i was supposed to check into the hospital, labor and delivery, at 8:00 pm Tuesday, May 29th. Like most events since becoming a mother to Punkin, I was late. I put in a full day of work, with a goal to leave at 5:00 pm. I made it out by 5:30 pm, with quite a few items remaining on my “to do” list (some important, like a change order, and others not, like a request for quiz hints received this last day). We planned to take Punkin out to dinner (Applebee’s, his second favorite, mainly for the balloons) but the Applebee’s close to our house is closed, boarded-up, kaput. We opted for the next closest Applebee’s, which had several empty tables yet a wait to be seated, and no balloons. My prediction is the Applebee’s chain is going under for failure to provide balloons. Just you watch. There was quite a scene at home with Punkin, with plenty of tears, and requests that we all go to the hospital together and get Peanut. Eventually we showed up at labor and delivery closer to 8:45 pm. Not like they were going to start without me.
So i check into triage, and fill out a pink sheet roughly 5 x 7 (landscape) with about a dozen boxes for information. They included “last menstral period” and “due date” and how far along i was, so i did not have to go through the agony of the stupid wheel one more time. That’s it. No wonder they let just anyone have a baby. The nurses laughed when my response to “Why are you here?” consisted of “Cervical ripening”. Not a good sign. One of the triage nurses said she never heard it put that way … that’s what my ob-gyn called it; that’s what they call it in “What to Expect” … what am i supposed to say … they are going to put in a chemical tampon?
Labor and delivery triage was busy (el Jefe' kept commenting: “Business is good.”) so we sat in the waiting area for probably over an hour watching network TV shows neither of us had even heard of. My first L & D nurse, Ruth, eventually came and got us and put us in Room 4 (even though the computer was supposedly slow). She started an IV after repeating how my veins were so easy to find, yet complaining that they’re all crooked (because i have valves, and i think the only thing we can blame there is good ol’ advanced maternal age); suffice to say, this IV site was to get a lot of use, and she got it the first try, but it wasn’t pretty, without blood loss, or painless. At this point, i was in the gown, i’ve got both the external fetal heart rate and contraction monitors, but i was able to get up and use the rest room on my own free will (sorry, but that is important to me.)
Around 11:00 pm Ruth began the cervical ripening, but not without a final trip to the bathroom since I was going to be bedridden (only for the next 2 hours, but still…). She did tell me we have a very happy baby, judging by the monitors. Internal check (for those of you who have never had kids, this is done MANUALLY and frequently): my cervix had thinned, and was closed, as it had been for the previous 3 weeks. A few minutes into the ripening, i sent el Jefe' home. The process was rather like watching paint dry, and they weren’t planning on starting Pitocin until i had ripened for 12 hours. He left and i dozed on and off (mostly off) for the obligatory 2 hours. Once Ruth returned and released me from the bed, i of course went to the bathroom and opted for the 10 mg of Ambien offered to me. It did absolutely nothing. Needless to say, i saw the story about Andrew Speaker and his TB about every 8 minutes throughout my hospital stay.
Shortly after 7:00 am i called el Jefe' and Punkin (“No new baby yet.”) Ruth finished her shift and i met my new L & D nurse, Tammy. Tammy had an improved command of the English language and a drier sense of humor … we got along fabulously. We talked about kids, and birth experiences (17 hours with Punkin; she said she could beat that), and potential names (Chloe is regaining in popularity, and the family controversy over Stuart). She gave me a tray of hospital breakfast, which really was terrific, since the supposed “benefit” of cervical ripening is that you can eat and walk around (and hence, go to the bathroom). With the other induction drugs and interventions, you eventually lose your rights, so i nearly devoured the breakfast as quickly as i could. My gyn-ob showed up with half a muffin to go (i had saved the best for last). Another internal check with no change: my cervix was paper thin, but closed. i was having a couple contractions every hour, but nothing worth breathing about. My ob-gyn opted to skip the full 12 hours of ripening and get the party started with Pitocin. i never did get to finish that other half of muffin.
He started with an amnio hook. The hope was if he could get through the tiny hole in my cervix, things would get started. He poked and prodded (mind you all of this is without a stitch of pain medication) and eventually broke my water. Tammy described it as clear with chunks. The chunks were meconium; Peanut had taken a dump, which was the first sign of distress. Everyone (from my ob-gyn, to the maternal-fetal monitoring nurse, to Ruth, Tammy and me), had hoped that my body would get things started (dilation) on its own, whether from all the cervical ripening, having my water break, or all the internal checks. i was fully effaced, but my cervix was still closed.
Then i had a gusher and lost a ton of amniotic fluid. Tammy tried to keep me calm and optimistic, making light of the mess i had made. She inserted a sort of catheter, which would act as an internal contraction monitor and served to replace the lost amniotic fluid (with a saline solution, i believe). It was one of those “get up on the bed with me and poke and prod and …” well frankly, it felt like she was trying to insert a tree trunk inside me, and very deep inside me, possibly poking through the tattoo on my back. She was incredibly proud when she was successful and couldn’t wait to tell the other L & D nurses of her achievement with the patient with the closed cervix. So went the end of my bathroom rights.
She opted not to start the Pitocin right away, since i had been manually manipulated so much, so frequently, again with the hope that my cervix would dilate on its own. We watched the monitors. Sure enough, my contractions came on every two to six minutes, but without regularity. el Jefe' made it back around this time. He got to witness another internal check. Tammy wanted to give me a sympathy 1, but the fact was my cervix was still closed. el Jefe' helped change my gown and some bedding, and change out the rolled up receiving blanket between my legs that acted as a pad to soak up the fluid coming out and going in. i got a dose of Demoral which didn’t do much for the pain (and humiliation) of the internal checks, but i did start to ask some stupid questions.
It was Pitocin on and off until after lunch time. el Jefe' kept changing my bedding and blankets out of the adjacent supply closet (but we began to run out of receiving blankets). He even offered to get me a bed pan (but didn’t know what one looked like). Sometimes Peanut was fine on the monitors, and sometimes not. It seemed like just when they were making progress with labor, Peanut would show some signs of distress, so they’d shut down the Pitocin.
My ob-gyn came by to see how things were progressing and recommended i have an epidural to prevent the agony of more internal checks (he actually described them as torture). For me, yes, they were torture and worse than contractions. Contractions have a limited duration and can be somewhat regular and predictable. Not so with the internal checks. i felt like they were inside me up to the elbow, and i was frustrated because we weren’t getting anywhere. i think we had passed the 17-hour mark (if you count the ripening). So yeah, bring on the epidural.
i guess i pissed off the anesthesiologist because i wanted to use a bed pan before the epidural. Dude, gimme a break. i’m actually asking to use a bed pan. Whatever. i got to use the bed pan, and i got my epidural. He did a good job because i only had two contractions during the insertions. i think he was still mad about the bed pan, though.
Once the epidural kicked in, Tammy went to work. Operation Dilation. Manual. She got me to a 4, which meant four fingers. Pitocin was still on and off. She had me lay on my left side for awhile. When Peanut wasn’t happy, they rolled me to my right side. When Peanut still wasn’t happy, they rolled me kind of onto my stomach in a running position (imagine this nine months pregnant). And when it was all said and done, they shut down the Pitocin.
Peanut’s heart rate actually slowed following the peaks of some contractions. They call it “facing” or “basing” or some word that rhymes with those. It’s not a good thing. Basically there were indications of distress, but without getting inside, they could not be sure what was causing the distress. Tammy set the stage for a possible C-section. Her fourth child was a C-section. She told el Jefe' i was going to need help at home. Period.
My ob-gyn came back and talked about a C-section as well. He and Tammy talked about the women with multiple page birthing plans. Although i assured them i was not one of those women, i honestly felt that sense of failure. But my ob-gyn left the decision to me, to us, with the caution that there were indications that Peanut was in distress. Roughly 20 hours into my hospital adventure, we opted for the surgical route. el Jefe' donned his cap, gown and booties … all i got was a cap.
There were pissing matches between the nurses over who would be with me through the C-section. Tammy stood firm that she would be there. No one knew who would assist my ob-gyn, but supposedly there was someone available. (i got his bill 8 days later … he does not accept Anthem Blue Cross Blue Shield.) (These people actually use the Holiday Inn Express joke a lot, which isn’t funny when you’re the one having surgery.) And then the anesthesiologist that did my epidural was no where to be found (still holding the bed pan against me, no doubt), but they got a team together.
As we entered OR Number 1, they were playing Pink Floyd (comfortably numb). It made me smile. They asked el Jefe' to don his mask. They cranked more juice into my epidural site. They spread my arms like Jesus on the cross and draped me. They started at 6:01 pm. The chord was wrapped tightly around Peanut’s neck twice, and a third time around the shoulders. On Wednesday, May 30th, at 6:07 pm, they delivered our baby girl. i cried when they told me it was a girl. (i probably would’ve cried if it was a boy, too.)
Every child is unique. Every birthing experience is different. This was Lea’s story.
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