Everyone and their mother kept telling me he was coming early,
but I didn't think so, I thought just on time, or a little late...maybe 1-2
days late. Bernie (our midwife) told me that my cervix was high--not effaced,
not dilated...nothing was happening.
So I kept living life. Finn and I went to the zoo on Monday, and
to the aquarium with Gma and Addy on Tuesday July 2nd. We came home, Finn took
a nap, and I cleaned the entire house. I felt great. Randy was freaking out that I kept driving to
the city, but I just “knew” it would still be a while. We were supposed to have a few people over
for the parade the next day. However, Crosby had a different plan--he's been
surprising me from the beginning.
At 11:45 pm on July 2 I woke up, went to the bathroom, and laid
back down. Within a few minutes, a giant gush of water happened. Like the one
you see in the movies. I was dripping and leaking all over the place. It was
weird...and kind of gross. I got up, started hyperventilating because "it's
too early" and told randy, and then called Louise and Bernie. They both
assured me that since I wasn't having contractions, I could lie back down and
try to sleep. I got into the shower, while Randy ran around packing a bag, and
calling my parents. I couldn't stop shaking from nervousness and serious
adrenaline. Randy called my parents, and we all decided that since we didn't
know what time labor would start, we would bring him over there now, I think
everyone assumed that labor would begin now, and I’d have this baby the next
day.
It was super emotional for me to watch Finn leave. He was
crying, and he screamed "mama" as Randy put him into the car. All I
could think was "that's the last time I'll see my baby as an only
child." I cried and cried when he left.
And then the house was eerily quiet—Finn was gone, Ella was gone and
Randy was gone. I finished my shower,
and tried to calm down.
When Randy came back, we finished any last minute cleaning, and
laid down to try to sleep. We put in Knocked Up, and got a bit of sleep. I had
some contractions, but nothing hard, and nothing regular. When we woke up in
the morning, we went on a short walk (in which I had to tie a sweatshirt around
my waist 1996 style because there was so much fluid coming out of me). Randy
and I were scared, but also so excited and so hopeful that because the labor
had started differently it would go differently than Finn's birth—we were so
hopeful, so positive.
Finally
we decided it was time to go to the hospital. We went in, and stopped at
Bernie's office. She checked me and had some bad news. My cervix wasn't ready
for labor. It was high and closed. She even said it wasn't soft. I was so sad.
Bernie said that she went back and forth about starting pitocin or doing
something else. We decided that the best route to go was to insert a drug
called cervidil. It's a progesterone and its job is to soften the cervix to get
it ready for labor. The trick is that it has to be inserted for 12 hours. And
during those 12 hours, you are just supposed to be resting and waiting.
So
we walked over to the hospital to be admitted and start the cervidil (I have no
idea if I’m spelling that right…btw).
The inserted my IV and I almost passed out. Yeah, you heard that correctly. The woman who went through over 72 hours of
“labor” with Finn, passed out when they pricked her with a needle. Then one of the nurses told me I needed to
have thicker skin…and I seriously wanted to deck her in the face. I am NOT a wuss. I have never passed out from needles, or even
had an issue with needles before.
However, when my heart rate dropped, so did the baby’s and it was
scary.
After
that nonsense, they took some blood, and then they inserted the cervidil. And now…we just had to wait for something to
happen. Randy and I talked, and we
watched Harry Potter. Randy’s mom and
sisters came for lunch, and we chatted with them. Nothing was happening.
Then,
close to 3:00, I started to feel contractions…and they sucked. And I wasn’t allowed to get up. And it was TERRIBLE. They were getting stronger and stronger. My nurse (I think it was still Michele at
this point) kept telling me they weren’t contractions, they were “abdominal
discomfort” and I was FREAKING OUT to Randy.
I kept saying “this isn’t even labor, this is just discomfort—I can’t do
this for 5 more hours and then just start labor.” Randy felt awful for me. However, when your water breaks they can only
check you 6 times total, so they weren’t able to tell me where I was, or if
anything was happening.
At
9:45 p.m. they finally removed the cervidil.
I was exhausted, still contracting, and feeling terrible. They had given me a dose of Staydol (sp?) at
one point so I could try to rest through the “abdominal discomfort” that wasn’t
reading as contractions. It made things
a bit better, for about an hour…and it helped a lot since I wasn’t able to do
anything else to cope with labor pains (walking, tub, etc.).
I
was able to start walking and doing different positions at this point. They wanted me to wait for around an hour to
see if my contractions would keep going before they gave me Pitocin. Well, the contractions definitely kept
going…it was at this point where they actually gave in to the fact that they were
contractions and not just abdominal pains.
Finally, around 11 pm they checked me.
I was at 6-7 cm, which was great.
However, I was really discouraged… I felt like they had promised me a
shorter, easier birth, and I was just not feeling it. Louise *our doula if you didn’t know that
tried to pep me up by telling me that I had been right the entire time—I WAS
contracting, the nurses were wrong. I
was mad…mad I had been in bed contracting for several hours and not been able
to get up, and I was feeling oh so negative.
At
that point we got up and walked the halls, changed positions several times and
tried to get things moving. I was in
terrible pain, and feeling discouraged and guilty the entire time. I was really mean to Randy at this point, he
kept trying to help, but all I wanted was louise to be there for me. That is it.
At
that point, Bernie came in and checked me again. She said I was at 8-9 cm, which was
great. However, I had also started
bearing down and pushing when I was having contractions. It was at this point I cried epidural. I was just so done. It was probably around 1 am. I was sad, mad, and just in so much
pain. Randy and Louise talked and
everyone could tell I was serious, and they were also concerned that I kept
pushing. Bernie said my cervix was
“puffy” from pushing, which is why I think she agreed to do the epidural at
that point.
I
was terrified, I was disappointed in myself for asking for the epidural, I was
relieved that the pain would stop soon, and I was still just discouraged about
the entire situation. I thought it would
be easier, that I would be better prepared, and it just kept getting worse.
The
epidural was bad, mostly because I was in the transition stage of labor and
someone was telling me to relax and not move.
After the epidural, I calmed down.
I felt so much better, and I felt clear for the first time all day. With that clarity, the guilt about getting
the epidural set in too. However, I
didn’t have a lot of time to feel guilty, because within an hour I was
pushing. I asked them to turn the
epidural down, and I was able to change positions several times during
pushing. The nurse (Melissa), Bernie and
Louise all assured me that I was pushing correctly. However, the baby wasn’t moving down…and his
heart rate was decelerating.
Every
time I looked at Randy he was pacing and talking under his breath. I don’t know if he was praying, or just
telling himself it would be okay.
Finally, Bernie uttered the phrase “I think it’s going to be a
c-section” every time I pushed, the baby’s heart rate would decelerate, and it
would take him a little while to recover, it was terrifying.
After
Bernie said c-section, we tried 3-4 more positions to try to get the baby to
move down, but nothing worked. The good
news was that the fact that I got the epidural made it easier and calmer to go
straight into the c-section, the bad news is that I immediately convinced
myself that it was my fault that I was getting a c-section, for not being
strong enough to do it without the epidural.
They
wheeled me straight into the surgical room, and at that point things went
fast. Everything from my chest down was
numb, and it was weird. Randy wasn’t
with me, but Louise and Bernie were, and that made it better. I was just sad, and scared and relieved all
at the same time.
The
c-section is fuzzy to me. I’ve remember
that I didn’t feel anything. I remember
holding Louise’s hand, then Randy’s.
Then I remember hearing Crosby cry.
We never heard that with Finn.
Finn never cried. When I heard
it, I lost it and started crying. I
asked “Is he okay?” “how does he look?”
and various other questions. Randy cut
the cord—I was so proud of him.
Then,
the moment. The moment that I have been
waiting for…they placed him on me. They
let me hold him, and while it was weird because my hands were kind of numb
(ish), but I got to do it. I got to be
skin to skin with that adorable little angel immediately after he was
born. I was so happy. I was so happy that I finally got that
moment. It was wonderful. I don’t even remember if Randy got to hold
him or not.
They
took him away, and cleaned him up and got his stats. He entered the world at 5:09 a.m. on July 4th,
2013. He was 8 lbs 3 oz and 19.75, and
he was perfectly perfect. He cried when
he came out, but was calm during all his tests, and he was fabulous.
They
then finished stitching me up, and wheeled me into recovery, where I got to try
to breastfeed (he was AWESOME at this immediately), and hold him, and love
him. I felt weird, and happy, and loopy,
and strange all at the same time, but overwhelmingly in love.
It
was a happy day, and it was a sad day too.
However, it was the day that we met our Crosby Emerson Hoyle, so it was
wonderful.
Recovery
has been really difficult, but also better than anticipated in other ways. The worst part of the entire experience was
the spinal headaches accompanied by the blood patch that occurred four days
after his birth. But that’s a story for
another day.
Welcome
to the world Crosby, we love you so much, you are such a wonderful little baby,
and you are exactly what this family wanted and needed.
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