Yes indeed, many who know me, know I am a story teller. I have my own anecdotes of a million crazy lives I've lead in these short years, as well as a rolodex of a brain that remembers random facts to throw in at any time. And seriously, I have always thought that most of my stories were somewhat amusing. The kinds of stories that you know are true, but you still want to look at me as if to say, "Really? You're not making this up?"
Well, this story, I wish I was making it up: "68 Hours of Labor"
Elliott Rose Carter, Welcome to the world. Leave it to me, maybe as my penance for every time someone asked me how my pregnancy was going, and I responded with, "Its Great! No problems at all!" I more than made up for it in my lengthy labor and delivery. It all started last Thursday July 29. With contractions 5 min apart for more than a few hours, I was figuring we were well on our way. Yet when Friday morning rolled around and everything had stalled, I was not so sure what turn we would be taking. Apparently no turn, as we sat and waited all day and still... Nothing. But, let us not lose hope. Saturday I woke up with contractions coming on well. So I figure, lets walk this baby out. We head out into the neighborhood, get breakfast, do some shopping etc. Mid afternoon hits and I am sweating out some of these babies, Mom's timing me, and at 4 min apart, Fer had to run off and bring the car. We are on our way to the hospital.
Well, hospitals are fun. And its even more fun when you are admitted, checked out, and find that indeed, walking does bring out babies, but only if you are hydrated. Dehydration only brings on painful and annoying contractions that really, do not do much of anything. I was 50% effaced (looking for magic #100) and 1 cm dilated (and waiting for 10) Awesome. Time to put that tail between my legs and take the long ride back home.
Hydration and sleep, thank god, took me the rest of the way. I woke Sunday morning with normal contractions happening again. And yet it took me ALL FREAKING DAY to get anywhere with them. So lets count it so far, yes, that's 2 full days of labor, not counting the false starts on Thurs and Fri. At 9:30 I couldn't talk anymore so we head BACK to the hospital.
10:30pm and I'm admitted, and things are happening. IV started, 3-4 cm dilated, 100% effaced. I hear things like, "Getting to 4cm is the hard part, it's not going to be too bad now". "Things usually happen quickly once you hit 5 cm". "Don't worry about it, your water should break soon, and once that happens, things are on a roll." RIGHT.
No sleep, night 1. I have already been up for 28 hours when they offer me a sedative to try and catch some sleep for an hour or 2. Wanting this thing to be Fully Natural, I call my childbirth instructor and ask her opinion. With an a-ok on that one, I take a 2 hour cat nap. That is the last of sleep I will see until the 3 1/2 hour stretch I will get Wed night. Someone should have told me that.
Labor labor labor all the rest of Monday, the Dr. broke my water at 6pm and by 10pm I was ready to keel over. I was passing out in the 1 min increments between contractions and nodding off. Muttering things like: "Mistake, Can't make it, No, No, No, No. I know why no one wants to feel this." Almost midnight and I hear the words, 8-9cm dilated, and, "If you turn into this horrible position, that will bring on the most painful contractions of anyone's existence, but then it won't be long. Want to try it?" And for some god-forsaken reason, I did.
Which brings us to Tuesday Aug. 3 at 2:03 am. Checked by my nurse after much complaining about needing to push, I was told that I should be prepared, the baby was not quite ready to make its way out, and I could have anywhere from 1 to 4 more hours to go. I was supposed to conserve my energy, as this is when emergencies happen, and at any moment, I or the baby could be in distress if I tried to push too much too early. I was told I was allowed to "bear down some" when I felt the urge, and that I could get up and move around if it helped, but to be careful.
Hearing that, my ass shot outta bed like a freaking rocket, and I quickly crouched over some blankets by the foot of the bed, on my knees, with my arm on the bed to support me. And I bore down. I mean, like BORE DOWN. Like, for the freaking love of god, this baby is getting out come hell or high water and she is coming out NOW. The eviction notice has been signed, sealed and delivered and we are FORECLOSING ON THIS PROPERTY. I shouted, "It' coming, I can feel it!" and both Fer and my mom said, no way, you heard the nurse, not yet. To which I responded, IF SHE IS NOT COMING OUT NOW, I WANT HER TO GO BACK!!! IT BURNS! (ring of fire) And they smiled at me, as if to say, Silly Dao. Not now, you will know of the ring of fire much later. To which I responded, KRIS, CATCH THE BABY'S HEAD, ITS OUT, ITS OUT ITS OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!
And woah nelly, it was out. No nurses, no doctors, on the floor, next to the bed, kneeling, my baby's head was in the hands of her father, in between my legs.
I'll let that sink in for a moment. Yeah.
At 2:18am, after being picked up off the floor by the nursing staff, and one more giant push, Elliott was born. In case you were counting, that was only 15 minutes after I was told that it was still going to be awhile. All I can say is, for shits sake, SOMETHING about that labor had to happen fast.
In Other News:
Ha ha, f-that. Like there could BE any other news.
-over and out-
