Warning: underneath the cut is probably entirely too much TMI, as it involves labor, which involved my vagina to extremes that i dont think it was ready for. Ow.
You’re going to have to forgive me, as this story is a little incoherant due to the quickness with which everything happened, and the fact that i just dont remember everything all that well. Pain does strange things.
So, Brandus left to go back to Pants the week before, and we put my father on a plane on Friday (like, 1am on Friday). We were all somewhat disappointed that i didnt immediately go into labor when either of those things happened, but we went on with life.
If you want to know the whole story of the 36 week preterm labor during which Voldemort WASNT born, you can read that here – as it helps explain the whys and irritations of the fact that i DIDNT go into immediate labor.
Anyway.
At this point, Im seeing my midwife twice a week, because im still 80% effaced and walking around at 4 to 5 cm dialated. All of that has something to do with my cervix and whether the baby can fall out.
He cant, by the way.
I get my haircut, my teeth cleaned, my nails done, and according to my mother, can now go into labor whenever Im ready.
Yeah. Sure.
On Sunday, Im having fairly regular contractions, but they dont hurt, so frankly, im completely ignoring them. My midwife told me to call/come in if something SIGNIFICANTLY different happened, and this isnt all that different from earlier, with the Braxton-Hicks and everything. Mom insists on timing them, but I generally forget to tell her when i have them, which to me means nothing is happening.
Monday, mom tells me that she has decided that i will have the baby May 2, as its the next full moon. I snort.
we run some errands, i take a nap, call brandus, share mom’s theory and say,
“its going to be the next two days.”
“why do you think that?” he asks.
“dunno. i just..feel kinda weird.”
that was 5:30. Brandus tells me he wants to go take a shower, and will call me back in an hour.
sure, no problem.
i go sit in the living room and check my email and lj and all my other vitally important things, and then this odd pain travels down into my lower abdomen and my lower back, and i think, OW.
So, time check. It is now Monday, approximately 5:40 or so. This is important, so remember it.
Ok. well. that OW qualifies as different. But is it different ENOUGH?
I dont mention it to my mother, who is doing something in the kitchen which sadly does not involve cookies.
4 minutes later, there it is again. And no matter how i shift, it doesnt help.
Thinks me, Hmm. Followed by: Ow.
I say, Hey Mom? You know that pain thing I said I would mention?
She says…oh. Oh, good. And blinks.
I wander back to the bedroom to stare blankly at things, as there is nothing really for me to do except for resume checking lj, which I attempt, but 4 minutes later, there is that pesky pain again.
And OW, for the record.
Mom says, when I tell her, “go take a shower.”
Now, please dont think she is trying to help me with pain management. No, she wants me to be cleaned and shampoo’d and dressed in clean underdrawers, as i might be in a wreck and if im in labor, im going to be CLEAN, dammit.
She suggested i shave my legs as well, but then realized i really couldnt bend over like that anymore.
I shower, because it seems like something to do, because i think if i can the OB triage nurse and say, Ive had three whole contractions! And they hurt! she’s just going to tell me to go away and come back in an hour if they dont go away.
I shower, occansionally having to bend over completely and swear at the floor, as FUCK that hurts, and now I have shampoo in my eyes and my back and abdomen hurts like i have cramps.
I get out and can overhear mom talking to my dad. “Yes, she’s having some pain. I dont know.”
I go out after putting clothes on (expecting any second for my water to break and ruin my clean underdrawers idea) and talk to my dad. He asks a question or two about what’s going on, and i tell him about the hurting and the pain and the fact that i feel like its about 400 degrees in the house, and oh yeah, there’s some blood.
he then MAKES SMALL TALK as i sit there and think owowoOWOWOWOWOW and i hand the phone back to mom, who was in her bedroom packing her bag.
I go and look at the bag i packed 2 weeks ago, and think, WHATEVER I DONT CARE.
Except i do remember my hairbrush and my toothbrush, so that was useful. and two of the only things i actually bothered to use out of my bag.
I call the nurse on call and say, Pain, 4-5 cm, 80%, preterm labor and she said, Im calling your doc, go in now.
Mom mentions taking a picture of me with my bag and stuff on the way out the door, and i contemplate murder. I now hurt every 2 minutes or so, and its only been about an hour or so, and frankly, this makes me very nervous.
I call Brandus, and he doesnt answer, so i leave a rather breathless rambly message involving YOU ARENT HERE AND I DONT WANT TO BE IN LABOR AND IM GOING TO HAVE A BABY.
I attempt to call him again from the car, a whole 2 minutes later, and my phone is out of minutes and wont let me. I consider crying, but just use my mom’s phone instead. Brandus picks up on the first ring and is rather flaily already. I tell him i have no idea what he’s saying, as I cant focus, but ill have mom call from the hospital depending on what they say.
I check in with the OB Triage, and no, the nurse hasnt called. And dear god, get me back there NOW. They check me in, I sign the same forms Ive now signed at least three times, and get me in the back. Mom is parking the car, and the nurse promises they’ll send her back to my room. This is just the area where they check to make sure you arent overreacting, and OH LOOK IM 7 CM DIALATED WHAT A SURPRISE.
They move me back to labor and delivery, and somewhere in there, someone tells me my midwife is on the way.
Good. Tell her I want drugs.
It is now somewhere around 7pm. I think.
My midwife walks in as Im hit with new and different levels of pain, and she tells me she didnt even bother showering, because she didnt want to risk missing anything.
I kinda laugh, because come on, i know we thought id go fast, but i still have hours left, right? I mean, labor is supposed to take a while.
Pain is getting worse and more intense.
It takes a nurse, the midwife, and 4 needles to get me hooked up to an IV. I tell the midwife I want drugs, and she asks me if i want IV drugs or an epidural.
Up to this point, i wanted to see what i could handle with the IV drugs, but after the 36 week preterm labor thing, where they gave me one of the pain meds to help me sleep and i was so out of it i was practically hallucinating muppets, im thinking that would be bad. I want to be able to be concious during labor.
So, I decide on an epidural, because at this point, i dont want to walk around anywhere ANYWAY. but, they cant do the epidural until ive had a liter of IV fluid and they’ve analyzed a vial of blood.
Tell them the hurry.
At this point, things get..fuzzy. I know what’s going on, i know my mom is still in the room, i know she and the midwife are chatting (CHATTING. WHILE IM TRYING NOT TO PUKE OVER HERE ON THIS BED) about knitting, I know Brandus and my father have been called, and I know the basin by my head is about the only thing I can currently hang on to.
I didnt puke, by the way, but man, did I want to.
Midwife says they can give me the epidural, and the doctor is on his way down RIGHT NOW, and i ask mom to take her freaking knitting and leave. Ok, so i didnt say that, but i did tell her to leave. neither me nor her wanted her to be there in the room anyway. although she did offer.
Pain wave hits and I feel fluid, and i tell the nurse i either just wet the bed or my water just broke.
My midwife checks me..no, water still intact, but at that point, it breaks. Im not sure if she broke it on purpose, or if it just happened. She says there is meconium in there, which brings up some concerns about the baby. He might have swallowed some, and that would be bad.
Um. She thinks there isnt enough time for an epidural.
I would cry if I had the energy. She tells me to push, instead.
The doctor walks in as Im pushing that first time, and she is telling him, No time! No time! Contact the NICU and have them come in here!
The doctor APOLOGIZES to me. For some reason, I think I said, No worries, not your fault, when what I SHOULD have said was GET OVER HERE AND GIVE ME MY EPIDURAL.
My otherwise fabulous midwife starts sternly ordering me to push and how to do that, which I swear, Im trying to do what she says, but man, its very hard to do and DID I MENTION THE FACT I DIDNT HAVE AN EPIDURAL?
They keep telling me to relax between contractions, and initally, im laying there twitching from the pain thinking THE HELL? and then, suddenly, all of my muscles give out. so, im sort of relaxing.
Again, this is all hazy, but i do remember them attaching a monitor to the top of his head, because he is having some odd heart patterns when i push.
At that point, they call a doctor in, and naturally, its the ONE DOCTOR in the practice that I really dislike. And honestly, i have no idea until after why they called him in. With kiddo’s weird heart reactions plus the meconium that was in my water when it broke, they’re worried they’ll have to get him out FAST, like, forceps/vacuum fast, and a doc has to do that. Not my midwife.
I remember hearing her tell the doc (who is a he) that i had been pushing about 25 minutes, and i guess that’s true. i have no idea.
He looks, then they start telling me to scoot down the table, as there is about to be stirrups involved. Before hand, the nurse and the midwife had each been holding one of me feet and i was supported that way. So, Im trying to scoot down and try not to push or cry or scream, and i cant see where the table is and i hate that doctor and i have very little idea of why this and why now, but i AM trying. They’re telling me that im delivering this baby NOW, and Im pretty sure i stutter out an OK.
The next bit just involves a lot of them telling me to PUSH, JUST LIKE THAT, HARDER, AGAIN, KEEP GOING I SEE HIM, YOU’RE ALMOST THERE and then there is a weird sudden POP and everyone gets very busy and i cant hear anything, and im asking, do i keep pushing? what do i do? and no one is talking to me even though the doc and the midwife are both very interested in whatever is going on between my legs and are murmering to each other as they did whatever.
And then there is some yelling of a very small sort and a very small red person is being carried PAST me by one of the 7 thousand people in the room (I have no clue when they all got there, but seriously, there are at least 7 people in that room, and i dont even remember them WALKING IN). I keep asking if he’s ok, and no one is answering, but he’s yelling awful loud, so it sure sounds like he’s healthy.
Finally, my midwife tells me he looks good, but the NICU people are looking him over to make sure. And oh, give one more push just for the heck of it for the afterbirth.
Oh, and by the way, you tore, so we have to stich you up.
Great.
Evil doctor doesnt even talk to me, which is fine by me, just supervises the stitching up of very delicate areas and leaves before the midwife is done.
She informs me i have a Level Three tear, and she’s glad they didnt cut me, because i probably wouldve torn right through it to a Level Four. Needless to say, this fills me with joy. As does the fact that they keep having to inject more numbing solution, because i can FEEL YOU PUTTING IN THE STITCHES AND OMG STOP.
Small loud person is still being examined and weighed and stuff, and ive yet to get a good look at him. They finally bring him over and put him on my chest while im still being stiched, and we just kinda stare at each other.
Ive got the shakes really bad, and im still trying to be as still as i can because there are still needles near areas i desperately do not want to think about needles being near. so, im a little scared im going to drop him or something.
but, we both are fine, although im sore and he’s cranky from his circumcision yesterday. Brandus got here on Tuesday, and i think its safe to say that he is completely fascinated by this strange little person who has invaded our lives.
Lord Voldemort DOES have a real name: Griffin.
we’re hoping he’ll forgive us for a name so similer to “Griffyndor.”
Expect many more pictures to follow. however, feel free to check out the flickr account for more.
He was born at 8:47 pm, less than 2 hours after i got to the hospital, and only about 3 hours after i started having pain. it was..insane.
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