How we got a Jack Part 2

At this point I couldn't help but thinking, "I told you so."  We had been right, it was amniotic fluid.  It was a good thing I had listened to the spirit whispering to me to get to the hospital.  

The doctor arrived and informed me that she wanted the baby out of me in 18 hours from when my water broke because of afore mentioned infections.  So my water broke around 7-8 o'clock the night before.  It was now about 6 in the morning.  That gave me until about 1 in the afternoon to pop that baby out.  

Because of the urgency, they started me on Pitocin.  At this point I still wasn't feeling any contractions, but they were coming about 2 minutes apart.  The likable yet sassy nurse, who assisted me, informed me that I was 5 cm dilated.

It took about half an hour but I slowly started to feel the contractions.  About two hours in I could feel them a lot.  I was told to get the epidural when the pain was really bad and I couldn't talk during contractions.  I was afraid of being a pansy and asking for the epidural too soon.  And I could still talk during contractions, it took some effort but I could.  And I HATED pushing the nurses button.  Chris and I waited through many an alarm because we both didn't want to push the nurse button.  Chris finally figured out how to disable the darn thing himself.  We also started taking turns having to push the button.

So I waited until I couldn't talk or the nurse came back.  The pain worsened.  I started to cry.  It was a pathetic little whimper.  The pain was fine as long as I had a break.  The worst part was when the contractions were so close together that I couldn't regroup in between.  Finally the nurse came back and said maybe it was time to get the epidural.  My first thought was, "But I can still talk during the contractions."  I was a little hung up on that.  But if she was offering it, I wasn't going to refuse.  She said it would probably take 15 minutes to get it.  I doubled that in my head and set in for the wait.  I had figured out that things in this hospital took twice as long as you think they will.  Then I found out that the anesthesiologist had to give another epidural first...I was second in line.  In line? What was this, a buffet?  Except instead of those delicious scones at Chuck-a-rama, I was waiting for some beautiful numbing drugs.  

The anesthesiologist arrived about half an hour later.  My twice-as-long theory had been validated, I felt quite smug for someone who was crying in the fetal position.  At this point I had gotten to that point where I didn't really care how I was acting or what noises I was making in front of complete strangers.  Part of me was intrigued by this lack of caring, because I can't help over analyzing absolutely every situation in my life.  

So the anesthesiologist informed me that when he inserted the needle I might hear popping but that it was just the needle going through cartilage in my back.  If I hadn't been so grateful for that needle I might have gagged.  As it turned out I didn't hear that nasty thing and I didn't feel the epidural either.  From that point on the world looked much better.  The pain went away but not the pressure.  I could still move my legs and feel the contractions, it just didn't hurt.  It was perfect.  The nurse checked me right after I got the epidural and I was fully effaced and dilated to a nine.  I was surprised.  I though for sure I'd have a few more hours to go.  It had only been about an hour and a half since the last time I had been checked.  I was rather proud that I had made it that far natur-al.  I was also relieved I had gotten the epidural in time, because, I did not want to find out why they called it "the ring of fire".  

I started to feel like the babies head was about to pop our of my va-jay-jay, but we had to wait for the doctor to arrive.  The nurse informed me that doctors are quite mad if the baby arrives before they do.  And I spent the next little while contemplating nurse-doctor dynamics. (over analyzing again.)

Eventually the doctor arrived and it was time to push.  I was tired.  Both Chris and I hadn't slept in over 24 hours.  And I was afraid that somehow the epidural would take a vay-cay and I would feel it all.  The doctor told me to push as hard as I could and that the more I pushed the faster it would go.  With each push I thought of those people who can lift cars when someone they love is underneath and they have enough adrenalin   I tried to channel those hefty fiends, and pushed with all of my might.  I made some beautiful pushing noises.  

About 20 minutes later the little guy popped on out.  Chris and the doctor were so amazing and encouraging.  It was very helpful.  I also had a mirror so I could watch.  I was very grateful that I couldn't feel what the doctor was doing.  There was a lot of stretching, tugging and pulling on my unders.  I have to admit, getting such a good view of oneself is...disturbing with a dash of intrigue thrown in there.  

They put the baby on me and all I could think was, "this thing is covered in white nastiness."  I felt like I should hold my baby for sentiments sake.  But all I managed was a poke and then I was grossed out by the white nastiness and just decided to save the sentimentality til later, when the baby was a little cuter.   

The doctor showed me the placenta and all I could say was, "Wow that looks like a swimming cap."  Which in retrospect is a pretty nasty comparison....but it did.  

I was so happy to have my baby and that everything went so smoothly.  I really think that my labor was just about as good as it could have been.  For me the worst part was when the rest of my water decided to break and I was left sitting in my own juices for a couple of hours.  That traumatized me quite a bit.  Darn my nurse button pushing fear.  I could have remedied that situation much sooner.  

Recovery has gone amazingly too.  I love being able to move, bend, run and not feel winded and sore.  I was told I should take it easier but I am so glad to be able to move again.  And my emotions finally leveled out.  I feel like a brand new person.  I love not being pregnant.  And I just love having my little Brevis Cutus Shortus around.  That is his scientific name.  

He is about a month old and I just love him so much.  Sometimes I just look and him and tear up.  I still love Chris more than anyone in the whole wide world but little Jack is just a little bit behind him.  And Mandi you are just a little behind that.  

How we got a Jack, Part 1

So here it is...the story of the time I popped out a wee human...

It all started when my membranes were stripped at my doctor's appointment.  She told me that 50% of the time when this is done nothing happens and the other 50% of the time, people's water break or their contractions start.  I was still 5 days from my due date but I was hoping for the latter.  

I made my way to Chris's hockey game where I signed to him my progress in previously established hand gestures.  (The sign that my membranes had been stripped was a violent clawing motion,  Chris's idea).  All throughout his game I kept hoping my water would break all over that cold bench and I could have my baby.  The fact that I would have to walk away from everybody on the ice with a wet butt didn't bother me that much.  But...nothing happened.  Until...

...later that night around seven o'clock.  I was sitting there making a felt stocking for Jack.  Chris and his cousin Dallan were sitting on the couch talking and I think Everybody Loves Raymond was on.   And I felt it, a warm gush.  I threw my sewing and ran for the bathroom.  This is were it gets graphic (well maybe that started at "warm gush").  I discovered in the bathroom something that led me to believe my water had been broken but there wasn't enough water.  I'd always heard about it reaching people's ankles.  After much in depth discussion with Dallan, Chris, Chris's mom, and eventually a picture being sent with Dallan's phone to Chris's mom of the offending fluid (not my idea), it was determined that I had in fact leaked some amnionic fluid/my water had broken.  Chris's mom informed me that I had 24 hours from when my water broke to get the baby out or there could be serious infections. 

So I called the doctor's office asking them if I should go to the hospital.  They said no and that it was probably just spotting.  They said unless there was a lot of fluid then it wasn't my water breaking.    I got kind of sassy with the medical assistant and asked her to double check with the doctor.  The doctor again told me not to worry and that if I wanted I could go to the hospital I could, but it was probably nothing.  I was still worried so I called the hospital and spoke with one of the nurses there who also told me that what I leaked was probably just spotting.  

Around this time it was determined by Chris's mom that the reason there was so little amniotic fluid was because the baby was sitting so low blocking the rest of the fluid from coming out.  Chris and Dallan wanted to test this theroy.  I don't know how exactly it happened or why I let it happen, but let's just say peer pressure is a very powerful thing.  And the next thing I knew, Chris had one of my legs, Dallan had the other and I was hanging upside down.  That's right...they decided if the baby was blocking the rest of the fluid, tipping me upside would pull the baby down away from the opening allowing more fluid to come out.  So there I was, a 9 month pregnant women, hanging upside down, who had fallen victim to the inquiring minds of two inquisitive young men.

But the experiment worked...I leaked again.  And again later on.  And pretty much every time I stood up.  The night wore on and I started to get worried.  I had heard about people leaking too much amniotic fluid and then the babies head squished the cord causing brain damage.  I was torn about what to do.  I didn't want to show up at the hospital and look like an idiot after two people had told me not to worry, but I was worried and I couldn't stop a little voice in my head that kept saying, "Just go in to the hospital."  

After a few tears of frustration it was decided that Chris and I weren't getting any sleep.  So, we decided to head to the hospital where I informed the front desk people that, "I wanted to make sure  I wasn't leaking anything that needed to stay inside of me."  That was the most intelligent thing I could come up with at that point.  

I was hooked up to monitors and tested to see if I had leaked amniotic fluid.  One test came back negative but the nurse decided to double check and performed another test.  Meanwhile Chris and I were getting prepared mentally to go back home and go to bed.  By this time it was about three in the morning and we were sure it was a false alarm.  I was so tired I wasn't even that disappointed.   Bed started to sound really good.  

One of the monitors that was on me was testing to see if I was having any contractions.  I was highly confused because the monitors kept saying I was having contractions about every three minutes, but all I could feel was what I thought was the baby pushing on me under my ribs.  It didn't hurt, it was just a little pressure.  

In due time the nurse came back with an IV in her hands.  She asked, "Do you want the good news or the bad news?"  One always asks for the bad news first.  She said, "The bad news is, I have to start an IV.  The good news is, you are going to have your baby."  At this point I was excited but scared all at the same time.  Was I ready for all of the pain and pushing and agony that I had dreaded my whole life?  Probably not, but it was going to happen either way.