I am always an impatient wreck at the end of my pregnancies. It was no different with my fourth, and in fact I was complaining constantly and
probably not the most fun person to be around at the end there. So when my due date finally arrived, I already felt like I was a MONTH+ overdue. Much to my disappointment, I didn't go into labor that Saturday May 24th. I had an appointment the Thursday before at which my dear OB told me all the signs were there that labor could start any minute! I was about 3cm dilated, which although this wasn't unusual for me, it always makes it hard because I'm living moment to moment thinking, is this it? How many contractions am I having? Should we go in yet...?
Tired of being pregnant!
I was asked to come in again on Monday, in case I didn't go into labor over the weekend. My OB was just on alert since this was my fourth baby, I was already 3-4cm dilated, and my last labor was only about 4 1/2 hours. On top of all of it, I test Group B positive, so I needed to have antibiotics in my system for 4 hours before delivering. Again, this all made my OB nervous to let me go too far past my due date. As I was driving home from that appointment on Monday, feeling disappointed and exasperated, I got a call from the office. She asked how I would feel about coming in on Wednesday for an induction of sorts. You know I said
YES! (I guess technically, on paper, it wasn't considered an induction since I was already 4cm dilated...? Like my body was already in early labor, they were just going to help it along further, as opposed to starting from zero.)
Wednesday morning we had Mike's mom come over to watch the kids and left pretty early. We got to the hospital just before 9. They wanted to start the antibiotics right away so that once they got the pitocin going I would be good to go in case labor went super fast. The first four hours were pretty uneventful. I was only having irregular contractions, much like the usual ones I'd been experiencing for many weeks already. We were just waiting for the iv to deliver the antibiotics. I was still trying to walk around and do certain "exercises" to get the baby to drop further down. When I went in on Monday he was still pretty "high", so I was all nervous that the day would go by and he wouldn't drop sufficiently and...(my mind was worrying like usual) I was trying to concentrate and put myself in the right state of mind for labor and delivery and for that moment I would first lay eyes on him....
(I had no idea...)
So at about 1pm the nurse started the pit. drip. It was put on the lowest possible amount. I sat back and waited for the contractions to pick up.
They didn't pick up for a looooong time. It was very weird for me, because I was just expecting it to go really fast from there. With all three of my other babies, I had been given just a tiny bit of pitocin and my body responded immediately. So much that they had always turned it off after only a little while. With this one though, my body wasn't quite ready to go for it, I guess.
I want to pause for a moment in the story to explain that looking back, I can sort of understand why my body was resisting labor. It was a pretty stressful pregnancy. I had a lot of fears and worries, I was suffering from frequent migraines (more than any other time in my life) and it just felt like I had a hard time relaxing the whole time! I went into labor with a fearful, tense attitude. It makes sense to me now that the whole experience wasn't as smooth as my other labors had been, and in the future I hope I find better coping skills for stress and worry, while I'm pregnant. I still have a lot to work on in terms of letting certain things go, and focusing in on the most important essentials while pregnant. I tend to still want to do it all, and am hard on myself when things aren't perfect.
(Not sure what I was thinking but this is size 3 months outfit! And it was the only one I brought to the hospital! Luckly, my mother in law saved the day and got some cute onsies that I was able to use on him :)
Back to the story: after the pitocin was started, the contractions were still very lame. I kept walking around with the drip in hand. We walked around the hospital halls and around the room. I continued to do stretches and exercises. I was checked here and there by my OB who would come see how I was doing, and I was progressing but very slowly. I think I was maybe at 5 cm at 5pm. I wasn't in a lot of pain at all, though some of the contractions were starting to get a little more intense.
Nothing really happened until later, I think about 7pm.
Finally the contractions picked up significantly enough to make me certain labor was going in the right direction. Of course I had my fears about waiting too long to ask for an epidural - but I didn't want to get one in case it stalled labor. But once my body was going for it, I knew it was time. I was in a lot of pain, though I don't remember how dilated I was yet. Probably at least a 7, though I don't remember because at this point I was starting to lose myself in the pain.
Each contraction hurt a lot, and they were coming pretty quickly. Maybe every 3-5 minutes at that point. I don't remember having such intense contractions with the other babies, but then again I never had as much pit as I did this time, so that was obviously it. I think it was at about 8pm when the anesthesiologist came in to administer the epidural. I was looking forward to the pain relief because I was really sweating it out at this point. I was dreading every contraction and feeling worried about the baby being in the right position (I'm not sure why I was so concerned about it, no one else in the room was mentioning it at all) I was also getting tired since I had been awake since 6 am with no real naps, just on high alert to meet my baby!
This is where things get interesting.
Back story again: I have had three wonderful, wonderful epidurals, my friends. I have had three wonderful, wonderful birthing experiences. I had ZERO regrets from birthing my other babies, so I had no reason to do anything differently. I was all for and happy to get that pain medication! Bring it on, I thought,
bring - it - on! But there was something else in store for me this time.....
The anesthesiologist came in and did her thing. Needle in back - woo hoo (no big deal since like I said, I'd been through it before) I laid back waiting for it to kick in so I could relax for once in 7+hours. But...for some reason....the relief never came! I knew after about 4 or 5 super painful contractions that something wasn't right. I knew what an epidural was supposed to feel like, but again, the relief never came. I told them. About 20 minutes later she tried again. I didn't realize it, but they actually have to take it out and try a totally different placement. Not fun, but ok. I was willing to be patient because I wasn't thinking I wanted to push him out without the medication. I wasn't prepared for that mentally. I didn't want to, and I was certainly not going to wing it! I kept reassuring myself that I could get through one more contraction because
soon I would be able to relax.
Soon I wouldn't feel myself being pushed to the limit.
I was in a lot of pain. I wish I had a better vocabulary to explain to you how uncomfortable I was at this point. Labor is obviously something that is indescribable to anyone who has never experienced it. Outwardly, I was sweating a lot and very shaky. Mike has never seen me look so distraught. I started to feel dizzy and they told me I needed to lay down. Apparently my blood pressure was dropping so they really needed me to lay down. Normally they do the epidural while you're sitting up, but I just couldn't sit up anymore. After the second placement was put in, I realized almost immediately that it wasn't going to work either. I just knew. But unfortunately, the anesthesiologist had to leave at this point! She said she'd be RIGHT BACK. But she wasn't. I'm not sure how long she was gone, but it felt like a long time. The nurse who was with me was AMAZING. I loved her. She had this beautiful red hair and was from the south so her accent was just the best thing ever. She was massaging my arms and helping talk me through the contractions. I know she helped a lot. She was also telling me that she had four kids, too - three boys and a little girl. She said she had all her births with an epidural and she felt so bad for me that things weren't working how I wanted them to. She was a great presence in that room for me, as was my OB who has great bedside manner and the whole time let me know that everything was going to be OK. My OB loves our family and she was so thrilled we were having another baby. She was always so sweet during my pregnancy, telling me she couldn't wait to meet my newest cutie.
But again, with the pain. My eyes were clenched shut the whole time. I think I closed my eyes at about 8:30pm and did not even open them until Emmett was born - over two hours later! It was just...well, horrible. I hate to say it, but it was. I have never taken a birthing class. I have never really had the desire to. I had no way of managing this pain other than my own instincts. I closed my eyes tight and tried to relax, but I was actually really distraught at this point so that was very, very difficult. I wanted it to be over.
Finally the lady came back and said she was going to try one more time. But as she was doing it this time, my blood pressure really dropped. I kept hearing her asking them to read her my numbers, probably every 90 seconds or so. She ended up having to stop, I guess, and the epidural never took. Again, it was awful. I was laying on my left side, facing Mike, with my eyes squeezed shut, just trying to get through each ridiculously awful contraction. I remember thinking that this was the worst thing ever and why would anyone want to do this?? I was crying a lot and really worried that I was going to have to keep doing this for hours more. Oh, and this is also the first time during birthing that I remember being angry at Mike! I HATE it when they make women in the movies shout at their husbands because I think it's awfully cruel and stupid (as in, how many women in real life actually blame their husbands?) But, I have to admit, I was angry at him that he would get to hold our sweet baby in a little while but he didn't have to go through all this pain like I was! How unfair! Just being honest here. I've never had those thoughts before.
Contributing to my terrible pain also was the fear that something was
bound to be wrong with my baby when he came out. I was obsessing over this for some reason! It was a very bad mental place to be in. While I had my fears with my other babies, I don't remember it being so intense and persistent. I kept imagining them whisking him away as soon as his cord was cut, to assess whatever was wrong and I wouldn't get to see him or nurse him. Again, not a great place to be mentally, right? I had a hard time praying, though I was making an effort. I think I just kept saying the Jesus prayer, with a few Hail Mary's. I also remember saying the St. Michael the archangel prayer.
All of a sudden, in the whir of tears and pain, I felt something change. I knew I was going to have to push him out without any help from the medicine, and I. was. terrified. But, I had no choice! As I was laying on my side, it was like he went from being in the upper left position in my belly, to slamming down into my pelvis and I felt lots of pressure on my right side. It was such a strange sensation and I will never forget it. It hurt but it felt good in a way because he took the pressure of parts of me that were really hurting at that point. It also gave me a little surge of adrenaline.
I shouted that I was ready to push and I think everyone in the room was relieved and excited. I know Mike hated to see me in so much pain and was ready for it to be over. I heard everyone get ready (yes, my eyes were still very much shut) and I remember taking a deep breath and pushing, pretty much against my will. I was SO not wanting to do this! I was not happy or excited, I was lost in the pain. Again, with my other pregnancies, at this point I was feeling quite ready to push. I cried at this exact point (right before pushing) with all the other babies - tears of joy and expectation. I loved that feeling of knowing I was about to meet my baby! But this time I had no time to think. I was lost, scared, and desperate for it to be over. I was freaking out. I didn't want to be pushing for hours and hours....
perfection
(him, not me :)
Fortunately, little Emmett was ready to go and it only took me two pushes to get him out! Thank God. The actual pushing wasn't as terrible as I imagined, but it definitely wasn't pleasant :) He was born at 9:54pm. When he was out, his cord was kind of short so she couldn't get him quite up to my chest. My eyes were still shut when she put him on my belly. Mike had to tell me, "Open your eyes and look at your baby!" I didn't want to. I was still scared; traumatized. When I did squint one eye open my first thought was that he looked very blue/purple. Since he was squeezed out so quickly, it's common for them to look like that, I guess, but it kind of startled me. I was just anxious for them to check him out and tell me he was Okay.
It wasn't until they brought him back over after a quick glance over, that I was finally ready to open my eyes and hold my new little guy. I was shaking uncontrollably and felt like I had just experienced a real trauma. I don't think I was smiling. I have to say that it took me a little while to even look into his little eyes. I was happy to nurse him right away and that helped a lot. Bonding took place as soon as he nursed, but comparing it with my other deliveries, it was much more difficult of a transition.
After I was able to eat and get situated a little more, was when I could finally breath deep and think about my baby. Emmett Justin Corrigan. E.J. 8lbs 8ounces. I loved his dark hair, his little delicate features that reminded me of newborn Josephine. I loved his sweet face and eyes that opened up right away. I loved seeing those cherished newborn mannerisms again. I was finally able to look at my husband holding his son and feel grateful and happy. I was finally able to relax at the fact that there was literally nothing wrong with this baby and that he was here. (And that there was no more pain) I did it!
sooooo tired!
sooooo happy :)
It was NOT a fun experience for me, but it was well worth it; my baby boy was WELL WORTH IT. Not that I want the next birth to go exactly that way, I would do it again in order to bring a new life into the world. Even if it was even
more painful that that was, it would be okay with me because: LIFE.
