The Labor and Birth Post
Nov. 8th, 2007 11:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eniarelocinToday I've added a total of three short sentences somewhere near the middle and the rest of this was written at least two weeks ago.
Disclaimer: This is rather disjointed. This has been written in multiple sessions more than a week on after the actual event. I’ve been rather busy and had my hands full, you see. This is probably the longest I’ve yet gone in that time without actually holding Ewan, or someone else holding him. But anyway… here you go. TMI is likely.
After a week and a day of motherhood, I think I'm forgetting how to sleep.
This week has been nothing short of surreal. Right now I'm finally getting to type with both hands and with a sleeping baby on my chest. A baby. Our baby. How is that possible? Even though I was pregnant for the entirety of the year up until last week, it still seems as though even that may not have happened. I keep looking down at this little person and wondering how on earth he could 1) be real and 2) be mine.
Following my post and a lot of crying, a lot, we took our bags and headed for Anacortes. Mom was in tow in her own car. We arrived somewhere in the realm of 3:30pm and were met by Danielle, the doula sent by Darlene. She arrived ahead of us. To start off our visit we dealt with the new girl at check-in. This seemed like a fairly foreboding sign, but after a few minutes and mild to moderate annoyance we were allowed to proceed to the birthing center.
The birthing center at Island Hospital is currently being housed in old ICU wing while they renovate. We were ushered into the room which was very much a sterile, cold hospital room dominated by equipment. I remember stopping short of the bed and just looking around, a certain amount a shock rushing over me. Everything I had been afraid of seemed to be staring me in the face.
We met our nurse, Hope, and tried to settle in. Stephen, Dani (the doula), Mom and I all tried to find our place in the room. Not long after,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
to_rei_shi arrived. Very early on, it became clear that it was going to be very cramped quarters in our room, especially once the labor tub was put into place. This was made more poignant by the constant flood of nurses, phlebotomists, and other needle wielding people, all gunning for my arms.
Essentially the 5 hours between when we got into the hospital room and when they actually began pumping Pitocin in to my veins involved a lot of people routing around in my veins. I really wanted avoid having the IV put into my hand for two reasons: 1) it freaks me out- it’s the only thing that makes me squidgy, and 2) I wanted to be able to move and change position when the Pitocin actually did its job. In order to make this dream a reality, there were multiple tries first from our nurse, Hope, then from another nurse on the floor, then someone else, then from a nurse they pulled from the ER, and then they finally called for the anesthesiologist.
Fortunately, another anesthesiologist, Ken, happened to be walking by. He came in to lend a hand, armed with a mystery syringe full of clear liquid. I asked him what the syringe contained and he answered it was local anesthetic. I told him I didn’t need it. He told me he would do it anyway. I said I didn’t want it, and then Dani jumped in to say I’m allergic to Novocain (which I sort of am- but I put it on my birth plan). Ken looked genuinely confused. I pointed out that I’d already had at least 6 failed attempts and I could certainly take another. Ken said, “ok, but it goes against my grain.” He prepared to go in and looked up to see me looking at him. “Are you going to watch me?” I think my reply was, “I’ve watched everyone try. Are you going to get it in?” Ken did indeed have success with the IV… he also left the biggest bruise. Coincidentally, he again happened to be walking by in the morning and was kind enough to assist Stephen with the packing up of the birth tub. We’ve decided that Ken the Anesthesiologist is our labor and birth mascot.
Somewhere in that lost five hours of waiting also included more video interviews perpetrated by Stephen, the sudden documentary film maker, and a walk around the hospital. There was pizza and belly dancing (which was short lived). Stephen, Traci and Dani worked to set up the labor tub while people dug around in my arm. There was a lot of waiting, but it wasn’t too bad.
…
The hospital experience was not the terrifying event we were expecting. I believe this is largely, even entirely, due to the understanding and accommodating nature of the nurses and especially the OB. Although I was very nervous when we got there, it did not take too long to calm down and settle into the room. We were attended by Dr. Shauna Laursen (who requested to be called Shauna). She came in with a cup of coffee and spent a great deal of time talking to us about our expectations, reservations, wishes and address our questions. She, of course, also talked to us about would we really could expect from our birth experience.
As mentioned before, my water had broken at approximately 9:45am that morning. Following the news that we’d need to go to the hospital and then actually arriving, my contractions ceased. I believe this was made worse by the fact that I had to sit in an uncomfortable position in the hospital bed and not really move for hours on end. These things, with the added bonus of my high blood pressure, meant that Pitocin was non-negotiable. After a ridiculous number of attempts to get an IV into my arm, success was had by Ken the Anesthesiologist, they finally started Pitocin at around 9pm – almost 12 hours post water breakage.
Sometime past 10pm the contractions finally began. Very quickly they became strong and close together. Again, they were about three minutes apart and lasting for more than minute. I believe Dr. Shauna was meant to check in, or come in, at about 11pm.
You must forgive me, as after this point, the details get less distinct.
Before labor had really become active, I know they had turned up the Pitocin at least once, and I believe twice. It didn’t take long before labor to really become labor. Contractions were very strong, nearly unbearable. A lot of the pain was in my back, so I suppose I did have back labor after all. The pain was excruciating. For more than an hour, contractions were nearly, or were in fact, back to back. They were unrelenting and so strong. I was very thankful to have Stephen and Dani there to help me through the pain. Often, Dani put pressure on and/or rubbed my low back while Stephen stayed near my face. Even though I most often wanted to have my eyes shut, I was meant to keep my eyes on Stephen. He was an absolute star through labor. He was fabulously calm. He was great strength for me when I felt like I couldn’t take it anymore.
I was able to spend some time in the labor tub (which they were kind enough to allow us to set up in the room which we even partially rearranged to accommodate). However, with Pitocin they routinely monitor the baby for evidence of faetal distress. We tried to use their wireless EFMs, but they couldn’t hold a signal- even in the bed. The doctor was nice enough to try and use a hand held monitor so that I could stay in the tub. This did work, but I had to lift my belly up out of the water during contractions for her monitor without shocking both of us. This rather negated the purpose of being in the tub since I had to modify my position making it impossible to really relax my back. So, unfortunately, I did not spend a great deal of time in the tub.
Prior to labor I was expecting to want to be in certain positions- namely squatting, on hands and knees, and in the tub. In reality, standing bent over the bed and rocking back and forth was one of the more popular positions. However, nothing trumped the toilet. This is something I would not have expected. I’m not sure if it was just the mental benefit of feeling like I could relax everything or not. There was so much pressure in my pelvic region – they tell you that you’ll feel like you need to poo, but they really aren’t kidding. At one point I said “uh oh” because I thought I was, but I wasn’t. I’m happy to report that I never did. Even pushing didn’t happen in the positions I imagined. In reality, I did end up on my back. I think the OB tricked me. She had me lay down to examine me because I was ready to push (starting to push) and she wanted to check my cervix one last time. While I was in that position she had me push to see if I could get past the last ring of cervix which was the only thing in my way at that point. I did and at that point, stayed where I was.
There was a bar over the lower part of bed which was designed for squatting. However, they had my put my feet on the sides of it and I used my arms to pull on a sheet tied to the center/top of it, which the doctor had tied there for me to use. During contractions I pulled up with my arms to curl myself and push harder, and pushed with my legs as well. Stephen says I was bending the steel bar and that I’m a scary woman. This, of course, occurred with me naked. My modesty was intact, by the way, but anything that could be done to reduce my temperature at the time became a higher priority. That was seriously hard work.
During this whole labor thing I still had time, somehow, to have rather outside thoughts. I remember thinking at the time that the entire thing was so surreal. I remember being in somewhat of a state of disbelief that I was sitting mostly naked on a hospital loo with my husband right there with me. Of course being surrounded by a handful of people, pushing as hard as I could, and naked was a little hard to swallow, even at the time. More than anything, it was really hard to wrap my head around the idea that there really was a little person working its way out of me. One of the reasons I was so resolved in my pushing was that I wanted to feel the shape of the head, the ring of fire, and most importantly concrete evidence that I was really pushing out a baby. Prior to that point, which was very near the end, the only evidence of progress was that the mass of pain did get lower and lower, but it was so broad that it couldn’t have been identified as anything more than excruciating back pain. Even while pushing I had a hard time really believe that could be happening. Honestly, even with this beautiful little baby sleeping right in front of me, I’m still not sure it happened.
I guess the short wrap up is that after about half an hour of pushing, finally I felt baby slide out of me. He went immediately to my chest. The first thing I did besides trying to comprehend the moment was to pull the legs apart to see what we had: a boy. There are a lot of details I didn’t catch- there was a lot of activity going on around me to which I was not paying attention. I do remember, however, someone asking what his name was to which Stephen replied, “Ewan Andrew.” I can’t exactly describe how or why, but that moment was somewhat ground shaking.
I wish I could remember everything better than I can. He was there on my chest, crying and then looking around. It just doesn’t seem real. I’m still waiting for the moment when I have to give him back to his real person, or that I’ll wake up and find it didn’t happen. But I think it must have. I remember holding him and trying to play with his little fingers. He was, is, so strong. He has very bright eyes. They are dark brown under a steely, gunmetal sheen. He has long thin fingers and toes. His features are delicate and defined. He is our little man.
...
Well that isn't what I was hoping for in terms of detail, flow or any amount of literary achievement but there you go. It only took me a month to actually post.
Disclaimer: This is rather disjointed. This has been written in multiple sessions more than a week on after the actual event. I’ve been rather busy and had my hands full, you see. This is probably the longest I’ve yet gone in that time without actually holding Ewan, or someone else holding him. But anyway… here you go. TMI is likely.
After a week and a day of motherhood, I think I'm forgetting how to sleep.
This week has been nothing short of surreal. Right now I'm finally getting to type with both hands and with a sleeping baby on my chest. A baby. Our baby. How is that possible? Even though I was pregnant for the entirety of the year up until last week, it still seems as though even that may not have happened. I keep looking down at this little person and wondering how on earth he could 1) be real and 2) be mine.
Labor and Birth
Following my post and a lot of crying, a lot, we took our bags and headed for Anacortes. Mom was in tow in her own car. We arrived somewhere in the realm of 3:30pm and were met by Danielle, the doula sent by Darlene. She arrived ahead of us. To start off our visit we dealt with the new girl at check-in. This seemed like a fairly foreboding sign, but after a few minutes and mild to moderate annoyance we were allowed to proceed to the birthing center.
The birthing center at Island Hospital is currently being housed in old ICU wing while they renovate. We were ushered into the room which was very much a sterile, cold hospital room dominated by equipment. I remember stopping short of the bed and just looking around, a certain amount a shock rushing over me. Everything I had been afraid of seemed to be staring me in the face.
We met our nurse, Hope, and tried to settle in. Stephen, Dani (the doula), Mom and I all tried to find our place in the room. Not long after,
to_rei_shi arrived. Very early on, it became clear that it was going to be very cramped quarters in our room, especially once the labor tub was put into place. This was made more poignant by the constant flood of nurses, phlebotomists, and other needle wielding people, all gunning for my arms. Essentially the 5 hours between when we got into the hospital room and when they actually began pumping Pitocin in to my veins involved a lot of people routing around in my veins. I really wanted avoid having the IV put into my hand for two reasons: 1) it freaks me out- it’s the only thing that makes me squidgy, and 2) I wanted to be able to move and change position when the Pitocin actually did its job. In order to make this dream a reality, there were multiple tries first from our nurse, Hope, then from another nurse on the floor, then someone else, then from a nurse they pulled from the ER, and then they finally called for the anesthesiologist.
Fortunately, another anesthesiologist, Ken, happened to be walking by. He came in to lend a hand, armed with a mystery syringe full of clear liquid. I asked him what the syringe contained and he answered it was local anesthetic. I told him I didn’t need it. He told me he would do it anyway. I said I didn’t want it, and then Dani jumped in to say I’m allergic to Novocain (which I sort of am- but I put it on my birth plan). Ken looked genuinely confused. I pointed out that I’d already had at least 6 failed attempts and I could certainly take another. Ken said, “ok, but it goes against my grain.” He prepared to go in and looked up to see me looking at him. “Are you going to watch me?” I think my reply was, “I’ve watched everyone try. Are you going to get it in?” Ken did indeed have success with the IV… he also left the biggest bruise. Coincidentally, he again happened to be walking by in the morning and was kind enough to assist Stephen with the packing up of the birth tub. We’ve decided that Ken the Anesthesiologist is our labor and birth mascot.
Somewhere in that lost five hours of waiting also included more video interviews perpetrated by Stephen, the sudden documentary film maker, and a walk around the hospital. There was pizza and belly dancing (which was short lived). Stephen, Traci and Dani worked to set up the labor tub while people dug around in my arm. There was a lot of waiting, but it wasn’t too bad.
…
The hospital experience was not the terrifying event we were expecting. I believe this is largely, even entirely, due to the understanding and accommodating nature of the nurses and especially the OB. Although I was very nervous when we got there, it did not take too long to calm down and settle into the room. We were attended by Dr. Shauna Laursen (who requested to be called Shauna). She came in with a cup of coffee and spent a great deal of time talking to us about our expectations, reservations, wishes and address our questions. She, of course, also talked to us about would we really could expect from our birth experience.
As mentioned before, my water had broken at approximately 9:45am that morning. Following the news that we’d need to go to the hospital and then actually arriving, my contractions ceased. I believe this was made worse by the fact that I had to sit in an uncomfortable position in the hospital bed and not really move for hours on end. These things, with the added bonus of my high blood pressure, meant that Pitocin was non-negotiable. After a ridiculous number of attempts to get an IV into my arm, success was had by Ken the Anesthesiologist, they finally started Pitocin at around 9pm – almost 12 hours post water breakage.
Sometime past 10pm the contractions finally began. Very quickly they became strong and close together. Again, they were about three minutes apart and lasting for more than minute. I believe Dr. Shauna was meant to check in, or come in, at about 11pm.
You must forgive me, as after this point, the details get less distinct.
Before labor had really become active, I know they had turned up the Pitocin at least once, and I believe twice. It didn’t take long before labor to really become labor. Contractions were very strong, nearly unbearable. A lot of the pain was in my back, so I suppose I did have back labor after all. The pain was excruciating. For more than an hour, contractions were nearly, or were in fact, back to back. They were unrelenting and so strong. I was very thankful to have Stephen and Dani there to help me through the pain. Often, Dani put pressure on and/or rubbed my low back while Stephen stayed near my face. Even though I most often wanted to have my eyes shut, I was meant to keep my eyes on Stephen. He was an absolute star through labor. He was fabulously calm. He was great strength for me when I felt like I couldn’t take it anymore.
I was able to spend some time in the labor tub (which they were kind enough to allow us to set up in the room which we even partially rearranged to accommodate). However, with Pitocin they routinely monitor the baby for evidence of faetal distress. We tried to use their wireless EFMs, but they couldn’t hold a signal- even in the bed. The doctor was nice enough to try and use a hand held monitor so that I could stay in the tub. This did work, but I had to lift my belly up out of the water during contractions for her monitor without shocking both of us. This rather negated the purpose of being in the tub since I had to modify my position making it impossible to really relax my back. So, unfortunately, I did not spend a great deal of time in the tub.
Prior to labor I was expecting to want to be in certain positions- namely squatting, on hands and knees, and in the tub. In reality, standing bent over the bed and rocking back and forth was one of the more popular positions. However, nothing trumped the toilet. This is something I would not have expected. I’m not sure if it was just the mental benefit of feeling like I could relax everything or not. There was so much pressure in my pelvic region – they tell you that you’ll feel like you need to poo, but they really aren’t kidding. At one point I said “uh oh” because I thought I was, but I wasn’t. I’m happy to report that I never did. Even pushing didn’t happen in the positions I imagined. In reality, I did end up on my back. I think the OB tricked me. She had me lay down to examine me because I was ready to push (starting to push) and she wanted to check my cervix one last time. While I was in that position she had me push to see if I could get past the last ring of cervix which was the only thing in my way at that point. I did and at that point, stayed where I was.
There was a bar over the lower part of bed which was designed for squatting. However, they had my put my feet on the sides of it and I used my arms to pull on a sheet tied to the center/top of it, which the doctor had tied there for me to use. During contractions I pulled up with my arms to curl myself and push harder, and pushed with my legs as well. Stephen says I was bending the steel bar and that I’m a scary woman. This, of course, occurred with me naked. My modesty was intact, by the way, but anything that could be done to reduce my temperature at the time became a higher priority. That was seriously hard work.
During this whole labor thing I still had time, somehow, to have rather outside thoughts. I remember thinking at the time that the entire thing was so surreal. I remember being in somewhat of a state of disbelief that I was sitting mostly naked on a hospital loo with my husband right there with me. Of course being surrounded by a handful of people, pushing as hard as I could, and naked was a little hard to swallow, even at the time. More than anything, it was really hard to wrap my head around the idea that there really was a little person working its way out of me. One of the reasons I was so resolved in my pushing was that I wanted to feel the shape of the head, the ring of fire, and most importantly concrete evidence that I was really pushing out a baby. Prior to that point, which was very near the end, the only evidence of progress was that the mass of pain did get lower and lower, but it was so broad that it couldn’t have been identified as anything more than excruciating back pain. Even while pushing I had a hard time really believe that could be happening. Honestly, even with this beautiful little baby sleeping right in front of me, I’m still not sure it happened.
I guess the short wrap up is that after about half an hour of pushing, finally I felt baby slide out of me. He went immediately to my chest. The first thing I did besides trying to comprehend the moment was to pull the legs apart to see what we had: a boy. There are a lot of details I didn’t catch- there was a lot of activity going on around me to which I was not paying attention. I do remember, however, someone asking what his name was to which Stephen replied, “Ewan Andrew.” I can’t exactly describe how or why, but that moment was somewhat ground shaking.
I wish I could remember everything better than I can. He was there on my chest, crying and then looking around. It just doesn’t seem real. I’m still waiting for the moment when I have to give him back to his real person, or that I’ll wake up and find it didn’t happen. But I think it must have. I remember holding him and trying to play with his little fingers. He was, is, so strong. He has very bright eyes. They are dark brown under a steely, gunmetal sheen. He has long thin fingers and toes. His features are delicate and defined. He is our little man.
...
Well that isn't what I was hoping for in terms of detail, flow or any amount of literary achievement but there you go. It only took me a month to actually post.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-11-10 05:07 pm (UTC)And don't worry about taking a month to post it - if I hadn't written mine in a miracle spare hour we had the night we got home, I'd never have managed it for weeks! I was still running on adrenaline at that point I think ;-)
IVs really are the work of the devil. Having had four recently, and two of those were to replace ones that had gone wrong, I feel your pain!
Well done for remembering to check what he was - I'd been told a girl but I didn't remember to check for about 15 minutes I was so confounded ;-)
Great write-up! :-)