A baby story - the real deal

I wanted to make sure to get this down before the details get too fuzzy. Warning: it's a little graphic.

I had to be induced on my due date because of her getting bigger than the midwives were comfortable with. So we were scheduled to come in the night before to begin the induction process. The night before happened to be Kevin's birthday. We went out to dinner at Bravo for Kevin's birthday and to enjoy our last evening out as non-parents. I felt huge and ready to get this show on the road. Pregnancy is blessedly a slow process so you slowly tack on the extra pounds and your body slowly changes shape, but toward the end, no matter how slowly it happened, you still feel like you are trying to carry a watermelon under your shirt and act normal about it. We got back to the house around 8pm and settled in to wait for the call. The midwives set it up so that we would get called in sometime between 9p and midnight and told to come in when they were ready for us. At 11pm I got antsy and called them - I was terrified they had forgotten about us and that we'd have to wait until the whole next night - and they said to come on in.

We arrived just before midnight, got checked in and taken back to our room. We had previously decided to donate the baby's cord blood so there is this whole series of blood tests they do so they had to take a LOT of blood from me before we did anything else. The nurse who did it wasn't very good at it so things got off to a rocky start. She used the term "Heinz ketchup" to describe how NOT quickly my blood was coming out - which made me gag - and then somehow she managed to get it all over the sheets, my hand, y gown, etc. Ugh!!!

After that small ordeal, Emily, the midwife, came back and checked me out - I was 2cm dilated, about 60% effaced and the baby was at pelvic station -1. So, we decided to try the Cevadil instead of the Cytotec. Cervadil is gentler and takes longer but is safer. They inserted the Cervadil around 2am and we settled in for the night. I was having soem contractions, but they gave me something to help me sleep so I conked out. We slept until about 9am. I got to order some "food" and by that I mean a liquid meal of jello, chicken broth, iced tea and a popcicle. I had another meal of this at about 8 hours later and this is all I ate for the 36 hours of labor. I knew I was going to be hungry during this process but people said I wouldn't care - not true. I cared. At least during the first 24 hours. In the morning, my mom came for a visit. I was having very mild contractions. We had a nice visit as I was still feeling very good and quite chatty. I was optimistic that this would not be nearly as painful as I feared. Around 2pm, Lizzie, our doula, came and we met with Carolyn the midwife - she checked me out and decided to start the Pitocin.

I was wearing a hospital gown and was hooked up to an IV and a heart monitor and a contraction monitor, so I had to get unplugged from the monitors and wrap the wires around my neck and wheel the IV tower to the bathroom and kind of creep along like an old lady and navigate the tubes and such- not fun. Tip to the mamas-to-be: wear a comfy nursing bra if you feel the need to have a little support going on during this whole labor thing if you plan to breastfeed.

My parents came back around 7pm thinking we were going to have a baby that night - but we were making SLOW progress. So we visited for a bit and sent them away and said to come back the next morning when the baby was more likely to emerge. I was having more serious contractions at that point. Lizzie, Kevin and I were all talking and watching tv and even dancing to music on my ipod blaster at one point - hip hop...Black Eyed Peas and OutKast. I also sat on the birth ball a lot and that helped to get through the contractions. Kevin and Lizzie took turns applying pressure to my lower back to help with the pain. It really wasn't bad at this point but they kept increasing the pitocin drip.

Around 11pm, they really began to ramp up. By midnight, it was really, truly awful. I was in a very significant amount of pain. I could not speak and I was very grouchy. After a little while, I started yelling during contractions. I did not expect to do that. It took me by surprise that 1. the pain was actually that bad and 2. that I would feel compelled to yell. Sometime around 1am, I asked for some drugs - Carolyn okayed Stadol, a narcotic administered through the IV. In it went and I was immediately HIGH AS A KITE. It was great. For about 40 minutes, I was silly and mellow and didn't care about contractions. But then it wore off. And it was worse than before. I had to wait another hour to get another dose and when they gave it to me it did absolutely nothing.

So it was a little before 3am at this point. I endured the hellish pitocin-induced contractions for about another 2 hours - exhausting not only myself but my husband - we never would have made it without Lizzie...she was super helpful - so, around 5am, after hours of screaming obscenities and all sorts of crazy cominations like "oh no, oh no, ow ow ow ow ow, oh no no no no no!" (Man that must be distrubing to listen to all day/night for those nurses!!) I finally said "uncle" and asked for the epidural.

It hurt going in, like a weird, pinchy, stinging feeling, and it was kind of scary how surgical and medical it all was - but the anethesiologist was very skilled and it began working almost immediately. We were all able to get some sleep at that point. We slept until almost 8am. Then....my water broke! I had forgotten all about that happening - meaning I wasn't waiting for it or anything so it totallyshocked me. What a strange feeling. Like a very thick, full water balloon - there was an actual popping sound that kind of amazed me. Thank God that didn't happen in the grocery store or all the places you picture it happening. What a mess that would have been.

Around 9am, Tina, the midwife who was at that point on shift and my official favorite midwife (thank you, Lord - those who have been following the story closely know that there was one midwife I was hoping to avoid all contact with) came in and said I was 10cm and ready to push. She suggested I "labor down" for one hour, just kinda let the little one settle on into the birth canal. So we did. Epidural had started to wear off but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been hours before.

At 10am we started pushing. Kevin and Lizzie had front row seats and my mom had returned so I decided she could hang out and be present as well. Honestly, at that point, for me, it is completely true that you lose your inhibitions and do not care about what happens - what comes out of your body, what noises it makes and who is looking at your hoo-ha. I am very serious when I tell you that if the local high school marchign band wanted to come through during the pushing, I could not possibly have cared less.

It takes a few contractions to really "learn" how to push correctly. From the feedback I was getting, you woudl have thought I could be a professional pusher but somehow it still took 2.5 hours to get this kiddo out and into the world. It hurt really really really bad. The pushing, I was told would be the "easy" part - maybe because I'd had the epi at that point, it's all kind of relative, but I am telling you, that was some serious pain. I almost couldn't even enjoy the idea of my baby girl being born because I was so happy when that little head and then the shoulders came out...I just wanted to jump up and scream "IT IS FINALLY OVER!!!!!! THAT SUCKED SOOOO BAD!!" Everyone else was tearing up with joy over the beauty of this little life beginning and I was just sooooo happy to be done hurting. I guess that is what happens when you are in labor for 36 hours with a powerful drug to move your labor along - I don't recommend doing that if you have the option, by the way - it was medically neccessary. I had really hoped to have some "I am woman, hear me roar" kind of experience, but honestly, my main feelings during the whole thing were variations of agony and relief. Never did empowerment or even excitement enter the picture for me. Mostly just "holy crap, please let it be over soon." I blame the pitocin. I did get to watch everything via this overhead mirror in the ceiling - it was a really strange thing to watch but pretty cool.

Cassidy was born with low blood sugar so she needed formula right away. This was unfortunate because it kind of messed with my breastfeeding plans. Also, about 2 hours after she was born, I had some serious, serious hemoraging. My blood pressure plummeted, my lips turned blue, I vomitted and passed out and Kevin thought I was going to die. I was given very powerful painkillers and then a doctor scooped out my insides like a pumpkin on Halloween - which I got to see because that mirror thing was still up there - ugh. Will never forget that image. I was high from the narcotic but what went through my mind as I watched Kevin holding Cassidy with this really scared look on his face was "How tragic!! Died in childbirth and barely even got to hold the baby!" I was really glad when the situation began to improve and I didn't have to entertain that horrible thought any longer.

Once I was stabilized and we were all able to relax and know I wasn't actually going to die, we had a really nice stay in the hospital. Recovery from birth is one of those situations that kind of takes a village. There is the lady who changes your blood-soaked sheets, the person who brings the Percocet - LOVED her, the person who you call to order your food, the person who shows you how to urinate in the least painful way possible, the person who comes in and pushes on your saggy belly to make sure you aren't still hemoraging. Then there is the crew who makes sure baby is ok. There is the pediatrician, the evil lactation consultant, the nursery ladies who loved Cassidy's first outfit (the KISS onesie) then there is the nurse who shows you how to bathe her and the list goes on. I loved being in the hospital and having so much help. But seriously someone came in to poke or prod me or the baby every 10 minutes. I was really bruised from all of the blood samples, and I was also reallly really sick of that heparin lock IV thing that I had to keep in the entire time.

The losing of the inhibitions thing seems to last a few days, and here is how I know that. The day we were discharged, after two full days of showing my goods to whoever wanted to see and probably some who didn't especially want to, I was standing at the sink with the door to the bathroom open. Someone knocked and it was Jacob, 20-year old nursing student who had been taking care of us along with his teacher for the past two days. I say "Come on in" and proceed to have a 5 minute conversation before it occurs to me that I am wearing a tank top and MESH hospital-issues underpants. That's it. I had a conversation with a 20 year old man in my underwear and it took me FIVE MINUTES to care!!!!

So, that's my story, for better or worse, that's what it is. Because of the issues shared above, I am pumping and giving her 1/2 breastmilk and 1/2 formula with each feeding. She got too lazy with the bottles she was given while I was out of commission to have the motivation to "latch on" properly, and I didn't get any help from the lactation department until days later and when I did, they were rude and mean and not especially helpful - I probably could still have gotten the breastfeeding thing to work, but at that point, I was so overwhelmed by everything else about being a mom, I just could not purposely engage in a long process that involved my new daughter screaming in my face and scratching me any more than she already does. I really give my thumbs up to those who had challenges and worked to establish breastfeeding anyway - it is no easy task and you should be commended. Just don't be a jerk and judge those of us who went another path - parenting is hard enough without people shaking their heads disapprovingly.

I will tell you the best thing so far about having this child. My husband has never been happier, and it is the sweetest thing I have ever seen in my life. When I am hormonal and grumpy and overwhelmed, watching the two of them just melts my heart and makes me know for sure that everything we've gone through in the past 13 days is totally worth it.

Little Miss Grumples