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the "stats"
labor: 52 hours
beginning: 2:17 am 09-13-95
pushing: 1 hour 30 minutes
baby born: 8:05 am 09-15-95
weight: 5 pounds, 15 ounces
length: 19.25 inches
APGAR: 7/9
aaaahhh....giving birth....(the gory details)
I went into labor at 2:17am on Wednesday morning, September 13, 1995. This was almost 2 weeks before my predicted "due date" of 09-25. At 3pm on Thursday I went to my OB/GYN (a regular appointment, scheduled weeks in advance) and she did a sonogram to see if I was ready to be admitted into the hospital.
She (Dr. Kathryn Reed) decided that I had too little amniotic fluid left, and so she wanted to induce labor. I walked out of her office and through some double doors, and was admitted into the Labor and Delivery ward, on the 8th floor of University Medical Center in Tucson, AZ. (I myself was born in this very ward.)
My mother, having flown 3,000 miles to speak at a conference in Boston that morning, had just flown back early, and arrived at the hospital. My husband went home with her to get the video camera. My childbirth instructor came to sit with me, (a wonderful woman...she stayed for the whole thing, and even held one of my feet during delivery.)
At 6pm they added Pitocin to my already dripping IV. Not too much later I was given an epidural. The epidural made my hips and legs feel numb...even number than numb...touching my right thigh, I would have been tempted to bet money that it was a "trick" and that it was someone ELSE'S leg, not mine. The left side, however, kept "coming back" and I had to have the epidural 'recharged' twice.
Somewhere around 3 in the morning the nurses became very worried about my baby. With each contraction his heart rate dropped from 130-140 down to 25-40. They put me on 'internal' monitors . . . taking off my 'belt' monitors in favor of these:
- internal contraction monitor - a tube that goes inside through the vagina and is placed between the baby and the inside wall of the uterus and 'feels' the pressure of the contractions.
- internal fetal monitor - this is really gross - they take some wire doohicky with a small 'corkscrew' shaped wire at the end . . . and they put it in through the vagina and screw the wire into the baby's scalp.
They decided to "decrease some of the pressure" on the baby by doing something I had never heard of. They put water back into me! (not the same water....)
When his heartbeat continued to drop with each contraction, the nurse put her hand inside and scratched him lightly on the scalp to stimulate him. I watched the numbers on the monitor go back up . . . it was working! They had me on my hands and knees for the least amount of pressure on the baby, and continued to scratch his scalp with every contraction. The contractions were an even 3 minutes apart.
I consider this to have been one of my 'low points' in dignity. On my hands and knees (did I forget to mention the oxygen mask?) with my butt facing the *usually* closed door, tubes hanging out of my crotch, and every three minutes some lady reaching in to scratch my baby's head. In a moment of inspiration I looked at my husband and began to sing, from West Side Story, "I Feel Pretty" . . .
At about 6:30 am Friday morning, they came in to check my dialation. I was exhausted. I had been on the verge of falling asleep. The epidural had worn off again, and I had been asking them to call the anesthesiologist back. The doctor reported with a smile "you are at 10 cm!" I felt relief . . . it was almost over . . . I would get my epidural recharged . . . I would rest for a few minutes (say, "10") and then I would have my baby, at last.
WRONG!!!!! The other doctor was called and I was maneuvered into 'position' . . . I suddenly made a plea to my husband and threw up in the container he brought to me. I wiped my mouth and had barely leaned back again before the doctor sitting between my legs told me to push.
PUSH?!!??!!? NOW?!?!!?!? Couldn't I rest for just a few minutes?
No. Push!
I pushed.
I pushed again.
I held my breath and put my chin to my chest and pushed.
My husband counted to 10, I breathed, and pushed again.
The contraction relaxed. I relaxed. OUCH! I felt the cramp defy my attempts to relax. I relaxed anyway, nudging myself past the cramp . . . I breathed hard. Wow. That was hard.
PUSH!!!
WHAT?!! ALREADY???!?!
It had been almost 90 seconds since I had felt the last contraction let go.
I pushed.
With each contraction I pushed 3 or 4 times.
Between each contraction came the terrible cramping. Sometimes I whimpered, but mostly I was silent. I didn't have the energy to yell, curse, or cry, or do anything birthing mothers are reputed to do.
Sometimes I fell asleep for those 90 seconds. But then I would feel the contraction come again . . . why wouldn't they let me sleep? I was exhasted . . . I was hungry . . .
I pushed.
An hour passed. I thought I would die. I had begun to lose faith that I was actually having a baby . . . I felt that this was my life now, pushing endlessly.
A half hour passed. I was getting ready to give up. "Go home everyone, sorry, no baby...sorry..."
I asked "how much longer?" and a nurse looked at the clock . . .8:00 am . . . "You'll have this baby by 8:30!" she said. I sank. Another half hour? I couldn't do it. There was no way.
My mom said "it will be sooner than that...just a few minutes" when she saw the look of despair creep across my face.
Then they all started asying "here comes the head!!!" and the doctor stood up. He pulled some scissors out and waited for my contraction to start. I heard a sickening snip like cutting through a stalk of celery as he made the episiotomy.
Then I pushed again and I felt the head pop through. I stared in amazement between my legs as I watched them turn the head and suction the nose and mouth. Such a tiny head! And sticking out of there!
Then they told me "one last push". . .
I pushed.
I felt my baby slide into this world and saw the doctor lift him up.
I began to shake uncontrollably, and cry. I laughed. I was amazed. My mother broke into tears, my husband smiled and hugged me. Then the phone calls began. My dear friend (and the baby's godmother) Kathleen was in the hall waiting, and she came in. I looked across the room at my little boy, screaming under the heating lamps. They had wanted to check him right away because of the complications.
Then I had to push out the placenta. That hurt, but not as much. Mostly, it just hurt to flex there again.
My husband walked over to me with a bundle in a blanket. He handed me my son.
Where was my son?
All I could see was the top of the little cap they had put on his head. I fished around, moving the blankets trying to see his face, until the doctor, still stitching me up, told me to be still.
I ate the hospital breakfast they served me as if it were the finest gourmet meal. I was so hungry. Then I was moved to the Maternity ward, where I napped for almost 4 hours.
I left the hospital the next morning, but my baby was kept an extra day. My husband and I slept that night in the waiting room next to the newborn nursery. The next 2 weeks we stayed at my mom's house, and then finally, we brought our son home.
Click here to see a picture of "Dino."
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