Friday, November 12th, 2010
A couple weeks ago I had decided that the 12th would be my last day of work. I was a couple days shy of being 41 weeks pregnant and was tired both physically and emotionally.
If one more person said, "when are you gonna have that baby?"
I was going to go medieval.
Back to the story.
Around 3 pm, I was standing by my desk and I felt something oozing, yes oozing. I quickly clenched and said to myself, "Not here. Not here. Mother Mary, please not here."
I quickly debriefed my coworkers on pending work and got out of there.
I was having contractions every 10 minutes or so by the time I got back to our apartment. Justin was in court that afternoon. So, I sent him a text, attempting to be calm and collected, that said, "Call when you get done with court."
Right after I sent the text I took the trash downstairs and didn't bring my phone (opps). Justin of course immediately calls all our phones to no response. Insert Justin "I can't believe you" face here.
That night I continued to have contractions every 10 minutes or so.
Saturday, November 13th, 2010
Justin was on the phone with someone Saturday morning and they asked him what we were doing today. He responded, "trying to have a baby."
We spent the day staying busy. We walked to Notre Dame and back, watched movies, and attempted to nap.
By the evening the contractions started to pick up in intensity and length. By 8 pm I was contracting every 5 minutes. We decided not to go to the hospital until I was contracting every 3 minutes.
We finally arrived at the hospital around 9:30 pm.
To get to the magical Birthing Suite you have to prove you are in labor. Yes, prove you are in labor. So, they take us to a small triage room, hook me up to monitors, and tell me to lay down. Of course, this slows down my contractions.
The other variable at this point was if my water had broken. We kept attempting to get fluid samples to assess whether it had or not. We, of course, had no luck. If it was broken we would need to be admitted because after 24 hours the risk of infection heightens.
About 2 hours after arriving the doctor finally comes in to check me (my contractions are back up to every 10 minutes). He checks me and says 3-4 cm. Oh and then to verify, solidify, confirm the water breaking situation he does a Sterile Speculum Exam. This entails inserting a speculum with no lubrication. Yes, just stick it in. Needless to say, the women reading this can attest to the horror of such an exam and curse the man that invented it. (yes I'm bitter)
My water had not broken. So my midwife, via phone, gives us the option to be admitted and perhaps start some pitocin or to go home and labor. I look at Justin and say what are we doing? He says, we are going home.
Sunday, November 14th, 2010
We finally got home at 1:30 am. My mom had arrived earlier that night. We all attempted to sleep.
When we woke up we went to Breakfast at Le Peep, Mom and I walked to the university and back, and then we went out to eat at Bonefish Grill aka mission keep distracted. By this point my contractions are every 5-7 minutes apart.
Thus far my primary method of dealing with pain had been taking showers and baths. Also, I took a more Buddhist philosophy: breath, accept the pain, acknowledge and ride the wave, breath. Sunday night I took 6 showers, in the fetal position, saying, I can do this, I can do this.
Monday morning, I looked at Justin and said I can't do this anymore. Luckily, I had a weekly exam scheduled with my midwife that morning. We went to the appointment and wait for an hour to see her. The whole time I am walking the halls of the office (Sitting through contraction is hell on earth to me). After an hour I go up to the receptionist and say, "Any word on when they can see me? My appointment was at 9 am. I am having contractions every 5 minutes."
She says, "I just have you for a 10 am ultrasound."
I say, "check again, I have a 9 am appointment. THEN, a 10 am ultrasound."
She says, "ohhhh."
My nurse overhears, looks horrified, and quickly ushers us in.
They check me and I am, drum roll please, 3-4 cm. However, good news my water broke that morning and I am 100% effaced. They admit me right to the birthing suite. Thank goodness.
Once we are settled in, the nurse explains the situation. They know I've been laboring for 3 days and haven't slept. They would like to start pitocin, give me narcotics to sleep, and an epidural. I say, lets give it some time and go from there.
An hour later they check me. Still 3-4 cm. I'm flabbergasted, consult with my Mom, Justin, my wonderful midwife Aunt Pat and decide to start pitocin and get this thing kick started.
I lasted 2 hours with pitocin contractions. The contraction the sealed my fate, I simultaneously almost threw up and my water broke more. The peaks of these contractions were not even on the monitor scale. You could just see the rise and fall of the contraction. I realized A) I didn't know how much longer I would or could endure these and B) I still had to deliver a child. I looked at Justin and said, get the nurse and get the epidural.
About an hour later my midwife comes in to check me. You guessed it still 3-4 cm. While checking me she asks, if I have scar tissue on my cervix for any reason?
The grand epiphany and reason why for the long labor- I do have scar tissue from a leep performed in 06'.
She then breaks up the scar tissue. I instantly go from 3 to 5 cm. Within 2 hours I am 10 cm and ready to push.
Quinn is born at 10:02 PM on November 15th, 7lbs 9oz, 20 1/4 inches long.
While our story is a long one. One with peaks and valleys. In retrospect its so like the life I've experienced. I can plan and study for what I want. However, in the end, life always throws the unexpected in.
Post Epidural Haze
We finally meet her.
Justin's baby picture and Miss Quinn
