Hurry Up and Wait: A Birth Story

10:09:00 PM


On June 24th, 2015, I felt a little bit defeated but extremely excited: I was just hours away from being induced. Mitch had work until 3:00 pm, so I spent the entire day up to that point just pampering myself and hoping that it would make time go faster. This was a mistake, seeing as watching nail polish dry is about just as fun as poking yourself in the eye or staring directly into the sun. I was bored and anxious for 6:30 to roll around, when  I would finally be able to march into the hospital and get what I had been wanting for the past 4 weeks.

Waiting for an induction was less than stellar. There was mostly anxiety, boredom, and a few "Why ME?!?!?'s." My delivery up to this point did not go as planned. There was no hurried phone call to Mitch telling him my water had broken, no speed race to the hospital, dramatic entrance and all, and there wasn't even a hastily thrown together hospital bag. No, I had had 7 hours to meticulously pack and unpack that hospital bag until it was perfect. 

When I had pretty much driven myself insane waiting for each pampering to complete (15 minute face mask, etc.) and being unable to repack the hospital bag for the millionth time, I decided to try playing some good ol' video games. When that wasn't enough, I read a book. Almost an entire book. I was running out of options fast when Mitch called me and said that he had gotten off of work early but that he was going to work on our car until we had to leave.

Awesome.

So I did some more waiting until 5:00 rolled around and I couldn't take it any longer! I told Mitch that we would have to get something to eat beforehand or else they would starve me while I was in there. He obliged and I told him I wanted to go to Subway... the Subway that just so happened to be right across from the hospital. I'm pretty sure I scarfed down a foot long BLT in record time while we sat in the hospital parking garage.

Soon, but not quite soon enough, it was 6:30 and we were checking into the hospital! That floor was so quiet and it seemed as if I was the only person in the entire wing. There was such a relaxed and peaceful atmosphere that I seriously questioned if I was about to give birth or get a massage. The nurse that would be working with me overnight kept asking if I toured the hospital or took any classes; I hadn't done anything because of our move. She seemed a little disappointed but checked us into our room and got me started on one oral dose of medication right away. She also put my IV in, which took her 3 tries. I am deathly afraid of needles and wanted to literally smack her it hurt so badly. 

Once she finally got me all hooked up to the monitors and the IV, we saw that I had already been having contractions but they weren't getting me anywhere. As soon as the medication had time to digest, I was having contractions every two minutes without progressing. Having only been in the hospital for an hour or so, the nurse had me walk the halls for the next two. 

So, I walked the halls in my wool socks, hospital gown, and perfectly curled hair. My Mother-in-law joined me while Mitch snuck out with his younger sister, Ciara, to grab contraband burritos. We visited while we walked the halls, and every once in a while we would pass a waiting room that had a few hopeful visitors for someone else giving birth who would congratulate me and urge me on! It was oddly inspiring having a room full of strangers tell you that you were doing great when it felt like I was just waddling around wasting time. 

When walking the halls showed that no progress was being made, I got to scarf down a burrito and wait. My contractions were still coming every two minutes so the doctors would not let me take any more medication lest they complicate the birth.

Midnight rolled around and I was still having contractions every two minutes while only being dilated to a one. My Mother-in-law and Ciara decided that they would get some sleep for the night, so Mitch drove them to the house we were staying at in Washington, which was about 45 minutes away. 35 minutes after they had left, my water broke unexpectedly! There I was, sitting all alone, wondering if I had just peed myself with no one to bounce ideas and anxiety off of. After about two minutes of contemplation, I decided that I had not peed my pants and that my water really did break on its own despite my low dilation. I rang the nurse: "Um.. hi... I'm honestly not sure... but... um... either I just peed my pants or my water just broke...?" I had no clue what else to say! It's not like I have a bladder issue or anything, but my water breaking on its own was completely unexpected. 

The nurse came in after my awkward phone call and was more shocked than I was that my water had broken. She had walked in nonchalantly, like, 'oh man, here's this young first-time-mom who has no clue what she is doing, who thinks that her water just broke.' Then when she checked me out, she was all, 'holy crap, here's this young first-time-mom who may be going into labor sooner than we thought!' She gave me a new robe to change into and told me to lay down and try to sleep while I still couldn't feel my contractions because I would more than likely progress much faster now that my water had broken. 

I called Mitch, who was probably just now making it to the house, and there was no answer. Again with my awkward phone etiquette, I left him probably the longest voicemail ever doing the whole "I thought I might have peed, but I didn't" drill. After leaving that golden voicemail, I heeded the nurses advice and fell asleep. Mitch woke me up by blasting through the door thinking that he was going to come in and trip over an umbilical cord or something. Apparently he had gotten my voicemail right as he arrived at the house, booted his mom and sister out of the car, and then sped all the way to the hospital. When he found that not much had changed, we decided to both get some rest and see what happened through the night. 

Around 3:00 am, I was woken up by my contractions. They were starting to feel like period cramps whereas before I honestly couldn't feel them when the nurse asked. They were getting worse as the night went on and when I woke up from a mostly restless night, I was already exhausted. The nurse came in to check me, a new nurse than the one I had before. She was much quieter than the nurse that I had before, whispering whenever she talked, and shuffling in and out of the room. She was very kind and allowed Mitch to go and grab us some breakfast as well as lunch later on in the day. 

My contractions kept getting worse and by 3:00 pm, I was only dilated to a four. The nurse brought in the anesthesiologist, who told me that I could either have an epidural then or more than likely have none at all. Since I had already had a horrible experience getting my IV's in, I really didn't want to get poked again, but I knew in my heart of hearts that I needed to get pain relief or else be miserable for who knew how much longer. The anesthesiologist was also a very handsome man, so that might have helped me make the decision as well. 

Honestly, the epidural was the greatest decision I made concerning my labor. I didn't even feel the prick of the needle or any pain from further contractions. Not only that, but I was still very much in control of my body. Within two and a half hours, I was dilated to a 10 and told to start pushing.

The very quiet nurse allowed my mother, mother-in-law, Mitch, and Ciara to stay in the room with me because she wanted to put them to work! She had my mother and Mitch hold up my legs while I pushed. The lot of them have now seen more of me than I ever wanted them too. Poor Ciara, who was about to turn 18, was so mortified that she just stayed right by my head, patting my hair and feeding me ice chips. 

The room was very peaceful while I pushed. Nothing like how Hollywood portrays giving birth. After pushing for two hours, the doctor was called in. It was a different doctor than the one that I had before. This doctor was a young Korean-American man who told us that he was scheduled for a c-section in the next 10 minutes but that he would help me out while he could. The 10 minutes ended all too quickly and another doctor was brought in who introduced himself as the Janitor. 

"Let's have a baby!" he said and got to work. And that's just what we did. 

Seven minutes later, at 7:43 pm, I was holding my sweet little baby boy. There was no screaming, no tears, just serenity while I held my little whimpering baby. He immediately started sucking on his fingers while his skin turned from plum to rosey pink. We are absolutely smitten.








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