Birth Story Part I

My due date was October 8th, and it was really accurate because I know when we conceived. The problem was: Mark and I were married October 5, 2002, and I was really concerned about sharing a birthday and an anniversary date. I know, I'm selfish, but I'd rather have the two separated by a few days. So October 1st came and went. I went to work that day, Saturday, but only stayed for two hours before

I went home.


Then Sunday October 2nd came. Mark was working, and after work I made
him go to a concert with his old colleague, and coincidentally, one of my managers, J., because it was his birthday and he had tickets to see System of A Down. I insisted Mark go because J.'s wife didn't want to go, and it was his birthday and all that. Plus, it was at the Pepsi Center, and was all ages so I figured he'd be home by 12:15 at the latest.

Mark told me when he got home: he met up with J. who was hammered, and they saw SOAD and Mars Volta. Mark had never heard of either of the two bands, and didn't really care for them. After the show, J. wanted to go to Shotgun Willie's, a local strip joint, and his friend, a manager there, comped their food and admission. Mark then said the manager was dressed up in an Evel Knieval a la "Matt Knieval" outfit and had a small 50cc dirtbike in the club. J. had told Mark it was a 250cc bike so Mark said he definitely had to go see this. This being: he was going to jump it off a ramp over a cookie sheet with flaming Matchbox cars on it - IN the club. The first time, Matt Knieval jumped over the tray, crashed the bike into a table, and fell over. The second attempt, he cleared the jump, did an endo, and then crashed it into a table. Mark said it was hysterical. They left after that debacle and Mark had to drive J. home to Parker, which is a suburb very far to the southeast. Due to T-REX construction on I-25, several of the on-ramps were closed so they had to drive all over hell and creation. Mark finally dropped J. off only to discover the northbound on-ramps were also closed. So he called me, lost in suburban hell and related his adventures as he navigated home.


Mark arrived at 2:30am and continued telling me about his night. I was rolling on the floor hysterically laughing. Finally, he finished the story and I told him that I had polished off the delicious salsa one of his associates had made us, and that my stomach felt funny. I had been having very, very mild contractions for a few weeks, with no regularity. I told him that I was having kind of regular contractions, and he told me it was probably due to the salsa and that we should go to bed. He had to work at eight and was already thinking he wouldn’t get enough sleep that night. I wasn’t in pain so I agreed.

Early Labor
At 4am, I woke up – not unusual for a nine month pregnant woman, right? Except this time, I felt these contractions. They were uncomfortable but not painful. I woke up Mark who tried to tell me it was the salsa again. I told him he was wrong and made him time some contractions which were only 30 seconds long and about 5-8 minutes apart. Then, he said, “Remember in birth class, they said to try to sleep until the contractions are one minute long, four minutes apart, for one hour.” I tried to go back to sleep, but the contractions went from uncomfortable to painful, and woke Mark up again. I felt like this was probably “it,” but was pretty calm.

Mark snoozed ‘til around 6am, when I made him time more contractions. They were about 30-50 seconds long and 3-6 minutes apart. We decided since I was in pain but not unbearable, that we’d wait ‘til 7am to call Dr. M., so I took a shower, drank water, and ate pineapple chunks, which were the only things that sounded appetizing to me. I also called my mom to let her know.

Actually, I took about three or four showers. The steam and water felt really, really good. I also spent a lot of time sitting on the toilet thinking I had to pee. Nope. But I did get the “bloody show,” and that really made me think this was the real deal. What was Mark doing? Snoozing intermittently.

Finally, it was 7am, and I made Mark call the doctor’s office. Of course, they opened at eight so I decided I would try to make it ‘til then. I was convinced I was just at 1 or 2cm dilation and at birth class they said to try to stay at home as long as you feel comfortable so you don’t get sent home as being not ready. I took a few more showers and the contractions held steady in duration and frequency but got worse in pain.

Active Labor
Eight o’clock came and Mark again called the doctor’s office. What he claims he told me at the time but I don’t remember, so I only “found out” last month, was that Dr. M. was off that day. All I knew was that a few minutes later, I was talking to Dr. M. and he told me I could go into the hospital.

I was, of course, packed, and had been for the 2+ weeks since the low amniotic fluid scare when I was convinced they were going to induce me immediately. We set off for the hospital using Mark’s chosen route, which I had finally admitted was quicker after seven months of squabbling. I sat in the back seat where I held on with white knuckles because by this point I was very, very uncomfortable.

We got to the hospital and to the Baby Place... that's what they call it, really, about 9:30am. There was a clan of people st the registration desk who seemed to be taking forever. By this point I really was overwhelmed with all kinds of thoughts:

• impending death - fetal or mine
• pain
• epidural causing paralysis
• c-section
• and oh my god I'm having a baby!!!!

So I started bawling. The wait just sent me over the edge and I was hysterical. The nurses took me into the triage/examination area where they did my blood pressure and attached fetal monitors and asked me a thousand questions that I tried to have Mark answer.

I finally calmed down and W., the delivery nurse tried to put in the IV attachment thing: heparin lock? I, hating needles, shut my eyes. She put the rubber hose around my left arm and told me it would "work better if I opened and closed blah blah blah" as I had another contraction. I thought she meant my eyes for some reason so I blinked copiously until we all realized I was not clenching my fist. That ridiculousness took the edge of my tension and I relaxed. But then after rooting around in my left arm for what felt like ever, the nurse told me I had bad veins. I had always thought I had good veins because they pop out like crazy all the time. Apparently, I have gaskets every half-inch or so and the IV needle wouldn't lie in properly. On to the right arm where I was gouged and failed to get it in again. On the third try, we had success.

W. then fisted me, I mean checked my cervix. Amazingly, I was at 6cm. This was great news to me because I had made it so far with no drugs. I told her that my biggest concern was to avoid the epidural, but that I might consider narcotics. And so I graduated to a labor and delivery room. I was so relieved that I had made it half way that I started taking note of my surroundings. The Baby Place delivery rooms are very posh. Hardwood floors, decorative drop ceilings, CD players, wood cabinets, baby warmers built into the walls, and other amenities, including a Jacuzzi. I hopped immediately into it.

The Jacuzzi represented another personal milestone for me. I wanted to use it to relieve my pain since I had heard such great things during birth class, and I knew I could only use it as long I wasn't hooked up to/on any medications. The massage action, the sound, the water pressure, the cool side of the tub for me to lay my face on, the grab bar to clench, all helped the contractions to go by without being unbearable. To pass the time, Mark fanned me and read from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire which we have been reading out-loud to each other forever now.

Transition
After about an hour and a half (11am?), I started to feel intense pressure like I had to poop or push something out of my nether regions. I knew from birth class that this meant active labor was over and that transition was starting, and in class the instructor stressed NOT to push. The contractions became unbearable and I clenched up my belly muscles, screamed and hollered, and felt just plain awful. Mark got W. who fisted me again. She said I had progressed to 8cm. I decided to get back into the Jacuzzi until I went insane or demanded drugs, whichever came first.

For a while longer (time ceasing to have meaning for me), I sat in the Jacuzzi and tried to listen to Mark read, but the pressure was really, really intense. I finally couldn't stand it and laid on the bed while Mark got the nurse. I knew at that point that I wasn't getting out of that bed again. I was still at 8cm, and this was a crushing blow. How could I have stopped?!? W. explained she could break my amniotic sac and that would probably make me progress, but I told her no, knowing that the contractions would get even more intense. I knew I wouldn't be able to hold out from serious drugs if it got much worse.

I laid there, suffering, and couldn't get myself to relax between contractions because I was so tense from the effort not to push. I asked for drugs for the first time - I made Mark promise me I had to ask for drugs three times before I could get them, just like Susan & Steve in Coupling. W. told me to "go with it" and bear down to see if that would make my PUSH! feeling ease up. I bore down with the next contraction when whoosh! My water bag finally broke and spewed everywhere. It seriously was like someone had broken a water balloon from inside my vagina: same popping sound, same enormous amount of water, same amazed look on both Mark and my faces. It's good thing I had been covered by a sheet or else the fluid probably would've hit the wall on the other side of the room... seriously. W. fisted me yet again, causing the usual enormous amount of pain, but the good news was that I was at 10cm!!!!