Looking for part one? Here is a link.
We have been taken up to Labor and Delivery, and are put in a closet.
Seriously, this room is so small the bed and two chairs hardly fit. She attaches me to the oh so lovely monitors and says I need to be still for 20 minutes so they can check on baby. Then she will run the test to check that my water has broken and to see how dilated I am. Oh and “if” I am having decent contractions they will admit me. Awesome, everything stops. So I lay there attached listening to the baby’s heartbeat and waiting. Nurse, after we tell her that this isn’t baby number one, we kinda know what is going on, decides to check me and do the test before making me sit on the monitors for 20 minutes. So she does that, repositions things and leaves.
The doula looks at the output and says that when we first got there I was contracting every 4 minutes, now after about an hour of sitting, it was about every 10. I don’t feel the contractions, I feel tightening but it isn’t uncomfortable. The nurse comes back in and says that she talked to Dr. Rice (my doctor, not the doctor on the floor like she planned to) and I am getting admitted to have a baby, and that we will be in the low intervention room. Dr. Rice comes about noon and we talk about what our options are.
At this point we had been in the hospital for two hours and things had basically stopped. She gave us some options: walking, nipple stimulation with the a breast pump, the Cooks Balloon. I ask, “what is the time line?”, I know we are on a clock now, so what does SHE need to see and when. Ideally she wants baby here by 2 am. At 8 pm if things are not moving she would like to start pitocin. We decide to eat lunch, and walk until doctor will be back after office hours about 3.30 pm.
Mr. Wonderful runs and gets lunch, and Rachel, our doula, and I start walking… We pause for lunch and we walk more. Rachel leaves to take care of a few things at home. So Mr. Wonderful and I walk a little and have some “adult time”, and get back to walking. Dr. Rice comes back and checks me and does a cervical message and says that I am at a 3 and if she wanted to be generous I could be stretched to a 4. Baby head was coming down, but we still had a lot of work to do.
Back to walking, and walking, and walking. Now, I wasn’t just pacing the halls, I would get a contraction and I would stop, hold onto the handrails and try to just let everything go as loose and relaxed as I could. Around 5, I ask the nurse to check me, feeling like I was maybe at a 7, only to have her say, “Well would you like to try the breast pump now?” (I am not actually told where I am at.) Disappointed, I say I would like to eat dinner because I know it is going to be a long night and I try to take a little nap. Mr. Wonderful lays with me for a bit and I tell him that I am feeling really disappointed and really lacking the motivation to do this. 8 pm seems so close and I don’t want to have pitocin. Plus, I am trying to relax but I am afraid that I will just go backwards if I do nap. He goes and talks to the nurse and Rachel before going to get dinner. Rachel comes over and talks to me about how far I have progressed already in a short amount of time and that taking a nap won’t close my cervix, and that it might actually help me to relax and help me later having conserved some energy.
So I try to nap, but I start to get some contractions in bed. (The low intervention suites at this hospital have really comfy queen sized beds, so I had lots of room.) After a few contractions I decide to walk more because it was more comfortable. So off Rachel and I go. Mr. Wonderful comes back with dinner and I eat a few bites and decide that if I keep eating I am going to throw it up, and I really don’t want to ruin Chick-Fil-A. I pace the room while Rachel and Mr. Wonderful finish eating and start to have some good contractions.
We stay in the room and we put a large exercise/birth ball on the bed and I am leaning over it and squatting during the contractions. At about 7, I let out a good moan that has Mr. Wonderful and Rachel ask, how was that different? Shortly, my two nurses come in, the day nurse and the night nurse, shift change. They contact Dr. Rice and she comes right over. I am oblivious to most of what is going on, just doing my thing and making jokes about the music choices Mr. Wonderful is playing.
At this point in my head, I have an hour before the doctor hooks me up to the pitocin and in my mind everything will cascade. The doctor checks me after she get there and tells me I can’t push, I still have work to do. So I keep going; swaying, squatting, grunting, moaning and changing positions: Standing, kneeling, lying down, on my side, you name it. The doctor checks me again probably about an hour later and tells me I am really close, I have a lip that needs to open up before I can push. I don’t know what time it is, I haven’t noticed that they have wheeled in a few things, or that there is a nursing student watching me.
I just keep doing what I am doing, until I start to express to Mr. Wonderful how I really can’t do this anymore. In my head I am thinking about how great some drugs would be, and am trying to think about how to ask from something, “Maybe they can just give me some Tylenol.” is what I am trying to figure out how to express. Things keep going, I roll over exhausted, and say “I can’t do it, it hurts too much and is too hard.” Dr. Rice checks me again and says I can start pushing if I want.
Now this whole time I have to poop. I have already mentioned it, and the staff joked about how it was for them, my nurse, doctor and doula, all in turn share and we all kinda chuckle about it. So I keep just trying to poop, but I also don’t want to push too hard, because I don’t want to tear really badly like it did with Mr. Z. So now that I am feeling mentally and physically done and have given a few pushes, the doctor tells me she is going to help things move and relieves me. I think, ok sure, whatever, I don’t think this baby is really ever going to make it out of me.
Doctor is coaching me, and has been doing hot compresses to help keep things loose to help prevent tearing. I finally say, “I am done, I can not do this.” “I need you to give me one good push on this next contraction.” I start to push but then I am worried about tearing and stop in the middle. “NO! Don’t stop, keep pushing.” “I can’t! It hurts too much.” “Baby’s head is right here, PUSH!”
So I do, I push, it burns, I know I tore, but baby head is born, my water fully brakes in a gush and the rest of baby slides right out. Baby Boy Teare was born at 9.27 PM. Mr. Wonderful announced to the room it was a boy, as he gets placed on my chest, and I comment on how much hair he has. We get about an hour of time with baby on me and I get to latch him and nurse him before they take him and weigh and measure. Mr. Wonderful got to help with all of that in the room. He was 5 pounds and 14.8 ounces and 18.5 inches long. I had a second degree tear and Dr. Rice did an extra thorough job of checking and there wasn’t any extra damage like with Mr. Z, recovery has been so much better than with him.
