Birth Story

We were scheduled to be induced on Tuesday, May 19th. However, when we arrived for our last appointment on Monday, the doctor informed us that the hospital would not let him schedule our induction because they would be doing computer upgrades on Tuesday and Wednesday. I was already 3 cm dilated and 90% effaced. He really didn't want to wait much longer than that (neither did I), so he stripped my membranes and told me that if I was having ANY contractions overnight or in the morning to show up at L&D on Tuesday morning at 6 am. He would meet us there and break my water before triage could send me home.

As it turned out, I ended up having contractions about every 6 minutes apart overnight, and somehow when I arrived with Mando and my mom at L&D in the morning they already had me on the schedule for induction. Go figure. They got me checked in, started my IV and then started pitocin about 7 am. Dr. S arrived at about 7:30 to check me (still 3cm and 90%) and break my water (ouch). I was already feeling stronger contractions but they weren't painful.

A little after 8 am the contractions started to get stronger and painful to the point that I was having to breathe through them. They were about 3 minutes apart and I felt like I got a good break in between to recover and get ready for the next one.

Dr. S returned about 10:30 to check me. I was now 4cm and fully effaced. Shortly after he left, the contractions really picked up (they had been upping my pitocin every 30 minutes or so). They were consistently 2 minutes apart and although the intensity would come down, the contraction never really went away, so I was having to breathe continually. They also would go through the roof when the contraction started so I didn't feel like I could mentally prepare myself while the contraction built. I waffled for a bit about getting an epidural. We had originally planned to go naturally, but the contractions with the pitocin were insane. I asked for the epidural about 10:45.

I'm glad I asked when I did. The anesthesiologist was busy with another patient on the floor who had a difficult IV and didn't arrive until nearly an hour later. By then, the only thing that was getting me through each contraction was the knowledge that the epidural was on the way. I changed positions a bit, surprisingly sitting up and hanging my legs off the bed (same position they needed me in for the epidural anyway) helped some. Mando stood in front of me and I just leaned on his shoulder and breathed through it as best as I could. Everyone was telling me how well I was handling the contractions, especially given how strong they were, but I certainly didn't feel like I was handling them well at all. I would close my eyes and relax my face and body like we had practiced in class, but inside my head, I was freaking out and trying not to panic.

The epidural wasn't bad. Honestly, I was so distracted by the contractions that I really wasn't cognizant of what he was doing and I hardly remember it. But it was in and I started to feel relief by 12 pm. The nurse checked me again at 12:05 and I was 5 cm. Mando and my mom decided to go and grab some lunch since I was feeling better and I relaxed and dozed for a bit.

Dr. S returned at 12:30 to check me - holy cow, I was 9 cm! They raised my bed so I was sitting up to help Squeaky move down because I was still at a minus 2 station. The doc told me that we would be pushing in about 30-45 minutes.

As it turns out, it took a little longer than that. When the nurse checked me around 1ish, she told me I was only 8.5 cm, but he had moved down to a minus 1. I wasn't too upset about the lack of progress, I was still trying to wrap my head around the amount of progress I had made in the last hour anyway. Somewhere between 1:30 and 1:45, the nurse checked me again and told me I was very nearly complete, the last bit of cervix would go away as I pushed.

Pushing was, surreal to say the least. I had some sensation and control in my left leg, but absolutely none in my right leg, and it was very weird to watch my right leg get lifted up but not have my brain realize it. Also, when I no pressure or anything when I pushed. The nurse would tell me that I was doing well and coach me a bit, but I had so little feeling that I felt I couldn't replicate whatever it was I was doing that was good. They asked me if I wanted a mirror, (which I hadn't really thought about before) and I told them yes. The mirror helped me focus my pushing some. The nurse would count to ten when I pushed and I found I could start pushing, then push even harder and hold it around the count of 4 and I could usually see his head move a bit.

All in all, I pushed for about two hours. I got to the point where I could consistently see about a 2 inch diameter of his head, but I was getting tired and I couldn't seem to get him past that point. Dr. S arrived and told me he suspected that Squeaky wasn't turning that last quarter turn from his side to face down and that is why I was having so much trouble. He recommended using the vacuum extractor to help move him down and out. I agreed. By that point, I knew I didn't have much strength left and I was worried they would start talking about a c-section if we couldn't get Squeaky moving.

We pushed for about 2 contractions with the vacuum and Dr. S was able to turn him to the face down position and then he was crowning. I saw the doctor pull out the scissors for an episiotomy and I closed my eyes because I knew I didn't want to see that. During that time, I was in between contractions and just resting with my eyes closed and I heard Dr. S say something about "You just relax, I'm going to see what I can do down here". Next thing I knew they were telling me to get ready to push. I opened my eyes and his head was already out! I pushed once, saw his shoulders come out, and then he was out and on my chest (more surreal-ness!).

I bawled and really couldn't say anything beyond "Hi" and "Oh my God!". They kept telling me how big he was and I thought to myself "Ok, he's probably 8 or 8 and half pounds". They took him away after about a minute because although he was crying, he wasn't clearing his lungs they way they wanted and he was still pretty purple. However, a few minutes later his was bright pink and screaming his lungs out.



It took them about 20 minutes to get him all taken care of, and he was in the warmer on the other side of the room, so I really couldn't see him, which drove me crazy! Mando was taking tons of pictures and talking to him, which made me feel better. But then he would turn to me and tell me about this great picture he just got or how great Squeaky looked and it was all I could do not to yell at him "At least bring the camera over to me!" While he was on my chest, all I could really see was the top of his head and I hadn't gotten a good look at his face. They told me he was 8 lbs, 15 oz and I couldn't believe it. Finally, Mando brought him over to me, and I asked him what he was thinking for his name. Mando said "I'm pretty sure he is a Gabriel" and then handed him to me.



And I lost it. Again.

Since then, things have been going well. His official weight in the nursery was 9lbs, 2 oz. He breastfeeds like a champ. I've joked that he seems to get the breastfeeding better than I do. As of his pediatric appointment this morning, he was 9lbs, 1oz, so nearly back up to his birth weight.

Recovery for me has been harder than I expected, mostly due to the episiotomy and killer hemorrhoids. It's much harder to get up and down than I expected and sitting up, especially to breastfeed, has been difficult at times. It's hard on me because I want to jump in and be active when he cries or needs something, but I can't always do that. And asking for help is hard because, well, I'm stubborn. But I'm starting to feel better. Today was the first day that I feel more like my normal self.

All in all, I'm happy with the way my delivery went. It wasn't how we "planned", but we decided when we went in to be flexible and I think that helps a lot. I wouldn't want to be disappointed in my L&D experience, especially when the outcome is such a beautiful, wonderful little person. As you can see, we're pretty damn happy: