"Labor" Day

In honor of Labor Day, I decided I'd share my own "labor" story.

Warning: I'm going to keep this as PG as possible, but it is the story of labor/delivery, so consider yourself warned.  This post is actually mostly for my own benefit to look back on, but I know some of you were curious as well...

I woke up around 1:45am to flip from one side to the other.  All of a sudden, I realized my water was breaking.  I rushed to the bathroom and came out afterwards and told Jason.  After a call to my doctor, who said we had some time since I wasn't having any contractions, Jason and I took showers and headed to the hospital.

We checked in around 3am.  By the way, Raleigh traffic at 3am is awesome!  They checked me out in triage and then took us to a delivery room.  Then... we waited.  Nothing really seemed to happen or change.  Around 5am, they hooked me up to an IV for fluids (to counteract low blood pressure if/when I got an epidural) and Pitocin (which helps get the ball rolling when it comes to contractions).  I also got hooked up to a million and a half monitors -- my blood pressure, my heart rate, Lilhimself's heart rate, and contractions.

At 7am, I still wasn't really experiencing any contractions.  In triage, the RN said that while some water had broken, she tested me and determined that not all my water had broken.  My doctor, Dr. Scott, checked me out and thought the same, so they decided to break my water.  Wow, I cannot begin to describe how weird or gross that is.  And I'm not going to try.  So just take my word for it.

That definitely got things started.  I began to feel contractions, which begin as waves of achy pain in my belly and move downward.  I called my sisters to let them know what was going on (Mama and Daddy unfortunately got the 1:45am call because I needed to give them enough notice to get to the hospital in time).  The next few hours weren't pleasant, but quite manageable.

Around noon, the contractions started to get pretty bad.  The RN was concerned because even though I was progressing centimeter-wise, the baby was still quite high up in my belly.  She suggested that I try to stand up and walk around a bit or sit on a yoga ball to let gravity help things out.  You have never seen something so awkward as a pregnant lady in pain hooked up to a million monitors bouncing on a yoga ball.  Just pause for a moment to let that all sink in.

This change in position also REALLY amplified the contractions.  We discovered that the more distracted I was, the better I could manage the pain.  Jason asked me questions during the contractions, from state capitals (he was nice enough not to correct me when I got them wrong) to naming all the fruits I could name to having me recite the periodic table.  It helped, but after about a half hour or hour of this, all I wanted was to get back in my bed.

At this point (maybe 2:00?  I don't know, a lot of details are fuzzy now), I got an epidural.  I had held off so that I could stand and do the ball, but it was time.  I think I was maybe 6cm at this time.  My hat goes off to women out there who give birth naturally, but to me, an epidural is the way to go.  It was practically painless to get (much better than the contractions I was having), and about 20 minutes in, the RN asked me on a scale of 1-10 how much had I felt that last contraction.  My response: "What contraction?"

The epidural also gave me a chance to relax enough to take a couple of short (maybe 10 minute?) naps.  Remember, I had been up since 1:45am and was about to get quite a workout.  I needed some rest.  It also put me in a pretty good mood.  Jill and Jodi had gotten to the hospital when I was at my worst, but post-epidural, I was actually able to visit with them a bit.  Kara had also called during some of the worst, so Jill sent Kara some silly-faced Selfies (self portraits) of the two of us.

Around 4, I was good to go, but we all decided to wait longer.  They assured me the longer I waited, the less time I'd have to push.  My waiting paid off.  I started pushing right around 6:00, and Tyler came into this world at 6:39pm.  Jason was a huge help, holding me up behind my neck and back while I pushed and reminding to relax between contractions.  Mama was there, telling us how well we were doing and being a calming presence.

I kept thinking I wasn't pushing enough.  The nurse told me I was making progress, but part of me didn't believe her.  At several "big pushes," she told me to do little pushes.  Little pushes?  No, I want to do big pushes and get him out!  Little did I know my fella's head was already out and he just needed a bit more encouragement.  And then bloop!  There was my baby!

I had been relatively calm during all the pushing (or at least, I feel like I was), but tears of joy burst from my eyes when I saw my baby boy for the first time.  Honestly, tears are welling up a bit right now as I type about it.

The nurses did their magic (washing him, weighing him, suctioning his nose and mouth... you know, nurse stuff) and kept calling him "Bubba."  I was confused until they told us he was 10lbs 3oz!  Holy cow!  That was inside of me?  No wonder my belly was so huge!

The rest is a bit of a blur.  My doctor, Dr. Littleton, took care of me while the nurses took care of the baby.  Once he was all cleaned up, they handed him to me, I looked at Jason to confirm the name, and then introduced Tyler to his grandma.  This was the first time Mom (or anyone) had heard the name, so she was really excited.

So, yeah.  Other things happened that night, including me eating the world's best ham and cheese sandwich (probably so tasty since I hadn't eaten since dinner the night before) and Tyler and I being checked out at all hours of the night.  But I can't remember all the details.  So for now, this is the story of my "labor" day.