Contractions started at 0715 on Monday, 9.26.11. After 17 hours of unmedicated, trying to stick it out at home laborous contractions, I finally told E “Honey, it’s time”, although it went a little more like “get your shit, I’m in pain”. Poor boy only had 2 hours of sleep before I woke him up.
We got to the hospital at 1230 on 9.27.11 and we got to spend 7 hours in the triage area. For some reason, the midwife on call refused to check me. She did, however, offer me some Stadol for the contractions. Let me tell you, this stuff — it’s interesting. Trying to itch my nose, I smacked myself in the face quite a few times. That was the extent of her bedside manner.
Thankfully, once the shift changed, there was a host of new staff and they were fantastic. Around 0730, the midwife checked me and I was 2.5cm dilated so they said “mmkay, you can stay” and we got to walk to our room. We weren’t leaving without our baby girl!
Once we got to our room, I was lucky enough to get an epidural. That wasn’t in my original plan but after having contractions for 24 hours, I needed something. Problem is, they had trouble with it. They finally got it, or so they thought.
I labored through the day and around 2:30p, they broke my water. Let me tell you, there is nothing ok about having them break your water. Not because it’s gross but because it’s like you pee yourself and you can’t control it.
Labor continued and they told me I was 8cm and I was going to get pitocin to help me progress.
It was all downhill from there.
The pitocin and the epidural didn’t mix well and I couldn’t breathe. They turned back one of the two and I was ok so I slept for a bit. Until all of a sudden, I’m awoken by the nurse, telling me that I needed to roll over. Problem was, because I had the epidural (and whatever they did to it), I had zero control over my legs/lower half. It took 3 people to roll me over. Turns out, because of the mixture of the epidural and the pitocin, my heart rate plummeted and the baby’s stopped registering completely.
They turned down the epidural and I felt everything. I was so out of it though, I couldn’t communicate, other then to cry. They got everything under control and I slept some more.
Until it happened again.
This time, my brother-in-law had come to visit and he was put to work. They had him help roll me over (Sorry B-I-L, if you saw anything that will cause you to never make eye contact with me again). After they got my heart rate back up and the baby’s heart rate was back on the monitor, they said “time to push”.
Yea, that didn’t work.
After 3 hours of pushing on and off, I finally said “I’m done”. 24 hours+ without food (sorry but ice chips don’t do shit for hunger), and 39 hours in labor, I was calling it a day. The midwife on call wanted to argue but I ended up with a c-section. I started feeling ill and sure enough, I had a temperature of 100.4*.
I had a c-section but again, the meds didn’t work so I felt everything. After they got her out (unbeknowst to me because no one told me what was going on), I finally asked for something strong so they gave me something that knocked me out and by “knocked me out”, I mean, I don’t remember anything from 10p Tuesday night to 2:30am Wednesday morning.
It wasn’t until 3am that I was coherent enough to be told that our baby girl was in the NICU. With my fever, it turns out I had something called Chorioamnionitis. No one told me this until Wednesday afternoon. I was hooked up to IVs and after I finished the bag, they allowed me to go to the NICU to see my baby girl for the first time ever. E had already seen her and met her so he was getting the info on her.
Regardless of the shitty experience of labor and delivery, the unprofessionalism of the NICU staff upon initial interaction, and the arguing with the midwife and Attending OB surgeon, I finally got my baby.
|Proud Daddy, visiting his baby girl|
|Happy Mama, finally getting to hold Beanie|