If you don't like details, I recommend you skip reading this post. Not that it gets gross or anything, it's just birth-oriented. ;-)
OK, so labor started around 10:30pm, on the 10th. It was definitely different than the intense contractions I had been experiencing for a few weeks, in that they were down lower, radiating from the back (but not your typical "back labor" associated with a posterior baby), and seemed fairly long. I decided to stay in bed for at least an hour to see what would happen next. My biggest fear was getting excited/anxious about the contractions, in turn waking my husband, whose own excitement/nervous energy I wasn't quite ready to share. If it was labor, I wanted to be sure, and I wanted to be alone for part of it, to "get my head in the game" so to speak.
I guess it was around midnight when I decided I couldn't go back to sleep, so I came downstairs and logged onto the computer. I spent some time blog surfing, playing Spider Solitaire (yet again), and timing contractions. They were coming closer together, anywhere from 12 to 7 minutes apart, and I was needing to breathe and focus through them. I kept praying for some sign to appear so I would know I could start alerting folks...you know, the doctor, my mother-in-law, my husband. I decided to post to the blog and to the 4Real Forum, and then a couple of minutes later during a contraction with lots of pressure, there was a pop and a gush. That was my sign...amniotic fluid all over the computer chair (which is pretty ratty to begin with) and onto the floor. I briefly thought about yelling for my husband, but then I calmly decided to call my MIL first. Then I waddled up the stairs, awoke my husband with "my water broke" and proceded to get myself ready. Fortunately the contractions continued. That was at 1:15am.
After we decided everything was set to go, I put a call into the doctor, told him what was going on, and thought it would be best to head on in to the hospital, given that I had been contracting and we wanted to get at least one dose of penicillin for the Group B Strep. Since MIL was well on her way, we woke up the oldest kids to let them know we were heading to the hospital and that the mamaw would be at the house soon. Kind of an odd judgment call, but, well, we really weren't sure how quickly things would go this time and didn't want to risk an unplanned homebirth or a birth on the side of the interstate, so we left with most of the kids asleep. (MIL told me later that when she got to the house, everyone was awake and extremely excited. Oh well.)
Once we got to the hospital, I guess I was put in a triage room to be assessed...it was tiny, and they do all those things they do when you first arrive at the hospital...the monitor, heplock, cervical check. I was 5 cm, but Aidan's heartrate was doing some funky things following the contractions. He was have decelerations, meaning his heartrate would dip significantly following a contraction and took some time getting back up to normal. This was at 2am. Contractions spaced back out to 10 minutes apart, but since my water was broken, I was 5 cm, and his heartrate was doing what it was doing, I was admitted.
To the LDR we went. On my left side I went. IV fluids I received. Oxygen mask I held to my face. It was a miserable period of time between 2am and the shift change at 7am. I hated being on my side the whole time having been used to active and upright labors with most of my others. The contractions I did have were good ones, they just weren't as close together as they should have been to effect much of a change. At around 4am, I had some different contractions...pressure-pushy ones where I would grunt a few times and there'd be gushes of fluid. They called the OB to come into the hospital and the set up the birthing table. I swear I thought the baby was coming down, ready to be born, but noooo. The nurse checked me and I was "a stretchy 6-7". I had more contractions like that, where I'd be all grunty, and still I had no cervical change. It was frustrating. I'm sure they thought I was crazy.
Then at 7am, God sent me an angel who had recently graduated from the midwifery program at the University of Cincinnati. She made the call to get me upright for a trial to see if Aidan wouldn't react more favorably. His heartrate didn't make much of a change (nothing worse, perhaps slightly better), so we did the midwife tricks...hands and knees (which I hated), hanging over the top of the bed (hated), standing by the bed (slightly better, especially when I did a standing squat during contractions). We chit-chatted about local midwives we've known and loved in between contractions. Birth ball (eh, OK). We talked about how Aidan was probably tangled in his cord. We talked about my last hospital birth and how pitocin was my best friend when I thought I wanted an epidural. Aha! 8am, and she says, "How do you feel about trying that again?" I said, "Well, I wish I had said something sooner, but I kind of assumed with the heartrate thing it might have been a no-go." Apparently not.
So, I started out with a slow drip, and it definitely had the same effect as last time I was in the hospital. Nice, effective contractions, coming around 5-7 minutes apart. This I can do, I thought. I should note, no other cervical checks were done after the one around 4am. I figured, if I had been around 7 then, I would certainly make progress with these contractions, and I would know when it was time to push on my own. After an hour, the drip was increased. I decided to make a last trip to relieve my bladder. Ohhh, the toilet was soooo niiiiiiice. :-) The rocking chair less so, but I moaned through the whopper contraction as I felt like I was squishing Aidan's noggin. Then I decided to get back on the bed. I think it was about 2 more contractions on the bed and, holy crow the kid's head is crowning get the doctor in here right NOW...well, that's what my head was saying, but all I could manage to utter was something like, "Ohhh, ow, ow, heeeellllllp, oh, God, oh, oh!"
I saw the nurse rush out and wag her finger, beckoning Dr. Hands Off to come do his job. My eyes were closed for the rest of the deal. I remember letting go of the bed rail and my husband's hand to raise my fanny off the bed (which hadn't been broken down)...an instinctual move to aid in the tailbone moving out of the way. And somehow I managed to get my second leg bent and in a better position when I heard the doctor say something about, "Yeah, there's the cord around the neck...hold it, now push. We need to get the second shoulder....deep breath and push." And, blessed relief. 9:15am. Aidan James entered this big bright world, covered from head to foot in vernix...my cheesy boy. And in true Dr. Hands Off fashion, he noted the superficial laceration and said, "Just keep your legs together, you don't need stitches." Thanks doc, you rock.
