My due date was September 1st, but that day came and went. At my 41 week
checkup I was only
dilated to 1cm and 50% effaced. I went for an ultrasound to measure the
amniotic fluid and had a
non-stress test. Everything was fine. At my next checkup a couple of days
later, I was dilated to
2cm but still only 50% effaced. The midwife estimated the baby's weight to be
between 9 and 9.5
lbs. We decided to schedule an induction for September 12th. I'm a full-time
student so I went to
class as usual on September 11th. After class, I went up to the library to
check out some books
to study from after the baby was born. After getting up from a low stool, I
felt a gush of fluid, just
enough to make me fairly certain that it was my water breaking and not urine
leaking! I went to
the bathroom and checked it out, the fluid looked yellowish and clear, a good
sign.
I made my
way as quickly as I could across campus, to my car, and drove home. When I
got there, I woke
up my husband Denny (who works nights) to tell him that I thought my water
had broken. His first
question was "Which car did you drive?" When I replied that I had driven our
newer Honda, his
reaction was to inquire whether I had gotten the seat wet! I couldn't believe
that he was more
concerned about the car seat than his wife! (He has since redeemed himself,
BTW) I then called
my midwife's office and since I wasn't having regular contractions yet, they
had me come in to
the office to be checked.
In the meantime, I hadn't had any further fluid
loss and was starting to
think that maybe I had imagined it all. As luck would have it, the minute I
got up onto the
examination table at the office, the leaking started again. I really made a
mess of their table. The
midwife at the office palpated my abdomen to check the baby's position,
causing a lot more fluid
to leak out, and told me that I should go to the hospital by 6 pm, even if
contractions hadn't yet
started. She also told me that June, the midwife on call, was currently at a
different hospital than
the one I was planning to deliver at, and that the OB on call was at my
hospital. This really
disappointed me since I had been seeing the midwives throughout my pregnancy
and had hoped
to have a midwife attend me for labor and delivery. Since I do a an afternoon
rural paper route, I
though that I would go ahead and deliver the papers for that afternoon. I
called Denny and asked
him to meet me and do the route with me. By the time he met me, it was 3:30
p.m. and I was
starting to have contractions. They were about 5 minutes apart and mildly
uncomfortable, but by
the time the route was complete, at 5:00 p.m., the contractions were 2-3
minutes apart and
starting to really hurt.
We hurried home to pick up Sean, our 10 year old son
who was to be
present at the birth, and went to the hospital. As luck would have it, by the
time I got situated in a
labor room, my contractions slowed down considerably. They hooked me up to
the fetal monitor
to check on the baby and see how my contractions were doing. Well, the baby
was fine, but the
contractions barely made a ripple on the monitor strip. The OB on call, Dr.
Martini, came in to
examine me and said that I was dilated to 3cm. That was more than a little
disappointing but he
did cheer me up by saying that as soon as June, the midwife, finished
delivering her patient at
the other hospital, he would be switching hospitals with her, so that she
could be in attendance at
my delivery.
In the meantime, I was encouraged to move around to get the
contractions to
strengthen again. I decided to get into the shower. It felt great and the
contractions did pick up a
little, but still weren't anywhere near as strong as they needed to be. After
a while, I got back into
bed because I started feeling shaky and nauseous. My son had watched TV for a
while, but
around 8:30 had curled up with a blanket and pillow and fallen asleep. It's a
good thing, because
watching me get sick into an emesis basin was not a pretty sight. The nurse
told me that this was
an encouraging sign and told me she thought I was probably dilated to around
7 cm.
Shortly after
that, June arrived. I was glad to see her, but when she examined me, I was
shocked to find out
that I was still dilated only to 3 cm. It was now about 10:30 p.m. It was
decided that they would
start an IV and give me Pitocin to get the contractions going and my cervix
dilated. I wasn't
exactly thrilled by this but neither did being in labor and making no
progress. The nurse tried to
get an IV started in my left hand, but failed. Three or four other nurses
came in to take a look at
my veins and all declined to even try. They finally sent in the IV team, who
got it going on the
first attempt. Once that was accomplished, they started the Pitocin and added
some antibiotics,
since it was now over 12 hours since my water had broken. They also
re-attached the fetal
monitor and put an automatic blood pressure cuff on my other arm. This whole
scenario was
very disappointing to me, since I had an intervention-free first delivery and
had hoped to do the
same with this delivery.
The Pitocin kicked in almost immediately and the
contractions became
very regular, about 2 minutes apart and much more painful. When the nurse
said that she would
be able to add some Fentanyl to the IV for pain relief, I gladly consented.
When the Fentanyl
kicked in, I felt drowsy in between the contractions, almost stoned. Things
did move along fairly
rapidly after that, although my recollection becomes much more hazy, due to
the drugs. Around
1 or 1:30 a.m., I asked to have the dilation checked again. Happily, some
real progress had been
made, and I was 6-7 cm. However, I was having a hard time coping with the
contractions at this
point. The pain meds didn't really help at the peak of the contractions, only
with the build-up,
leaving me feeling as though I was waking up to intense pain every couple of
minutes. Denny
was trying to help as best he could, alternately stroking my hair and holding
my hand. I was
really glad that he was there with me. Sometime after 2 a.m., I started
feeling some pressure
during contractions. The nurse went to go get June, who had gone to take a
nap. She came in,
examined me during a contraction, and told me that I could start pushing with
the next
contraction.
I never really felt the urge to push, but I hadn't with my son's
birth, either. It was hard
to remember how to do it, but the effort made me feel more in control of the
pain. June started
doing perineal massage with warm oil and told me that she didn't know what
was going to
happen with my previous tear scars (I had 3rd degree tears with my son's
birth), but that she
would try to minimize any damage. Denny woke up Sean, telling him that the
baby was going to
be born soon. After about 15 minutes of pushing, June suggested setting up
the squat bar to take
advantage of gravity. They lowered the foot of the bed and installed the bar
across. Basically, I
sat on the edge of the upper part of the bed, kept me feet on the lower part
and leaned over
holding on to the bar. After a few more contractions, I could feel the baby's
head moving down in
my vagina. The rectal pressure became really intense. A couple of more
contractions and I could
feel the vagina and vulva area stretching. It wasn't really painful, in the
context of things. As
soon as the baby was fully crowned, they quickly removed the squat bar and
had me lay back on
the bed. June asked me to push really slowly. It was hard because I just
wanted this thing out of
me, but I tried to push in little tiny bursts. All of a sudden, I felt a big
rush, the baby's body slither
out of me and the baby was laying on my chest. It was so amazing! I don't
remember this, but
my husband said I kept repeating "oh my god, look at this baby!" The baby was
facing away from
me so I couldn't see her face at first, just that she was completely red all
over. Her skin was slick
from amniotic fluid and she didn't have a trace of vernix on her. My husband
asked if it was a
boy or a girl, and I immediately chimed in, "What is it, what is it??" The
baby was in a fetal
position and the nurse actually had trouble prying her legs apart, but then
said "oh, it *is* a girl". I
had convinced myself that I was having a boy, but I was happy beyond belief
that the baby was a
girl.
June asked who was going to cut the cord and Sean volunteered. It was a
little
tougher than it looked, because it took him a couple of snips to get through
it. I was lost in
admiration of the baby and barely even felt it when the placenta was
delivered. Probably the
Pitocin made it come out really easily. I do remember hearing June show the
placenta and
amniotic sac to Sean, saying "here's the hole she made to come out". After a
few minutes, the
nurse put the baby under the warming lights, while she trimmed the umbilical
cord and applied
the clamp. June told me that I had torn a little bit and would need some
stitches, but it was only a
first degree tear and wasn't too bad. It took her just a few minutes to get
me stitched up. After the
nurse cleaned the baby up a little bit, she gave her back to me and I nursed
her for the first time.
She latched on right away and seemed to know what she was doing, and hasn't
had any
problems since. I stayed in the hospital for about 36 hours, then went home,
amazed at how
good I felt, compared to my son's birth.
Ferryn is now 8 weeks old and growing like a weed. We feel incredibly blessed
to have her in our
lives.