When you become pregnant, women young and old, close friends as well as total strangers, will feel compelled to shared their birth story with you. It’s the mother’s equivalent of “war stories” that combat-tested veterans recount to their fellow military buddies. It’s the common bond of a shared experience, one that leaves you completely changed forever.
Now, I have my own birth story that I will share with you.
On Friday, October 3, 2008, we left the house bright and early to avoid the morning rush hour. My appointment for inducement was at 7:30 am at the Queens Medical Center. We arrived at the 10th floor Labor and Delivery Unit about 20 mintues ahead of schedule and was expeditiously settled into a room.
Pitocin - administered by IV, started at 8:30 am, 10/3/08
The nurse who got my IV started remarked that I have “beautiful veins,” but over the course of the next few hours, my arm would start to get puffy and they would remove and restart the IV in another location. My beautiful veins got poked four times before they finally settled on a location on the back of my left hand. It was through the IV that they administered a lovely cocktail of drugs including pitocin (to induce labor), an antibiotic (to treat my group B strep), and liquids to keep me hydrated.
My cocktail of IV drugs
Aside from the IV catheter in my arm, I also had two monitors attached to my stomach: one to monitor the fetal heart rate and the second to monitor my contractions. Being connected to all of these machines was perhaps one of the most frustrating parts of the experience for me, making my frequent trips to the bathroom extremely cumbersome, as Hubby would have to disconnect everything from the machines, hold the dangling cords, and push the IV pole with me into the restroom.
Since I had gestational diabetes, the nurse would come every two hours or so to check my blood sugar level much like I did at home with the finger poke test kit. Thankfully, my sugar levels were all within range and it didn’t pose a further problem for the delivery. My blood pressure was also behaving itself, staying typically on the lower end of normal.
My OB came to see me around 1:00 pm and did an extremely uncomfortable cervix check. At that time, I was 2 cm dilated and 40% effaced. It literally felt like she shoved her entire hand up there. I suppose if a 6 lb. baby is supposed to fit through there, a hand shouldn’t be that bad, theoretically. To speed things along, she broke my bag which was worse than the aforementioned cervix check. I wouldn’t say it was extremely painful, just very, very uncomfortable.
Although they administered the pitocin at 8:20 am, the contractions didn’t start becoming uncomfortable until after the doctor ruptured my membranes. They offered me IV drugs, which I opted out of, since numerous people shared that it doesn’t take the pain away, but merely takes the edge off — and it makes you feel drowsy. I don’t particularly like the drowsy/drugged out feeling, so I decided to forgo the IV drugs. I was asked by several different nurses about whether I would be opting for an epidural for pain management. I told them I was taking the “wait and see” approach. They assured me that it was a safe procedure, that the drugs do not affect the baby, and that it would make for a more pleasant birthing experience. I was still leery about the prospect of someone taking a needle to my back, so I told them to hold off.
The nurse remarked that she guessed that I might give birth around midnight or soon after, but it seemed that my cervix was not about to fulfill that prediction. The progress of dilation and effacement was slow, despite the chemical assistance. They regularly bumped up my pitocin dose and the contractions came steady and with increasing intensity. Hubby helped me breathe through them and timed them to see how far apart they were coming.
Around 4 pm, the nurse indicated that they would have to hook me up to an internal monitor and she highly recommended getting an epidural for it, since it would be uncomfortable. Despite my apprehension about the procedure, I relented and said I would take the epidural. I was praying the entire time, especially when he had me leaned over, with a needle heading for my spinal canal. Thank God there were no complications that resulted from the procedure.
As the doctor was working on me, I already started feeling the effects of the epidural. My eyes were moving in slow motion and my head started feeling fuzzy. Hubby noticed my slow-moving eyes and chuckled, “drunk already?” The doctor looked up and said, “I didn’t give you anything yet. It’s only the test dose!” Everyone had a good laugh about that.
By 5:00 pm, I was 3 cm dilated, 50% effaced.
Once the epidural truly took effect, I was blissfully unaware of the comings and goings of the contractions. Hubby watched the monitor and said, “here comes one. Do you feel that?” I would cheerfully response, “Nope! Drugs good…”
It went on like that until the epidural started wearing off and the painful contractions were back. The anesthesiologist returned and I got “topped off” and dozed off shortly after. When I awakened, my left leg was completely numb, feeling like a dead weight. In a panic, I turned to Hubby, “my leg is numb! It’s paralyzed!” With all the effort I could muster, I tried to move my leg but I couldn’t feel whether it was moving or not. “Is my leg moving?” I asked Hubby if it was moving or not and he confirmed that it was. One of my greatest fears with taking the epidural is being rendered paralyzed or suffering some nerve damage, so when I couldn’t feel my leg, my brain started jumping to crazy conclusions. When the nurse came in, I asked her about the numbness and she assured me that it was completely normal.
I developed a fever in the evening and another bag of antibiotics was added to my IV drip and a tylenol suppository (oh, joy) was ordered.
At midnight, I was only 3 cm dilated, so I turned in for the night thinking good thoughts of dilation and effacement. The next morning, I was 6 cm dilated and 80% effaced. With the shift change, I got a new nurse and a new anesthesiologist who gave me another top off on the epidural. I mentioned that the previous epidural made my leg numb and affected mostly my left side, so he made some adjustments on the dose and it seemed to do the trick. No pain, but yet no numbness. Pure bliss!
Apparently, the doctor wasn’t happy with my progress thus far and there was talk of of a cesarean section. I prayed that it wouldn’t come to that, but steeled myself for the possibility.
Around 10:00 am, my OB showed up and did another cervix check. Almost non-chalantly, she said, “let’s try pushing.” The nurses positioned me in the bed and gave me brief instructions about grabbing my knees and pulling them toward me as I push like I’m having a bowel movement. They also gave Hubby instructions on how to count and coach me through the pushing. As they watched the monitor for my next contraction (since I couldn’t feel them, due to the epidural), it all still felt like a dress rehearsal. It wasn’t until I had done about four bouts of pushing did it dawn on me that this was it! They asked me if I wanted a mirror to watch the action, but I opted not to. (It wouldn’t be a good idea to have the mommy fainting during the pushing phase, after all.) They told me to reach down and feel the head crowning. Now that was nothing short of surreal.
I pushed for 50 minutes. Each time, I wasn’t really sure if I was pushing with the right muscles since my lower half was affected by the epidural. But, the medical staff was quick to encourage me, letting me know that I was doing the right thing and the baby was coming. Every time I pushed, I felt like every blood vessel in my head was about to explode, tensing every muscle in my body and holding my breath through each count of ten.
There seemed to be a lull in the activity and the OB looked at the progress. “Try pushing one more time,” she said. And when I did, I felt the incision of the episotomy and immediately the pressure was gone.
It was October 4, 2008 at 10:53 am.
The baby was out and the staff started scurrying in a flurry of activity, whisking away the baby. The doctor quickly said that baby had pooped and there was risk of meconium aspiration, so they were tending to her. Next, I felt the placenta being delivered, which felt more like the doctor yanking it out of me. The rest was a blur. I just remember lying there, craning my neck to see what was going on. Hubby looked at me with concern, before the staff urged him to see the baby and cut the umbilical cord.
Hubby cuts the umbilical cord
I felt the doctor stitching me up as Hubby assured me that baby is doing fine. The baby weighed in at 6 pounds 5.6 ounces and measured 20-inches long. Her one minute agpar score was 5, but she rapidly improved and scored 9 at five minutes. Baby was healthy — thank God!
Baby weighs in at 6 lbs 5.6 oz
Then came the shakes. Violent and unrelenting. My entire body was seized by uncontrollable tremors that frightened me more than the actual labor and delivery. A cold sweat started to come over me and I was worried that I might pass out. The nurse said that it was normal for some mothers to experience that after the birth and that there were drugs available to stop them if they didn’t go away shortly after. I endured them for what seemed like an eternity (although it was probably only a few minutes), and I asked them to administer the drug since it was becoming unbearable. They did and a few minutes later, my body settled down as they rolled me out of my L&D room and into the much smaller recovery room.
When my mind became more lucid, I lifted prayers of thanksgiving for the miracles that we experienced that day — and for the past nine months. Baby Krislyn was born and it was all because of God’s goodness and grace that we were able to have this awesome opportunity to become parents. What an incredible blessing and childbirth truly is a miraculous thing.
My little miracle
