The Gory Details: Part 2 (8AM Saturday until 4AM Sunday)

Again, if you don't like gory details of birth stories, this is not the post for you.

The difference between the birth center and the hospital was a shock. Instead of the homey birthing suite with queen-sized bed, we're in this stripped down formica and plastic room about the size of my old cubicle. C, J, and T all barely fit in the room. The nurse feels like it's her job to personally judge me for having gone to a birthing center; she argues with the legitimacy of my records from the birth center because "this says your water broke 1AM Friday and that can't possibly be right." No, you've got four intelligent people here who have all been awake for most of the night and can tell you my water didn't break eight hours ago. Bitch.

I've got an IV in an incredibly painful and movement-restricting point on the inside of my left wrist and I'm tethered to the EFM and the Pit pump. They're throwing forms and disclosures at us left and right to sign; C and I refuse to sign anything until we've read them which seems to annoy the nasty nurse. I balk at giving permission for all "labor and delivery procedures" and the nurse is annoyed when we ask what that covers, exactly, and doesn't answer anything but direct questioning (i.e., "Does this cover a C-section, yes or no?"), can't be bothered to explain. We're both incredibly tired and my contractions slow to 7-9 minutes apart, probably due to the hostility of the nurse and the strangeness of the situation. The nurse insists that we weren't really in labor before the Pitocin, which is not what you want to hear on your second day of labor.

The Pitocin kicks in around 9AM and I have really strong, vicious contractions. At first, I'm bound and determined to not have any pain meds. But I am just not able to move; even the slightest movement on my part disconnects the EFM and shows up as "baby in distress" at the nurses' station. If I keep disconnecting it, I am told by nasty nurse, they will have to assume the baby's in distress. (Note: for the entire labor, the baby's heartrate never dropped below 135 and was in the 140s most of the time. That is peachy perfect.) The nurse keeps scolding me to keep my eyes open and focus on one thing and breathe. I have been relaxing lovely well for the last 24 hours and don't feel like being scolded.

I get an epidural about 12:30, but I first talk to the nice doctor and tell him I want an epidural for the purpose of still delivering vaginally by getting some sleep and rest before I have to push, that I want the lowest dose possible to minimize effects on the baby, and that I want to be able to turn it off before pushing so I can feel my contractions. He was kind and gracious and at that point, I was re-energized by being treated like a human being instead of an irrational, irresponsible, crazy birth-in-the-bushes wacko. He even tolerates the questions of all four of us and calls questions the sign of intelligence. I take a nap and C gets something to eat, for which I am profoundly grateful for J and T being there since he wouldn't have left me without T staying behind. There's meuconium in the amniotic waters now, so we're going to have to have a pediatric team there when he's born. I am elated because that means the kid has an anus and it works.

I'm fully dialated at a little before 6. We turn off the epidural. I push until a little after 9PM. (I did turn the epidural back on at 8PM - pain was still most vicious in my back). T stepped out. J and C helped me push and the nasty nurse was relegated to someone else's labor, thank God. I got a wonderful L&D nurse (two with a shift change, actually) who was encouraging and sweet. It really makes the world of difference to have people around you who say, "Yes, you can do this." At the end of three hours of pushing with contractions about 2 to 3 minutes apart, the kid has not moved significantly, although we are getting glimpses of the head, which thrill J and C.

At 9PM, the doctor says the kid is most probably stuck; we can opt for a trial vacuum extraction which may not work (and may require an episiotomy) or the C-section. C and I discuss it and opt for the C-section. I'm exhausted and the prospect of an episotomy and a C-section is more than I can think of bearing at this point.

C-sections get the kid out fast; it was like there was a C-section pit crew. Epidural gets bumped up, catheter goes in, some surgical prep, and boom, down the hall we go to the OR. It was the fastest procedure we had done the whole time. Happily, the nice nurse asked what kinds of things we wanted to happen at the birth and all of them were adhered to: C to hold baby ASAP, baby not to leave at least one of our sights, breastfeeding as soon as possible with no bottles or pacifiers; rooming in and C to stay in hospital with me as much as possible.

Our beautiful boy was born at 10:07PM; the nice L&D nurse actually had to push him back up to extract him. We were worried the epidurals would have made him groggy, but he was beautifully bright-eyed and alert. Apgar scores were 9 and 9; I'm hoping to find out what the point off was for this week at our checkup. C told me the gender since we didn't know ahead of time - I was glad since I had forgotten to tell the doctor not to announce it, that I wanted C to tell me. The pediatric team worked fast - no problems at all - and C was holding our son within five minutes. I shook violently and was freezing throughout. A gripped my finger with his little hand and I fell asleep on the OR table not long after that. It took about 45 minutes to put me back together again.

I got wheeled into the recovery room around 11PM. A was still quietly alert and breastfed like a champ. His head was unevenly lopsided on top, so it looked to me like he really had been stuck. Then he had to go to the nursery for the routine drill and a bath; C went with him. I can't say enough about our friends at this point; J stayed with me and T went back and forth between the two groups spreading information. I was released to the Family Birth Unit at midnight and dozed there off and on with J and T until C came back with the baby.

A spent four hours under the warmers in the nursery so his body temperature could register 98.6 so they could bathe him; C sat by his side the whole time. We were utterly exhausted at the end of it. I feel bad for J and T since they just stuck with us for two days even when it would have been easy to say, "Yep, kid's out; time for us to go." They didn't leave us until C, A, and I were all back together in one room again.

We were in the hospital until Wednesday afternoon. The nurses were all super and I can't say enough about the kindnesses they showed us. We were put in a double room so we could have a bed for C and they didn't put anyone in the room with us the whole time, even when they had a record 22 women there. I'm told they try to do that for C-section patients, but I think it was also due to the dedication C showed the whole time - it's hard not to notice a big guy sitting by a warmer with a tiny baby in the nursery for four hours straight from midnight until 4AM.

So now we're home. Life revolves around little A-man here; he eats, poops, sleeps, and then the whole cycle starts again. The entire labor seems pretty surreal now, but I keep thinking, oh yes, that did happen. I've got the best evidence in the world to say so.