Labor & Delivery

On Sunday, January 20th I started to have contractions around midnight. At first I thought nothing of them because they were not that strong. I started to notice they were on the hour every hour and growing more intense and lasting for about 30- 45 seconds.

By 8am the contractions had increased to every half hour and still lasted for 30- 45 seconds. I quickly called my mom, who was visiting that day, and told her what was going on. She said she would pack more clothes just in case today was the day.

I called my doctor just to let him know what was going on since it was a Sunday only to find out my biggest fear. My doctor was not on call that weekend and instead I was put in the care of his associate, a cold-hearted, dry-humored, Italian man with no sense of what a woman was going through (especially a first time mother). I called Brandt hysterically crying that the doctor basically made me feel like an idiot and told me not to call back unless I was having contractions 5 minutes apart for more than an hour lasting at least 60 seconds.  I then had hope that if this was the "real deal" maybe my doctor would be available tomorrow.

My mother arrived around 10:30am and we decided to go for a walk to kill some time. We walked for about an hour and by then the contractions were stong enough I could not talk through them. I knew then that this was time. No more Braxton Hicks. This was IT! I started getting anxious and we decided to go home so I could get some rest and have a late lunch.

We watched the Flyers game and I attempted to sleep but the contractions were keeping me up. By now it was about 4pm and I was still about 30 minutes apart and they were lasting between 45- 60 seconds. They were really starting to get INTENSE. To me they felt like the worst menstral cramp imaginable.

Finally, at 4:35pm I started having, what I thought was my worst one yet, so I got on the floor on all fours (a tip from my Aunt who has two kids) to relieve some pressure and as I put weight on my hands, my water broke. It felt like a hot water balloon popping. I yelled for my mom and she brought a towel so that I could run back to the shower. The warm water really felt good on my back.

I stood in the shower for about an hour and during that time my labor went from 0-60. My contractions were nearly on top of one another and they lasted only 30 seconds at best. I was confused at what to do so we called the meanie doctor and told him my water broke and where I was at with my contractions. He was not convinced I was close but told me if it would make me feel better to come to the hospital to get checked. We decided to hit the road.

My poor husband was in the grocery store check out when my mom called to tell him that my water broke. He frantically paid and drove home to pack his bag (which I told him to pack a month prior). While I was trying to get myself together to get out of the shower my Mom and Brandt loaded the car with all the bags and then helped me get dressed.

Something I never realized was that when your water breaks, you keep leaking fluid and everytime you have a contraction more comes out. Getting dressed was challenging to say the least between the constant contractions and all the fluid I was literally a MESS!

When we got into the car finally and the pain was at about a 9 at this point. Every bump would almost send me throught he roof and I found that the best way for me to deal with the pain at this point was to go completely rigid and "moan" at a very low pitched "awwww". It at least helped me to keep focused. My mom also would tell me to think about Bryn with her pig tails and cowboy boots on her first day of school. The visuals were REALLY helpful.....to a point.

The drive to the hospital took FOREVER!!! We got there and went to the wrong door and I about killed everyone in the car. I just wanted to get inside. By now my contractions were almost continuous and only got worse when I moved. I held my Mom's hand while Brandt parked the car and she later told me that I almost broke it.

We got up to the Maternity ward and checked in and signed paperwork (like I had epilepsy) and they got me into the room. It was 6:15pm now. I got into my gown and curled up on the bed on my side before they told me they had to get monitors on me, take my temperature, take my blood pressure, and then finally check me. I was not prepared for what they told me.

I was 7 cm. dialated and fully effaced! My first thought was "Holy crap! Can I still get an epidural". The poor nurse almost turned white and avoided answering my question.  She said "The anesthesiologist is ready but cannot give you one until we get the go-ahead from your doctor". "Where the hell is he?" was my reply. She said about 10 minutes away. I still thought I had time but the contractions were so bad now the only thing I could do was scream. I told myself I would not be one of those people but all that went out the window really fast. It was like I was possessed.

The room was filled with tons of people getting ready for our daughter's arrival. Someone came in to take blood and one of the nurses shooed him away and started bickering with another woman saying that they did not need to do that blood test because they already had my results. There was just mass chaos and I finally just yelled "What the hell is going on". How could they be so disorganized?  Don't they do this everyday?  Once again, I was not myself.

My doctor FINALLY shows up at around 7:15pm in jeans and cowboy boots. He puts on gloves to check me and I about fell off the table when he told me I was 9cm! 

He tells me that we can try an epidural but that it most likely will have little effect before I needed to start pushing.  I was game and they took my Mom and Brandt out of the room to do the procedure. People asked if it hurt but between the contractions and the pressure I really felt nothing.

Usually they administer an IV dose but because I was progressing so rapidly they only gave me a single shot.

At 7:30pm, about 10 minutes after the epidural I felt the incredible urge to push. My nurses told me to go ahead and coached me through.  The pushing itself did not hurt. My epidural had dulled the pain and I started to feel numbness in my legs, a normal occurance. Each contraction brought me closer and closer to meeting our little girl and that is what I focused on.

The last set of pushes were the worst. The epidural doesn't cover the birth.  At least mine did not. After the second to last push, my doctor told me to stop pushing but there were so many people in the room talking to me that I did not hear him. He was trying to give me an episiotomy because she was not going to fit. I pushed instead and ripped up and down. That feeling was indescribable and, I did not know this then, but my mom told me that I sat up and reached for the doctor and said "What the f*** are you doing", thinking that he had caused my intense pain. "You cannot touch me" he cried. He was holding Bryn in his hands.

Throughout the whole process I had my eyes closed to help me stay in my happier place. When I opened them for the first time my little girl was there. She cried on her own but I the doctor did not give her to me right away because her cord was very short (about half the length of a normal umbilical cord). He cut the cord and sent her to the warming table to get her APGAR score and make sure that she was healthy.  Other than swallowing a little amniotic fluid after she passed her meconium (first poop) she was perfect.

After she got checked over they brought her over to the bed so we could hold her for the first time. The feeling was indescribable. Brandt and I looked at eachother and cried because we could not believe that this beautiful little girl was all ours. :)