Birth Story, Part I: Labor & Popsicles

Alright…so I’m finally getting around to typing out our sweet baby’s birth story.  I figured since now she’s a MONTH OLD (what?!), I should type out this story before I forget any of the graphic (shocking, I know) details.  This entry, though not terribly long, took me 5 typing sessions to complete.  Turns out having a newborn takes a lot of work and apparently she isn’t quite advanced enough yet to blog for me.  We’ll give her another couple of weeks.  Her chore list is piling up.  The lawn is going to mow itself, for goodness sake.

So my due date was September 26^th, and the plan was that if the baby wasn’t here by September 30^th, I would be induced.  In my mind, I never thought I’d have to be induced, so I agreed to being induced whole-heartedly.  As my due date came and went, the idea of being induced became a reality.  I was starting to regret my decision on being induced, but now looking back, I wouldn’t have changed my experience in anyway.  I think the reason I was anxious about being induced is because nobody imagines their birth experience that way.  I would imagine something more like waking Scott up gently in the middle of the night and saying, “Honey, I think my water broke. Get the hospital bag, get ready to drive-thru Taco Bell, and let’s do this.”  I have absolutely loved my experience with my doctor, and we trust her judgment whole-heartedly…and so we went with the induction.

It’s a very odd feeling going to bed one night knowing you’re going to wake up the next day and go have a baby.  Scott came home from work on Thursday night before our appointment and we decided we were going to do something fun for our last night as just the two of us.  In true Scott & Michelle fashion, we spent the night on the couch, eating pasta and watching Friends.  We went to bed at 8pm.  Aren’t we exciting?  As you know, I was really nervous about the whole not eating during labor thing.  I wasn’t going to be able to eat after midnight the night before my induction, so I planned accordingly.  Dinner was whole wheat pasta with chicken.  Around 10pm I had a bowl of oatmeal.

We got to the hospital at 6am on Friday morning.  Oh my goodness…we were SO nervous.  While I was getting into my hospital gown and waiting in the labor and delivery room with Scott, it felt like a dream.  Like…wait, so I’m sitting here comfortable and casual now, and sooner than I know it, I’m going to be in the worst pain of my life?  Awesome.

Throughout our time at the hospital, we had some wonderful nurses.  We really enjoyed them.  There was one, however, at the beginning of the experience that was saying things that didn’t quite jive with what our doctor had been saying all along.  I went into the induction 1cm dilated, 80% effaced.  My doctor said this was a good sign and that things would move quickly, or as quickly as they realistically could for a first pregnancy.  Our doctor wasn’t at the hospital at 6am though…so we had a nurse that was like, “Oh…you’re only 1cm.  This could take awhile.  You might not feel any contractions for many many hours. I doubt the doctor will break your water for awhile.”  Crap.  This conversation was at about 7am.  At this point, they had started my Pitocin and I was having some mild cramping.  At 8am, my doctor came in and pretty much said, “Let’s get this show on the road.”  She then stuck a crochet hook in my hoohadilly (aka vagina) and broke my water.  This was just the beginning of sitting in my own juices.

The first hour of labor felt like menstrual cramps.  I was doing ok…Scott and I watched Will and Grace, which distracted me for about half an hour.  At about 9am, the contractions were very uncomfortable already and by 10am, I was pretty much a mess, breathing in the weirdest and most uncontrollable way I could and pretty much crying during each contraction.  I told Scott I felt like I was wussing out possibly asking for an epidural so soon.  I’m not sure why I felt that way…who was I trying to impress?  When my nurse came in, I said, “I feel like I should be able to go longer without medication.”  She looked at me like I was a little crazy and said, “If you want medicine, just tell me and we’ll get it.”  DONE.  Epidural = BEST. THING. EVER.  I went into labor with the theory that I’ll wait and see how I feel and then decide if I want an epidural.  I would not change my labor experience in any way.  Thank you, Mr. Anesthesiologist.  At the point of my epidural, I was 3-4cm dilated.  It kicked in about 10:30 and shortly there after, I was enjoying a grape popsicle with the best labor coach ever – my husband. 

Boo-yah!

I spent the next 4 hours seeing some of my family that was waiting at the hospital, playing iPhone games with Scott, and dozing in and out of nap-land. 

Then came the pushing…

Stayed tuned for “Birth Story Part II: Blood and Mucous and Poop – oh my!”