How she got here, Part 1

I've been meaning to write Tres's birth story. It occurs to me that, while I've told their stories here and there, I haven't written about the other girls' arrivals for the record, either. So maybe I'll do that now.

Uno
My first pregnancy. Though I still had some lingering fears and neuroses about doctors (yes, even after having been married to one for a year and a half), 37 weeks as the incubator of an adorable parasite had left me feeling a little demoralized. I didn't care anymore what it took; I wanted that kid OUT. And although I had an induction scheduled five days later, my body had made no progress on its own and that light at the end of the tunnel offered no comfort.

"I feel about as likely to have this baby any time soon as I did five months ago," I told DH over dinner as I pushed around the nasty food on my plate. I think I ate three bites before giving up.

I stayed up until around midnight watching TV, and then went to sleep -- or tried to, anyway. At 2am I got up to go to the bathroom; on the way back to bed my water broke. DH insisted we should go straight to the hospital but I made him call my doctor first, because that's what the books say you should do. ("Not at 2:00 in the morning," he said. "Not when it's obvious your water broke. Not when your husband is a 4th year medical student who ought to-- no, who does know better.") I think he's still irritated about that. Oops.

I still had Lovenox in my system so the first doctor to come see me was the anesthesiologist to say that I couldn't have an epidural; the blood thinner could react with it in such a way as to leave me permanently paralyzed. I don't remember anymore if I had even wanted an epidural -- I had overcome my fear of needles by then (though not my fear of pain) but it seems profoundly unnatural to lose most or all sensation in your lower half. That still freaks me out. In any case, after discussing my options I decided to use Nubain for pain relief. And then we sat around waiting for that pain to come.

We waited. And we waited. Nothing happened for hours. The doctors weren't sure what to do with me -- wait for labor to develop on its own (which it didn't seem to want to do) and risk infection? Give me pitocin to jump start the process and risk complications from my clotting disorder and / or the Lovenox still in my system? About ten hours after I arrived, they decided to go ahead with the pitocin. And still, even as contractions finally began to register on the hospital monitors, I waited for the pain.

Apparently these not-so-painful labors run in the family: I turned out to be not quite as tough as my mother -- who used no pain meds in any of her eight deliveries, and who, mere seconds after the first one popped out, exclaimed, "That was fun! Let's do it again!" (seriously!) -- but so far my sisters and I seem to have some magic buffer against the ravages of labor contractions. At least the initial ones. Thumbs up for those genes!

I grew increasingly hungry and sad as the day wore on; I hadn't eaten much the night before and as far as I knew I was only allowed ice chips until after the baby showed up. She didn't seem terribly anxious to get there. Imagine my delight and surprise, then, when a hospital food services employee brought me a bowl of weak tomato broth for lunch, and another with chicken broth for dinner. Who knew hospital food could taste so good?

By evening the pitocin-induced contractions I'd had since noon finally got strong enough to feel uncomfortable, and eventually even painful, so I asked for a dose of Nubain in my IV. It took effect almost immediately: I felt pleasantly heavy and floaty, and the pain dialed back a notch to where it had been about an hour before. I asked for two more doses before all was said and done.

We hit the 24-hour mark at 2am the next morning -- one full day since my water had broken, and still no baby. I'd been awake for nearly two days straight (having slept only a couple hours the night before) and, broth aside, hadn't eaten much to fuel this little birthing marathon. I started to get testy. I felt the urge to push long before I was dilated enough for pushing to do any good. It being my first labor, and not having taken any classes to know how to relax or what to do, I started to feel a little panicky. I was about 7cm when I asked DH when I'd be able to push for real. (It was very clear to me that I meant, do I really have to get all the way to 10? Or can I push when I just get close to 10cm?)

He replied, "You can push when they tell you to."

I looked at him with eyes like daggers, dug my nails into his hand, and said, "THAT'S THE STUPIDEST ANSWER I'VE EVER HEARD. Obviously when they tell me to. WHEN WILL THAT BE?"

He apologized and I apologized and that was as close as I came to the swearing, head-spinning, demon-possessed L&D stereotype from television and movies. I couldn't afford to curse when it did come time to push; the contractions were too close together and I could only breathe between them. I would have had to waste an entire contraction or two to get any good swear words out and it simply wasn't worth the trouble. So I pushed when they told me to, and breathed in between. But half way through the process I realized I wasn't giving 100% effort, as if merely following instructions at their most basic ought to be good enough to get by. So then I started pushing for real, pushing for a few seconds beyond what I thought I had strength for, even, and finally at 3:09am -- 25 hours after labor began! -- 6 lb 8 oz Uno arrived.

The first words my daughter heard her mother say: "Oh my gosh! Look at that!" As if I had expected something other than a baby. I don't remember it, but DH says the doctor and nurses all giggled.

They took her to the nursery shortly thereafter and I fell almost immediately to sleep. I have never in my life felt so completely exhausted, physically, mentally, emotionally. I slept better than the dead -- apparently through a couple vitals checks, even! -- and woke up at mid-morning, transformed into this strange person called Mom.

More to come....


~RCH~