This day last year:
I was up early, 5:30 am. Not a lot of sleep the night before, strong contractions that felt like someone was stabbing me in the abdomen, nurse checks every hour or two, a little relief here or there with pain meds. The doc was there at 6 am to administer some stronger drugs for my cervix again, to see if it would help at all. I hadn't progressed very much, maybe effaced just a tiny bit, no more dilation, and the contractions were still very sporadic.
I hadn't eaten since yesterday mid morning since I missed the cut off for dinner (jerks never called me back to take my order), so I had some breakfast. My wonderful older sister came went on a run to Caribou for me (I was in labor, I was exhausted, I needed some damn coffee!) Six more hours of waiting. We watched tv, chatted, I had many unexpected visitors (which was a little awkward considering how many times the nurses had to check my 'progress'), and basically I was just trying to bide my time until noon came since the meds had to stay in there for 6 hours. Finally the time came.
I had dilated to 3 1/2, maybe 4 whole cm's! That's sarcasm. After almost two days of labor I was expecting a whole lot more of my body. I was started to get frustrated. The doc then decided it was time to break my water. At that moment I wanted to stop everything, ha ha. I was freaking out! I'm not ready! Let's wait some more! So they broke my water. It was disgusting. A huge gush of liquid, sort of like peeing your pants if your bladder could hold, oh I don't know, a liter of thick nasty water. Then they changed my puppy pad (when you're in labor they put under you this disposable pad with a thin plastic bottom to keep your sheets clean of all the grossness that occurs whilst pushing out a tiny person.) Okay, that part is done, I'm preparing myself for the quickened labor, the stronger more frequent contractions.
Everyone says that once your water is broken it all goes very quickly. They asked me if I wanted an epidural, and I said that I eventually did, but I wanted to wait as long as I could. They usually don't administer epi's until you are at least 4 cm dilated anyway. So I waited. And waited more. Slight contractions, but nothing nearly unbearable, and as always, sporadic. I got up to go to the bathroom and leaked a nice trail of amniotic fluid the entire way there and back. Talk about leaving a trail, eh?
At about 5 or 6 that evening, after checking me, I hadn't changed at all. No more dilation, no effacing, my body and my baby were refusing to cooperate. The anesthetician was not busy at the moment, and they highly recommended me getting the epidural now since he was available, so I agreed. There had also been the talk of a c-section (not what I wanted to hear) so really this was the best course of action 'in case'. The epidural sucked. They had to do mine at least two times. And it wasn't really the epidural so much as the lidocaine they put in you first, that felt like razor blades being pulled down my spine. So finally, epidural in, catheter in, I had no choice but to lay back, try to relax, and focus on bringing my baby into the world.
The doc came in around 7:30. I was to have a c-section he told me. NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! The possibility had been discussed before in my later appointments with my doc, and after 48 hours of labor with no progress, they needed to get Eli out of there safely. I understood this, but I had gone through so much to try to have him normally, I needed that experience, I was upset. My c-section was set up for 9 that night, in an hour and a half I was to become a mom. Not in the way I intended, but my baby would be safe and sound in my arms (eventually.)
They prepped me for the surgery (I had never had any surgery before this, in fact I've been incredibly healthy my entire life. can we say scared crapless?), gave me my cute little cap (seen below in one of the posts, that's me getting ready to be wheeled into the O.R.), upped my epidural so I had no feeling, and explained what was going to happen.
This is not what I had planned. I was supposed to get induced and with much screaming and pooping on the table my baby was going to squish out of me and start screaming because of what he just endured. He wasn't supposed to be cut out of my stomach (though it was probably less traumatic for him.)
It was time. I was wheeled down to the OR. When we got there they had to move me to the operating table. I, of course, couldn't move any of my lower body because of the epidural so they moved the entire sheet over (jeez, just thinking about them having to life all 245 lbs of my super pregnant disgusting self makes me cringe) and then pulled it out from under me. I remember it was very cold in there and one of my legs kept falling off the table because I was a little lopsided on the table. I couldn't stop laughing because I felt RIDICULOUS! I mean, there I am, in all my sweaty disgusting numb glory, legs all over, arms being strapped out straight to my sides (like a cross) and shaking SO HARD. I asked one of the techs if this was normal (I seriously looked like I was doing it on purpose, my hands wouldn't stop flopping around) and they said that it was, it was the epidural in my system, and that was okay. They put the sheet up, and put some nice warm air blowing on my upper body. Oh, God, it felt good. They asked me to tell them if I felt anything. I said, I feel pressure, but no pain. From what Aron told me (he got to watch) they were actually cutting me open at that point, glad I didn't feel anything, ha ha. I felt lots of tugging and pulling. Almost like when your legs falls asleep without you noticing, but when you can touch it you still feel the pressure, just not the actual tough. They had to push down on my stomach to get Eli low enough that they could even grab him and pull him out. I remember the feeling of when they finally got him out of me, one huge tug and then I felt lighter.
(This next part I have some memory of, and some of it I've had to piece together from different people's accounts.) I didn't hear him cry at first, it scared the crap out of me. And then one big wail, and that was about it. They started working on putting me back together and Aron went over to look at the baby. They got him wiped up and brought him over to see me. I couldn't do much more than just look at him and smile, and give him a tiny kiss (I was still strapped down at this point) and have some little tears of happieness, but I'll never forget seeing him for the first time. He was (and still is) perfect.
They told me that they were going to give me something to calm me down, just a mild sedative. I asked if they were going to put me out and they said no, the sedative is just to calm me down and help me relax. They put it in my iv and I did get slightly drowsy, but that was it. They told me that they had started to stitch me up, so I was just waiting until I got to hold my baby. That is the last thing I remember. (They later told me that when they were stitching me up my epi had worn off and I could feel it all, so they put me out. When that happened my heartrate plummeted and they had to shoot me up with epinephrine.)
I woke up on the way to the recovery room, and I think I told them that they weren't supposed to put me out. I was in excruciating pain, I didn't know what was going on, everything was very dim, including the room I was placed in. Once I was in the recovery room I remember asking them (pretty vehemently) if I could have something for the pain, because I can feel everything. They gave me a couple of shots of morphine, and I waiting for sweet relief. Instead I start to burn. My flesh felt like it was melting off, and the pain was so intense that it was all I could do to squeak out that it was not good. Eventually they hooked me back up to the epi maching and I finally got some relief. I was exhausted, and I wanted my baby. Once I was feeling a little better Aron came in with my baby, and I held him, and started nursing him. It was so natural, I was in love. My mom and my niece came in, my niece held my hand and stroked my arm and told me that I would feel better soon, but that she had to see me and the baby before she went home (she was 8, such a sweet girl). I said goodbye to them, and just stared at my beautiful baby.
Eventually I got wheeled back to my room. They hooked me up again to the epi pump so I could get some rest, which I was very thankful for. The nurses were awesome, they helped me out so much with Eli, brought him to me when he needed to be fed, changed him for me, rocked him, all the things I couldn't do while I was confined to the bed. He was finally here, we had our baby.
This time this year:
Today is Eli's first birthday and I just can't believe it. Such a big boy. Walking (trying to run), laughing, playing with the animals, trying to talk. Just the sweetest little guy a mom could ever want.
Pictures of the birthday boy this morning: