So in went the Cervidil.... (That hurt) and out went the lights. As if I could sleep. My mom was with me, my father stopped up and both of my sister's were there. Eventually, everyone but my mother left to go home and get some sleep before all the action began. I finally tried to sleep as well and must have fallen off, expecting to wake up a few times during the night before the 10 a.m. check.
But then 1 a.m. happened. My mom was sleeping in a chair in the room and I woke up uncomfortable. I was having some contractions (I guessed that's what they were) and so I woke her to tell her. She said "ok, try to sleep for a bit more" and went back to sleep. Great. The nurse checked me at 1 a.m. and said my cervix was completely thinned and I was contracting. Good news: she could remove the Cervidil. Bad news: that frigging hurt. Big time. She was literally in there digging around for it, saying things like, "I can feel it. I just can't...quite...get it." She said "sorry" a lot. I wanted to kick her in the face. Meanwhile, I am contracting through all of this removal. I swear the Cervidil was the size of a baby - it must have been. She hurt me. She was super nice, but she hurt me.
From 1 a.m. until about 4 a.m., I kept having contractions and they were becoming increasingly uncomfortable. I was doing the breathing I learned in my birthing class but my contractions weren't following the rules as nicely. They are supposed to come every few minutes with a break in between. Contraction comes - you breathe - contraction ends - all is wonderful and you prepare for the next cycle. But not so much. I would have a contraction, breathe through it, it would go down and then - immediately - another one would start. Sometimes it was two back-to-back, sometimes three. But it threw me off my game! How could I breathe, telling myself I'd get a break in just one minute, when I wasn't getting the damned break?! Damn rule-breaking contractions. At some point before 6 a.m. I was checked again (that hurts) and was at 3 cm. Progress. Good. I think.
At about 6 a.m. the labor and delivery nurse that I knew (Carolyn) came in and took over. She said, "I'm just going to check you." But that meant I had to move. So I said no. She said she had to. I said no. Her and my mom bullied me into trying. I got into position and then had a contractions. Carolyn said (watching the monitor), "It's coming down, Elizabeth and as soon as it ends, I am going to check." I informed her that no - she was not going to because another one was going to come right away. I knew it. She tried, I refused. Sorry, Carolyn, nothing personal but when I was having contractions, I was actively trying not to die and that takes all my concentration. I can't also worry about cooperating with you. My negotiations was, "If you give me Demerol, then you can check me." She agreed and gave it to me intravenously. (Mind you, I went into labor saying I did not want any pain meds, besides the epidural. However, a woman has a right to change her mind!)
The Demerol helped in the sense that I then had an out-of-body experience. Don't laugh - it really happened. One minute, I was still actively trying not to die. The next minute, I snapped back into reality and felt the pain. But time had passed in between there and I knew it was "painless" time so the moment I came back, I was all, "Ugh - I want to go back to wherever the hell I just was!!"
Well, turns out, when I was finally drugged up enough to allow Carolyn to check me, I was very far along. She didn't tell me the number but I think that was because it probably would have been past the point of getting me the epidural I had been asking for since I hit 30 weeks in my pregnancy and so she may have fudged my progress to the anesthesiologist. I love Carolyn. Then, it was all a rush. A frantic call to the anesthesiologist, everyone looking for the doctor - I knew things were happening around me. But I was in my own world, trying to breathe, trying not to die, trying to listen to what Carolyn said because I knew enough to know that I was no longer in control. She talked me through the epidural. That was one of the things I was most frightened of while being pregnant - getting the epi. But I tell you my lips to God's ears, if the doctor would have told me it had to be inserted into my retina, I would have held my eye open for him. I was in so much pain that it didn't faze me in the least. I laid back down, telling Carolyn that my body was pushing (I wasn't. My body was.) and waited for the sweet relief that is supposed to be an epidural.
Never came. I immediately started pushing. I told Carolyn that I still felt pain - a lot of it. I explained the triangle-of-hell on my lower left side right by my pelvis; I felt every contraction there. Every one. She explained that they "missed a spot" with the epi but they did not have time to re-do it as I was already pushing. Great. Just great. Who the EFF "misses a spot" with something so important? Seriously - remind me to thank him later.
I then pushed for about three hours. Or that's what they all tell me at least. I remember every contraction, every "take a breath in and PUSH, Elizabeth," every wave of nausea - but I had no sense of time. None. I used to hear stories of women who were in labor for 9 hours, or 12 or 24. But time wasn't really the issue for me - I didn't feel time. I felt the intense damn contractions and then the overwhelming NEED to push. It's a need, not a want. They told me "the head is right there" for what felt like 6 hours. Then they said, "the head is coming" for another 2. My mom and my sister took turns holding my hand or my leg or my whatever and watching "the show" down below. At that point, I didn't care who was in the room or what they saw. I was trying to not die - that takes up pretty much all of your concentration.
Finally, I felt the head. Or what I actually felt was a watermelon trapped inside my damned vagina, which would NOT just open and cooperate. I felt Carolyn "helping" my vagina, but to no avail. The watermelon was stuck. As it so happens, the watermelon was also on fire because it was BURNING down there. Burning. I asked how much longer and the doctor said, "that's really up to you." I took that as a challenge. I wanted that damned burning watermelon OUT. So I pushed like I no longer cared - didn't care if I pooped (also something I thought I would care about. Turns out? Not my problem in that moment), didn't care if I vomited (I didn't), didn't care if I passed out, I honestly didn't care if I died. As long as I beat the watermelon first. So I pushed and pushed and finally....I felt it. I also heard it. (They don't tell you that part anywhere - birth has sounds. They do not need to be described. I will let you discover your own sounds when you give birth.) I won. The watermelon broke through. The fire was out. I then felt (and heard!) a slimy alien being quickly slipped out - once the head is out, I will deliver a baby any day, by the way. So if you can get that far, I will gladly take over. Cake.
My sister said, "They don't know what the baby is..." because, of course, the gender was a surprise. And here was my favorite part: My mother was standing to my left and I knew it was a girl by the look on her face. All I had to do was watch her watch the baby. Then she made eye contact with me and her face was the definition of "lit up." I started crying right away. "It's a girl...?" I asked, but I already knew. She mouthed, "it's a GIRL!" I could have died in that moment and been happy. I swear. It sounds so ridiculous, but after all of that - all of the pain and the work and the sweat and the sounds and the energy - and you did it? You actually did it? I could have died.
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| I actually look like I labored. Not like some obnoxious people (my sister, my cousin). But this was our first kiss! |
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| My sister holding my lil Aunt Jemima moments after I pushed her out. |
Love,
Momma and Juliette
XOXO
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