I don’t think I ever fully recorded Little A’s birth story, partially because of the murky, dark awfulness that enveloped me right after her birth. Breastfeeding nightmares, post-partum depression, colic/reflux. When I look back, I realize none of these things are so awful as a truly sick child, but at the time I felt I was swimming in a black sea, no life vest or raft and no hope of rescue. I think the depression was influenced by my birth experience, the punchline of which is that my little daughter quite literally ripped me a new one: a fourth-degree tear that meant it hurt to sit, walk, and move in any way for two months and also possible future incontinence issues for life. But whatever. The fact remains that I met the only essential goal I set, which was to avoid a c-section*, AND I met one of the most interesting, unique, radiant people I have ever known: my daughter. Overall it was a win, but the experience has haunted me since.
This time I wanted to avoid several things if possible: an induction, an episiotomy, an epidural (possibly), but mostly my goal was to just not have another fourth degree tear. So again I had one essential goal. And, this time I would take a c-section over a re-4th degree (though I decided I would try for a vaginal birth again). When my one OB that I am less fond of started sending me in for growth scans of the baby and saying ominous things about how we should be “getting that baby out soon,” I was a little worried. And I was pretty sure she was overreacting to the fact that LCD and I make small babies with big heads. I was also quite sure he was not coming before his due date naturally, so I hadn’t really finished preparing. I had planned to take Little A on a “tour de playgrounds” during my 40th week as a final farewell to being an only child.<--- This is the thing that gets me choked up, by the way. By far the hardest thing since the baby has been born is missing all the mommy-daughter time. So anyway . . .
Tuesday the 13th (38 weeks 6 days) we go to the hospital for yet another growth scan to rule out
IUGR. LCD was able to get off work to go with me and watch Little A. It shows the same thing as always: big head little body. But, the overall weight is over 6 pounds and he is so responsive and kicky I just wait for them to send me home. Next thing I know they are sending me in the other room for a non-stress test and mostly I’m thinking about how they are dragging it out and Little A is missing her nap again and is going to get increasingly cranky. Everyone keeps saying the baby is doing great and his heart rate is perfect and I keep waiting for the time to be up when suddenly there are two doctors there telling us that we should probably induce that night. Apparently he was great except for a few suspect decelerations and this is enough to change the recommendation from “go home” to “let’s induce now.” I felt a little bullied, but how was I going to say no when there was a chance that this really did mean baby boy was not doing so great in there anymore? To shorten this tale, they sent me up to L&D to be monitored and consult with my OB that was on call (the one I like!) and she decided not to go against what the others had said but she admitted that it was most likely nothing and she let me go home so I could at least pack and come back the next morning when she would be on call again (yay!). Intermittent crying and “I’m not ready” was sprinkled through all of this as I realized that “tour de playgrounds” was not to be.
On Wednesday the 14th we arrive at the hospital at 6:15 am. I was a blubbering mess on the way there, practically flooded the car with my emotions as I could not stop thinking about how Little A was going to wake up and I would not be there--for the first time in her life. After re-doing all the registration stuff and waiting while someone actually in labor got a room (I felt a little lame) we start getting settled in our large delivery room. I guess I am a little dehydrated thanks to four hours of monitoring the previous day because it is pretty difficult to find my veins and the nurses keep taking turns. It takes three of them. In the meantime I get really woozy and start seeing spots. So yes, I nearly pass out before anything even starts. Awesome.
After I turn over onto my side and drink some of that super sugar juice they have I am ready to go. They manage to find a vein in my wrist, load me up on antibiotics (b/c I am group b strep pos) and fluids, and finally get the pitocin started around 9:00 am. I decline an epidural. My research indicated (yeah I read a dozen or so articles on how not to have a repeat fourth degree tear) that there MAY be a link between epidurals and interventions and thus--tangentially--major tears. Though, to be fair, it's a couple steps removed so the link is not that strong. And I sort of I just want to know what pitocin contractions without an epidural feel like. At least for a while.
For the first hour or two I just chill watching Spanish language TV while LCD updates his email list. Contractions come and go but are weak. I also have to get up to use the bathroom a lot, which is quite a production with my IV and monitors. I have to send a notarized request to the administration of the hospital who then contacts the President of the United States to give the okay each time. Also my nurse seems annoyed at first. But, we warm up to each other.
Contractions are starting to get a wee bit more painful when my OB that I like comes in to chat about "getting the birthday party started" by breaking my water. The only problem with that is contractions are going to start sucking and I might want an epidural for them. Or I can just continue to do the twiddling thumbs thing for a while as the pitocin is slowly bumped up. The pain would be easier to manage that way, but it might be a while. I tell my OB that my hesitation on the epidural is that I wanted to minimize the long term damage as my primary goal, and not sacrifice that for temporary comfort. She tells me that she can do more to position and guide the baby and we can do some slower pushing during crowning WITH the epidural, but of course it's totally up to me.
I like that doctor. She has an "everything is gonna be totally fine" sort of attitude that puts you at ease. I have to admit that part of my motivation is boredom, or to be kinder to myself, I do not want to spend more time away from big sister than I need to. So I say fine. Let's break my water right now and start getting the epidural lined up. That way I can feel what pitocin + water broken contractions feel like for a little while and then get some relief.
So things get wet pretty quickly and I have LCD start up the music to help get me through the next hour or so until the anesthesiologist gets there. In a few minutes contractions are definitely getting painful. A 5 or so. Then another one that acts like it's going away then comes back as a 6. I'd say they get up to maybe a 7 on my pain scale and are every two minutes or so by the time the drugs arrive. I start squeezing LCD's hand commensurate with the pressure I feel from contractions. At one point, a dark Jeff Buckley song comes on and I tell LCD to skip it. So he goes to mess with his iPhone for a while and I have a contraction or two without him and they are much harder with no hand to squeeze. And I think that's when "First Day of My Life" comes on and I bawl through it. I feel like I needed that little wake up to get my mind in the game and realize this is all about our brand new little boy. Not any of my issues. And not even big sister. We are about to meet the newest member of our family and he is about to meet the world.
The epidural comes and it is magic. It works within five minutes. Last time it never "took" all the way and had to be increased a couple times to do anything, so I wasn't expecting much. This time I went from a 7 to a 0 pain-wise in minutes. I am now officially sold. I take a nap for a bit, then wake up to the OB back again, checking my dilation (6, I think, if you care) and noticing a couple baby heartbeat decels. She suggests something I had never heard of before where they actually pump some fluid back into the uterus to try and calm the baby's distress. Truth be told, it sounds kind of dumb to break my water and then say "oopsie--let's put it back," but seriously this OB's style is so chill it's like she's asking if I want a candy bar.
A Twix would be great, thanks. So I say, do it. Put the water hose thingy up my vagina and next to that baby's head. He will love it.
In 15-20 minutes, I am feeling a bit of pressure, like the epidural is starting to wear off. They ask if I wanted to increase the dose, but I decide to wait a few more contractions since the pressure is pretty low and this could mean we are almost done. Sure enough, I start to get that special time-to-visit-the-bathroom feeling. I tell my nurse and she checks my dilation and smiles and says she will go get my OB.
So that means I did good, right?I push and realize I'm not really afraid like last time. It's still hard but it changes everything to know that it's working. After only twenty or so minutes his little head is poking out a bit and my OB tells me I can reach down and touch it. I surprise myself by having the strength to reach down and feel the little ball of hair that is my babe's head and he instantly retreats like a turtle and everyone cracks up. We slow down the pushes while he comes out and suddenly there he is and they give him to me and I see him, shocked that it was about ten times easier than last time and I am not so worn out that I can't hold him. I can! And after they clean him I can even nurse right away and don't feel like death. Hallelujah for the second time around.
The final verdict is a healthy baby with no growth issues and a second degree tear. I'll take it.
*I know plenty of people that have had good experiences with c-sections and that it doesn’t tarnish anything about the experience, but I had a valid health-related reason for wanting to give birth vaginally.
