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Sixty-two Hours
I was a week overdue. My doctor scheduled my induction.

Day 1: We arrived at the hospital and the monitors showed that I was having contractions but couldn't feel them. The nurse said, "They're pretty good size." I couldn't feel anything so I looked at my husband like, "There's nothing to this!" Then the nurse explained that they don't hurt until they are working (making you dilate ? I was still at 0 centimeters dilated).

I got my first dose of Cytotec. Nothing happened. I got an IV in my left hand for medication later if I needed them. I got my second dose that afternoon. Nothing happened. I had a third dose that night with a plan to start Pitocin the next day. Nothing happened except getting evacuated into the hallway twice for tornadoes!

Day 2: That morning I got Pitocin, with all the warnings about how hard labor could get, blah, blah, blah. I was like, "Yeah, how hard could it be."

Ha! It's all coming back to me as I type this. Within half an hour I was slammed with contractions that were only a fraction of the size of my earlier contractions, according to the monitor, but they just felt like my body was being ripped in two. I sat in a rocker, got in the whirlpool, I leaned over the bed, I collapsed into my husband. Nothing brought relief.

I couldn't go to the bathroom without summoning a nurse to get all my wires unhooked. I threw up so many times. It was awful. My mom, nurse and husband could not keep the puke buckets ready ? I went through them too fast. The contractions and the dry heaving shook my body with more force than anything I'd ever experienced.

That afternoon, a nurse came in. The pharmacist said the Pitocin was not compatible with my Strep B IV so they had to start another IV in my other hand, which took three different nurses a total of eight pokes with the needle to get seated. (Keep in mind I'm vomiting and contracting this whole time.)

After eight hours my doctor checked me and I had not dilated at all. I was so disappointed! I couldn't believe I had gone through that pain for nothing! My doctor stopped the Pitocin and congratulated me. What for? "I've never seen anyone on Pitocin for eight hours with no epidural." What?! Thanks for telling me that BEFOREhand! I hadn't known I had an option!

Strangely enough, even with the Pitocin turned off, I kept contracting all evening. It was unbearable pain. I was throwing up so much and barely able to control myself so my doctor recommended we stay another night. My husband could not have handled me in that state at home.

They gave me something for pain ? I can't remember what ? and I was promptly babbling to my husband about being on Jeopardy. I didn't sleep for long. I was wracked with contractions again within the hour. I was allowed another dose of medication but the rest of the night I spent paging the nurses to keep checking me because I was sure these contractions had started to dilate me!

Well, I was kind of right ? TA-DA! I was upgraded to a "fingertip." Whoopty-doo. Thanks for nothing!

Day 3: I was at my wit's end, as was my family. My doctor came in and we all jumped her ? demanding this baby be taken. They couldn't stand to see me in so much pain with no payoff, and at this point I could have cared less whether I had a baby or not.

My doctor calmed us down and said we'd talk after she checked me. Amazingly, I was at 3 centimeters! I had finally progressed! After that I had my energy back and was ready for the baby.

Until the nurse came in and said I needed an enema. I had been in the hospital for three days with no bowel movement. Great. Not that I wanted to poop on the delivery table, but I wasn't excited about this news either.

Pitocin was started again and I'll never forget how unpleasant it was to be contracting while receiving an enema. When I was finally allowed to go to the bathroom, I had a contraction. Then I started puking again.

I must have been flailing around because somehow my emergency call button was pushed and three nurses ran in and left the door open, giving my parents and husband a nice shot of me moaning on the toilet and puking into the sanitary napkin disposal. How nice.

Shortly after that episode, I was checked again and was at 5 centimeters! Epidural, here I come! After that I just remember the excitement building. The contractions were fun and time flew by. I was happy and alert.

Then suddenly I felt like I was going to poop my pants. I was ready to push! I was so confident and energized! The doctor set up the table, everyone got into position and I started to push. The lights were so bright. It quickly got hot and uncomfortable and I was feeling no reward for the effort at all.

Then my baby's heart rate began to slow and I had to have oxygen. I've never felt so claustrophobic. The doctor could see the baby's head but it just wasn't moving. My doctor thought she was sunny-side up.

We went on this way for three hours. Then it was shift change and another nurse came over and had me get on my hands and knees to rock and try to turn the baby. I could barely move with what felt like a watermelon lodged up my butt.

By this time the epidural was waning too. I was on all fours pushing and grunting and all of a sudden I looked around and no one was even standing there with me! The doctor had left, my nurse was gone, my husband was out in the hallway but there were like 10 people in scrubs working frantically around me, seemingly oblivious to anything I was doing. I was like, "What the hell am I working so hard for?" I really wanted to die. I felt alone and like no one cared and this baby was never going to move from the excruciating spot it was in.

Finally my doctor approached me and said, "Heather, I think it's time we considered a Cesarean section." I was crying hysterically and all I could mutter was, "Please. Soon."

The flurry of activity began again. I remember getting onto a cold metal table ? the absolute cruelest thing to do to a contracting pregnant woman. I think they shaved me and got my husband ready for everything ? I don't even know. I just remember staring at the overhead lights through my tears and praying. Something was wrong and we could all feel it but no one knew what. My mom was crying. My husband was eerily quiet.

I was wheeled into the OR. It seems like a sitcom to me now: the surgeon telling jokes, everyone just chatting about school plays and kids' basketball games. I remember thinking, "Hello?! Am I invisible?"

The surgeon poked me with the scalpel and I jumped. I could still feel it. The anesthesiologist upped my dose and then the first dose kicked in too. I couldn't breathe. I spent the birth of my baby struggling to suck in oxygen through another suffocating mask.

I faintly remember hearing a surreal, adorable squeaky cry and the pediatrician greeting her with, "Well hello, bright eyes!" My husband and I cried. She was so gorgeous. They were both whisked away to get cleaned up and meet the family while I went to recovery.

It was a couple of hours before I met my daughter. I was so tired and in a ton of pain. The nurses helped me start nursing and I felt the strongest bond there is. I'm glad she got to spend a few hours with her daddy, though, before I entered the picture. She knew his voice as her No. 1 comfort and would follow it from birth and I think that's why they are so close now.

She has been holding her head up since birth and we found out that she was doing this trick before being born. She had her neck craned in the birth canal, preventing her from moving along. She also had the cord around her neck and was sunny-side up, as the doctor had suspected.

Everyone said, "You'll forget the pain as soon as you see your baby." Not true for me! I love her dearly, though, and will never forget the experience.


(courtesy of Birthstories.com)







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