Birthing

Birthing sucks. There are no if, ands, or buts about it. I suppose there are women out there that revel in the experience. I went into delivery thinking I might be one of those women - you know, no pain killers, walking around as I calmly breathe through the contractions, suffering through the rite of birth as millions of women have done before me.

Um. Wrong. Here's how my birth story went.

At 5:30 in the morning, I woke up to mild stomach cramps. They seemed to occur at regular intervals so I thought myself, "oh, this must be the day!" After a little while, I get up to use the restroom and sure enough, there was my mucous plug in the toilet. At this point, I take a shower, poke Badge awake to let him know the news, and then go downstairs to eat breakfast. I actually had a ob appt that morning at 10 so I decide to go in and let them know I was having contractions. The doctor checked my cervix and said I was only dilated 1.5 cm. She didn't seem convinced that I would go into labor so she told me to go home and see if it continues. Once home, I lay on the couch (spread a trash bag under me in case my water breaks - hey it's a new couch) and suffer in silence. My mom, who was staying with us for the big event, unhelpfully took pics of me while I was laying there in pain. Good one, Ma. Those pics will never see the light of day. Around 11:30, the pain was quite intense so Badge, my mom and I packed into the Leaf and drove to the hospital. By the time we get there, I'm shaking uncontrollably during each contraction. The lady at the front desk offered me a wheelchair which I gladly took (ironic how I scoffed at needing a wheelchair during our hospital tour). Once checked in, the nurse checked my cervix and I was a stretchy 3.5 cm dilated - interesting side note, everyone kept commenting how stretchy my cervix is... good to know.

At this point, I'm dry heaving through each contraction. The pain is like nothing I've ever felt before. It literally feels like someone is ripping my stomach and intestines out. All my excellent yogic breathing skills go out the door and I'm just trying to hang on to my sanity. I'm not kidding. I really thought if I had to go through another hour of this pain I would be driven to madness. Suffice it to say, I was asking every 5 minutes for the epidural. Sadly for me, the anesthesiologist was in surgery for a cesarean so I have to wait. Nooooo. Finally around 1:40pm, the man appears like a knight in shining armor and gives me my shot. I want to kiss him or name my baby after him. The pain fades and I lay there in bliss, watching the blips on the chart that track my contractions. From here, it was just a matter of waiting. The doctor came in and noted that I was dilating well. Around 4pm I was dilated close to 9cm but then got stuck there for some reason. The doctor again felt around and was unsure what position the baby was (face up or face down) and also thought she felt the cord around the shoulder. Not a good sign. She warned me that a cesarian was a possibility and then gave me a little pitocin to encourage my cervix to dilate the rest of the way. After a while, I developed a fever and the doc made the decision to let me start pushing since the baby was already so low. She thought maybe she could get him out with forceps if need be.

By that point it was around 7pm I think, so I hike up my legs and start pushing. Wow, pushing is hard. You pretty much just bear down until your face is purple and you can't breathe, then do it all over again. I gave myself a mammoth headache from the strain and lack of oxygen to my brain. After an hour and twenty minutes of this (which I was told is not bad for a first time mom), the head starts to emerge so everyone gets in position for the last push. At this point, my mom and Badge set up the computer and put my sister on gchat and point her at my nether regions. Gotta love technology. Alright so, final push and Max comes flying out. At this point several things happened.

1. Max had the umbilical wrapped around his head and shoulders and the doc had to do some quick maneuvering to get him unwrapped (thankfully she was quick on her toes).
2. Max pooped on his way out, I think from all the stress.

The doctor plops the baby in my arms, poop and all. I get a minute to smile at this slime-y little creature before the attendants move him to the side to clean him up. Unfortunately, then they notice:

3. Max is not breathing properly. He sounds like he's struggling.
4. Max has a fever of 102.9.
5. Max has a heartbeat of 202bpm (~150bpm is typical)

Once he's cleaned up and weighed, the baby is taken to the nursery for observation. Badge left to be by his side the whole time. Everyone is waits around in nervous anticipation - pretty stressful. After a couple hours, he comes back to let me know that the baby has stabilized and is doing much better. Whew. I get moved to a recovery room and after another hour they bring our little guy back to us and I start breastfeeding, Here's our little nugget of joy.


Now, you would think that's the end of the story and everything is uphill from here. Wrong again! Recovery was not easy for me. But that's for the next blog post. Stay tuned.