about 10 p.m. and was a breath of fresh air. He joked around and was really easy to talk to. He also told me about the epidural and that he would be on tonight to give her one if I wanted. And let me just add that the IV Mike put in was painless. I did not feel a thing. Bless that guy's heart. And curses to Maria. (I liked Mary and while her IV made me incredibly uncomfortable, I wish her no ill will because she apologized over and over about it.)

At 10:20 p.m. Dr. Stephens came back into the room and said she wanted to start pitocin. Still terrified, I asked for some time to walk around because I had been stuck in bed this whole time while waiting for someone to come in and change my IV. Dr. Stephens said she would give me one hour to walk and see if the contractions would increase because she had to go into the OR for another C-section. So The Man, the doula and I were off to walk the halls while my mom hung back in my suite. You may be wondering what happened to my dad. I was only allowed to have three guests so he was in the waiting room. During that time, he also went out and brought my husband some food from a fast food restaurant. So The Man left us briefly to join my dad in the waiting room to eat.

By this time, I was walking pretty slow. The contractions weren't terribly strong but they slowed me down. So did my leaking and the two huge pads I had to wear. We walked several laps throughout the quiet halls of Labor & Delivery and Postpartum. The Man caught up to us after about three laps. My dad decided to go home and my mom decided to stay the night since she was allowed to stay in my room. The Man joined our little walkabout just as my contractions got a little stronger. But I was still really early in my labor. My doula was pooped from working all day and, knowing I still had a ways to go, asked if she could go to a nearby friend’s house to sleep for a little bit. We were to call her as soon as things progressed. She left at about 11 p.m.

Dr. Stephens returned soon after Patti left and I agreed to start the pitocin. Holy Mary, Mother of Pearl ... my contractions got a lot stronger. My mom hugged me or held my hand through the tough ones, especially when I started to cry. The Man felt bad for me and tried to comfort me too. At about 2:40am, I was in a lot of pain by then and told the hubby it was time for our doula to come back.

Patti arrived back at the hospital at 3:00 a.m. and I was sitting on the bed working through a contraction. When the contraction finished, Dr. Stephens checked my cervix and I was dilated to three centimeters. Only THREE EFFIN' CENTIMETERS. My mind was at the point of "bring me the GD epidural." My husband was surprised by this because he thought I was handling the contractions pretty well. To hell with handling, I thought. I wanted the epidural. I was tired and 12 hours had gone by since my supposed routine doctor's appointment. I wanted the bloody epidural.

By 3:30 a.m. the anesthesiologist came in. I was only allowed one guest while he administered the epidural. My mom and doula left and waited in the waiting room until everything was finished. It was a different anesthesiologist but he seemed competent. It was a weird procedure because I had to position myself just right for him to weave it into my back. I'm sure there's a better, clinical term for it but that's what it felt like, he was weaving a needle in and out of my spine. They had numbed the area so it didn’t hurt too much. The liquid felt cool but I was relieved that I wouldn't be feeling much pain for much longer.

My mom and doula were brought back to the room at 4:00 a.m. and, by this time, I was shivering and my legs were tingling. I guess these are normal side effects. The nurse kept having me switch sides for the next 20 minutes or so to make sure the epidural had a nice even effect. And the epidural started to kick in around 5:00 a.m. Hallelujah. I was pretty exhausted by this time and the epidural alleviated the pain. So much so that I was able to take a small nap.

At 6:00 a.m., Dr. Stephens wanted to put in an internal monitor for the contractions and a scalp monitor for the baby. The baby’s heart rate had not been as reactive as the doctor would have liked which is why she suggested these procedures. I was so tired that I took it hard that she was concerned about the baby's heart rate and stick even more contraptions inside of me. I cried a little after the monitors were put in. The doctor checked my cervix again and I had progressed to five centimeters and a -2 station. Not bad, I thought.

But at 6:48 a.m., Dr. Stephens came back in and said she was not really happy with the way the baby’s heart rate was staying flat and she suggested the baby be delivered by cesarean section. Son of a bitch. The very thing we didn’t want. I asked for a few minutes so I could talk to The Man. I was scared but had a feeling that everything that had gone on (and wrong) in the past few hours was leading up to this inevitable conclusion. And if this was the only way to make sure the baby was safe, I just had to suck it up and do it. I gave Dr. Stephens the go ahead and was prepped for surgery ...