Carter's Journey Into the World

Now that Carter is home, life is settling down, and I've almost dealt with the fact that I did in fact go through the whole process, I figure I'll write down his birth story. I'll try and leave out the TMI parts, but just beware that child birth of any sort is pretty obviously a whole adventure in TMI, so consider yourself warned. I also apologize in advance for the length!

It all started on Saturday night around 8:30pm. We were ready to watch a movie when I leaned forward to grab my drink and felt a distinct pop. Part of me just knew it was my water, but of course I was in denial. Until I stood up to go check and had it confirmed for me.

My first instinct was to panic, but knowing that this would get me nowhere, I pulled myself together and told Brian that I was 95% sure my water had broken and I was going to call the doctor. Now, we were both aware from childbirth classes that once your water breaks, the baby needs to be born within 24 hours because of the risk of infection. So we knew that this was it. Anyway, Brian very calmly says "Do you think I have time for a shower?" (really??) While he showered I tried to maintain my fake-calm state of mine and rfrantically packed the hospital bag I knew I should have packed weeks ago. We arrived at St. Joes around 9:30 and were admitted quickly upon confirmation that my water had indeed broken. It was surreal, we were brought to our room and told to make ourselves at home. I was having contractions, but some I couldn't feel and some were so mild that I barely noticed. I should also say that of course the doctor that was on call that night was the one I'd seen months ago and hated... remember that post?

We carried on like this until about 8am, when the nurse came in and told me that because my contractions weren't getting stronger fast enough, they were going to start administering Pitocin through my IV. This was (is) one of my biggest fears... I've heard countless horror stories of Pitocin and how unbearable it makes the whole process. After a shower and a good, long, LONG cry, I submitted myself to the drug. Contractions definitely began to increase then, and by 11:00 am or so, I was starting to seriously doubt my ability to get through this without medication. For the most part we walked around, changed positions and used all the equipment we could find to lesen the pain. But, every hour, the nurse had me lie in bed on my back in order to monitor the baby's heartrate and my contractions. This hurt like a b*tch... and was truly the most unbearable part. Finally around 10:30 I caved and asked for IV pain killers. They administered Nubain, which didn't do much but make me feel drunk and in pain (which was actually kind of nice for a few minutes.)

Finally, aound 11 the anesthesiologist came with the Epidural. I felt bad at first for caving, but honestly the epi was the best thing I ever did. I was dilated about 5 centimeters when I got it, and shot to 9 within a couple of hours. Several additional hours later, I reached 10 centimeters and the doctor said just to notify him when I stated to feel the urge to push. Well, I never got this urge. Around 5:30, and after a ridiculously long drama struggling to put in a catheter they wanted me to start trying, regardless. So I pushed. And pushed and pushed and pushed for 45 minutes, which actually felt like much less time. I was afraid that I wouldn't be doing it correctly, and consequentially they would need to turn down my epidural, but apparently I was doing it very well. However, Carter was too big for me, and had no desire to move much further. After that 45 minutes, my cocky doctor came back in and dropped the bombshell that I'd need a C-Section. Insert another LONG bout of crying here as the whirlwind started and I lost all control over my experience.

The C-section was my ultimate fear. I had a quick 5 minutes to process what was going to happen, and then I was being wheeled down the hallway, without Brian, to the OR. It was cold, bright, and there were what seemed like 100 people all running around getting me ready. They of course strapped my arms down right as my nose started to itch, and I remember begging the anesthesiologist to scratch it for me. I then remember Brian coming in and saying hi, but being whisked away so the procedure could start. I have never in my life used so many of the relaxation techniques I've learned at once. I sent myself to another location in my mind, I used yoga breathing, I tensed and relaxed my arm muscles one by one to relax my body... it must have worked, because before I knew it, the doctor held up my baby and said "Congratulations-- it's your baby!! What's the name?" I deferred this decision to Brian, and shortly after, he was at my side holding Carter and crying with me. I felt bad crying, thinking my abdomen was probably bouncing all over as they tried to sew me back together. The C-section wasn't as bad as I though-- lots of pressure and icky feelings, but no pain and no real sensation from my chest down. Really, the worst part was coming out of the epidural-- my jaw and arms were trembling so bad and so uncontrollably that they had to give me yet another medication to calm it down. My arm and jaw muscles were actually sore from trying to hold still; it was terrible.

After that my recovery was pretty textbook, and probably not worth writing another lengthy paragraph about. I had an epidural for most of the following day to help with the incision pain coupled with what pain was left from pushing. It's felt like a long road, starting with just getting out of bed and standing with the incision pain, but now I'm nearly back to normal and just trying to remember to take things slow.

Would I go through this all again? I think at this point I'm still dealing with the trauma of it all. It was a wonderful experience, but not a fun one, and I don't think I've fully dealt with what I went through. But yes, I know eventually I'll get to a point where I know I'd do it again, and I probably will.