Monday morning, Feb 25, I woke up at 3am to pee and as I got back into bed, I noticed a trickle down my leg. I thought maybe I hadn't wiped well or I was becoming inconstinent but when I sat back down on the toilet, there was definite leaking. I was leaking quite a bit of fluid and I was pretty sure it was my water breaking, though I'd read that water breaking only happens in about 10-15% of pregnancies (it's not always a big gush like in the movies; it can be a slow trickle). I called for Matt and actually caught some in a cup to be sure- it was cloudy white and didn't really smell like anything (I wanted to make sure it didn't smell funny or was green because that's a sign that the baby's poop has made it into the amniotic fluid and it's infected).
I also had read that once the water breaks, labor is supposed to start very soon and the doctors want baby delivered within like 24hrs so that bacteria doesn't get into the uterus. We called our OB's office and they asked us to go to the hospital. We took a little time to finish packing our hospital bag (most of it was packed, and of course we ended up forgetting some things anyhow) and I ate some yogurt for energy.
It was very surreal. I was prepared that he might come that early but I'd really thought I'd make it through that week. Plus I wasn't having any pain or contractions yet.
Luckily we'd run into our neighbor on the weekend and had asked him to feed the dogs when it was time.
 |
| Heading to hospital |
We were immediately admitted at 4am, though since I was leaking so much, they didn't check how dilated I was. One of the most annoying parts was that I had to wear a very thick pad most of the rest of the time because I was so drippy (I'm talking thick, adult diaper like). I hadn't had any contractions so we just had to wait around in our room. We both were really excited.
The main problem in the morning was that it took the nurses four tries to put in an IV. I wanted to shoot for a natural childbirth but I consented to them at least setting an IV since it's easier for them to put it in early than later when I'd be dehydrated and it'd be harder in the event I needed something. They had a few tries in my left arm, drew vitals but then also gave me something- I can't remember now what it was - but it started to swell in my arm (which then bruised) so then they tried a few places in my right arm and ended up placing the IV in my wrist, which was awful (but preferable to my hand because that really is sensitive and hurts me). The wrist IV became a real irritant later because I couldn't really put weight on my right arm without crunching this IV tube in my wrist. They also did a little ultrasound and thought maybe he was sunny side up (meaning he'd come out face up instead of face down). I tried to nap a little but felt really energetic, though I can't quite remember where the time went.
Because we came in so early, we went through several shifts of doctors and nurses, who kept coming in and out to introduce themselves. (And our OB was actually on call the next day so we met the OB, Dr. Clark, who would actually be there for our delivery, my first male doctor as an adult).
Matt was pretty excited that our room was 177 -- he was born in 1977. And this was Monday, February 25, 2013 -- and his lucky number (and high school basketball number) was 25.
 |
| Matt was pretty excited about the hospital food but I was immediately on a liquid only diet. |
The next few hours seemed to go pretty quickly. Sometimes I'd have to sit in the bed while they monitored Carsen's heart rate; luckily it was always strong. I had requested to have only necessary (not continual) fetal monitoring because I wanted to be able to move around. But as it turned out, I was pretty uncomfortable with the huge, wet pad between my legs and nothing really felt good but sitting. I tried a few different positions but it turned out I only really liked sitting in the rocking chair or sitting in the bed because I could brace myself during contractions, whereas things like squatting or hanging on the bed or hanging on Matt made me too tired. Sitting on the toilet felt good too but I tried to just pee and get up again. I really had no interest in walking around, though we tried a walk in the hall once, because once a contraction hit, I just wanted to sit down or lean over onto something like the handicap bars they have lining the walls (but that hurts because of my stupid IV in my wrist).The only thing that felt better was circling my hips while rocking in the rocking chair. It was painful but because it (somewhat slowly) progressed, it seems like I just gradually got used to the pain. That said, I did throw up four times over the hours; I felt so much better though after puking. I didn't want any painkillers and for most of the day, it felt very possible.
The strangest part was that I seemed to black out/fall asleep between contractions. We played Frank Sinatra on Pandora most of the day and that helped to rock to the music and use that timing. My mom came at some point, as did my dad; I have no idea what others were doing, except Matt who was always by my side and holding my hand.
The nurses came in and out, took blood pressure, monitored Carsen's heartbeat and sometimes monitored my contractions. By 1 or 2pm, I had progressed to 8cm. This surprised me a bit because I figured- hey that means I'm almost done; this is going very quickly considering...
I'd read that the next phase- transition from 8 to 10- is the most intense and can be the most painful. I figured I could make it another few hours. Painkillers did sound enticing at times but I figured I'd made it that far so far, and I didn't have too much longer. But it actually took quite a bit longer than the 1cm/hr. By around 4pm, I was only at 8.5-9cm.Time seemed to both pass quickly and slowly. By that time, I was mainly just sitting in the bed with the head raised so I could watch the clock. I remembered that at this phase, contractions should be 60-90 seconds long about every two minutes, the most intensely painful part being about 30 seconds before it tapered off. So I'd watch the clock, feeling when the contraction started then it'd build and I'd watch for 30 or 40 seconds to pass while counting my breaths -- 3-4 count inhale (I couldn't get more in) and 5 or so exhale. At one point, I asked Matt to help me count. It helped take my mind off the pain, and/or I could think okay, just breath for the next one minute and this one will be over, that's only six exhales of it being bad...
I'd also read that transition is generally 45-60 minutes...
So again, whenever they offered painkillers, I just kept thinking I've already put up with this much; it's got to be getting over soon. Surely I can hold out. I just don't want to give in now and feel like I didn't try to accomplish this without drugs, since that was my goal. Maybe it's silly but I'd just felt like I really wanted to experience this naturally, to see what I could do, to see what so many women have experienced... And Matt and our nurse Kasey were so supportive and she kept telling me that I really was almost there and she thought I could do it.
I did ask how late I could request something (which is pretty much until you're pushing, although I knew it takes time for the anesthesiologist to come to your room and it was a crazy, busy night I kept hearing, then it can take 20mins to take effect). Plus the thought of an epidural freaked me out (a shot into my spine, my legs being numbed.... no thanks, I thought) and sometimes with an epidural, you have to get a catheter. When I heard that, I was really opposed because during my car accident surgery, that was one of my least favorite parts; it sucked; I swore I'd do anything to avoid a catheter again.
And honestly, in the moment, even though during the peak of each contraction (which I claimed at the time was a 7-8 out of 10 on the pain scale), I thought- wow, I don't think I can actually handle this. I really don't think I can really get this baby out. I have no idea how much longer I can take this... - that contraction would taper off and I could breath again and sometimes I would smile at Matt and just feel so much love for him (and my parents) and feel like- wow, it's already been like 12 hours and I have no idea where the time went but I've made it here and it's not that much longer now. It's just the better part of pushing, which the doctor told me would feel much better than the transition. That is also what I'd read- pushing feels better. I 100% disagree.
One of the worst parts was that I wouldn't be coached to push until I was fully 10cm dilated. But every time the nurse checked me, I was JUST about 10cm but apparently there was still a little piece of cervix in the way. When I had contractions, she tried to help me by pushing the piece out of the way, and asked me to visualize it moving out of the way. Of course, I couldn't actually feel that so it was hard plus it was very painful. It actually really helped to have her fingers inside me; she'd push down on my perineum, which made it feel like I had to poop, and asked me to concentrate on pushing there.
My friend Nickol had said that childbirth felt more like pooping, so honestly I just thought about trying to take a big poop (which being that I just gotten constipated for the first time the whole pregnancy in the last week, was an appealing thought- and yes, I did poop multiple times during childbirth, and no, I didn't give a crap ;) ).
Then I was coached to wait until the most intense part of the contraction, when it had really built up, take a deep breath, hold it, and push with my contraction (like I was pushing out a big poop, that's what it feels like, but painful). And I was to push three times per contraction.
For me, pushing was the most painful part of labor. The first two pushes felt awful but the third push usually felt really good (like right before the poop falls out, as you can feel it moving down and making progress and feeling relief). But what I thought would only take maybe an hour... took over THREE HOURS.
At some point, everyone kept saying "we can see his head. He has so much hair!" as his head was trying to move under my pelvic bone.
But each of my two first pushes just got him to where he'd been the previous contraction; the third push was the one that would make progress, but as soon as I let up, he would slide back inside (which I couldn't really feel). So I was only making centimeters of progress each time.
It was so frustrating and, despite that I'd read that being on your back can make it slower, they had me low on my butt on the edge of the bed with my feet raised (which Matt and my mom and the nurse took turns holding sometimes when my feet weren't in stirrups or weren't on this bed bar they installed) and I had to "curl up around the baby" and hold my hamstrings, which the nurse said would help me push him under and up from my pelvic bone. So every time I pushed, I tried to think about his head moving under and up to the ceiling.
At one point, I asked for a mirror (which it took them forever to bring) because I wanted to see for myself what everyone was talking about. All I could see was a circle of hair about an inch or two in diameter. It made me feel discouraged instead of encouraged. And then they wanted me to watch while I pushed, which was impossible (I had to close my eyes and concentrate) so I think I yelled "no, I don't want to look anymore!" That was really my only mean point. That and I snapped at my mom to stop wiping my forehead with a cloth.
I was also given the advice to "get mad at that baby and get him out." Ummm... yeh... I am. More so, in my mind, I was pleading with him "Carsen, please help me get you out. Carsen, please move down. Please help me get you out."
Another frustrating part was that I knew
1- it was way too late for any kind of relief; I just had to get through it, and
2- the doctor would have to be in the room for the baby to be delivered (or I didn't know what they'd do... ask me to stop pushing?).
So the doctor would come into the room to check on me then leave. Each time he left, I knew that meant I wasn't that close. It made me feel so discouraged because I was working so hard and it hurt so much and I was getting so tired. Eventually it was even time for a shift change so we got a new nurse, who wasn't nearly as attentive as the last- she kept leaving me and going to the computer to type stuff, which also made me feel like well, it must not be about to happen on this push.
Eventually, I was so tired, and had sideaches, and could barely feel my contractions anymore so instead of pushing at the peak of the contraction (which I couldn't feel as strongly now), I just guessed when the peak was and would push mainly with mental determination. I was honestly starting to feel so desperate. I felt like screaming "someone just pull him out." or "I don't even care about having a c-section, I can't keep doing this." So when the doctor finally returned and told me (I don't think it was a question for my consent) that I'd been pushing for three hours and was not being productive so they were giving me pitocin (a drug to intensify contractions), I was more than happy to consent to that. I needed help. I was exhausted and seriously wondering if I could actually finish pushing him out.
One of the reasons I also hadn't wanted an epidural was because often, I'd read, they then have to give pitocin to help kick up the contractions, which makes them more intense and more painful. True, definitely more intense with pitocin, and everything then felt more painful. It took maybe 10-15 minutes or so to take effect but then I could feel my contractions again ramped up. Now, thankfully, the doctor stayed (I think).
I was still pushing and pushing to get his head past my pelvic bone. This was so painful... I can't even describe. Was the pain a 10 of 10? ... I don't know, probably not (hey, having a fractured arm moved around to be xrayed, that's a definite 10). But it was such a sharp pain, different than the pain I'd been in thus far.
At some point, I also screamed during most of the pushes. A very loud, primal scream (but Matt claims not to remember it). The doctor, while I appreciate that he was probably just trying to get me to use my energy to push, kept saying "stop screaming and push." Dammit guy, I AM pushing! Have you ever had a baby?!? I wanted to punch Dr. Clark. Stop screaming and push. WHAT THE F*** DO YOU THINK I'VE BEEN DOING FOR THREE HOURS?!
Honestly a few times I thought the pain might just nearly kill me. And I still couldn't image how I would fully get this baby out. It felt like my entire crotch was being torn open. I'm not exaggerating.
At some point (I'm actually not sure which order this went in now) the doctor told me that my bladder was really full (since I obviously hadn't peed in a long time) and he was putting in a catheter to relieve my bladder and make more space. Great, I thought, I have a catheter after all, but in combination with the rest of the pain I was in, it was just a quick cold prick. I didn't actually feel my bladder empty...
Either just before or after that, he also told me he was going to have to use the vacuum to help me get the head under the pelvic bone. So three times while I pushed, he suctioned Carsen's head to help get it moving, which to me, felt like more pressure and a pulling sensation in addition to my pushing that felt very intense and painful. But at that point, I was willing to consent to about anything that would help.
And each push I'd hear "go go go go go, PUSH!! You've really got to PUSH! He's coming. You've got to really PUSH though." Then I did overhear the doctor saying that he needed to make more room and was giving me an episiotomy (cutting the perineum). I wasn't actually consulted on this that I recall, but I was so desperate at that point, I really didn't care. So he numbed me and made the cut. Again, combined with the rest of the pain I was in, I wouldn't say I really felt any of that.
All of this part felt very frantic and a little scary to me.
Unbelievably long later (can't even believe I was lasting), I finally heard the doctor and Matt saying "there's his head, here's his head!! He's here! He's coming!!" That was a little motivating but the pain was so sharp and intense still, and I think I might've still be screaming. Good, I thought, now he'll just slide right out like I've seen in those birth videos.
Nope! Then the worst part of all, pushing out the shoulders. That was surely the worst part because I thought I was done but then I still had that... and let me tell ya, this kid has wide shoulders. I thought they might break me.
But then suddenly, he finally slide right out- it felt very hot and wet and slimy down there. And I was so relieved and in disbelief that it was over. Matt was saying something about him being here. But I could only think that I was just so glad it was over.
 |
| Carsen is in the world! |
 |
| Matt was so sweet and smiling |
Matt got to cut the cord. We were surprised by how clean he looked. They hadn't even bathed him (they didn't for many hours). Then the next part that I didn't expect was that instead of just pushing out the placenta, the doctor was pulling it out while the nurse basically pushed on my stomach so hard, it felt like she trying to give my CPR. That was really uncomfortable and I wasn't really prepared for what they were going to do. And the doctor stitched me up, which I somewhat felt.
I think the first thing I said to Carsen was something like "hi there! You're here. You're so beautiful." I remember thinking how cute he was but that his nose looked kinda smashed and he looked like he had no chin. He had such pretty brown hair and steel blue eyes, and long fingers. I expected and hoped for a feeling of deep, intense, happy in-love for him. Honestly really I was just so relieved and tired.
Surprisingly though, my pain level was very low. Even a few hours later, I said it was only at a 2 out of 10, though I did take Ibuprofin.
 |
| We went skin to skin |
 |
| first meal |
 |
| Ta da, world- I am here! |
According to my dad, Carsen was born just as the Celtics beat the Jazz in overtime. Matt was thrilled.
 |
| Eating Daddy's finger |
 |
| 8 lbs 8 oz, 21 inches at birth |
 |
| first bath |
We ended up having to spend two nights in the hospital because they like to keep newborns at least 24 hours and they wouldn't discharge us at night. We were more than ready to go home...
