War Stories and Battle Wounds

All the mothers tell me that you soon forget the pains of pregnancy and labor--it's nature's way of making sure you will do it again. I have always responded to that statement by saying, but I am not a forgetful person...I hold grudges. However, each day the battle wounds heal a little more, and as I look at my precious little baby, I realize that it may truly be possible to forget just how bad it all was. Hence, this posting. Just more than a week out from labor, the memory is still fresh enough to document. Plus, several of my pregnant friends and new mothers (who have not yet completely forgotten themselves) are curious. Therefore, if you don't want to hear the gory details, please ignore this post and go back to looking at the adorable photos of the little monkey.

Now, I believe I have adequately documented how I felt about pregnancy. It was not my favorite thing. But no matter how much I complained that I just wanted Liv to come out, I was taken by surprise when it finally happened. Here is my account of delivery day:

I awoke at 7:00 a.m. Thursday morning with mild contractions that were coming fairly regularly. I know there was supposed to be some "pre-labor" along the way, but I must have slept through that. I went to the guest room to wake up Sean. (He had taken to sleeping in the guest room because of my snoring--hmmpph.) As I sat on the side of the bed with a moan, he jokingly asked "are you having a baby today?" "I think so," I responded. He did not believe me (something about crying wolf). Luckily, I had a doctor's appointment at 10:00. By the time I got there, I knew I was in labor, even though Sean still had his doubts. Dr. Hooi confirmed that I was indeed having a baby that day, but not soon. We went home, got our stuff together, made some much-anticipated phone calls and emails, etc.

By the time we headed to the hospital at 12:30, the contractions were becoming slightly painful, but not unbearable. Within an hour of arriving at the hospital, I was asking for the epidural. The pain was bad enough that I knew I didn't need to experience any more. Dr. Hooi was not on call, but Dr. Bushart was (he was my second choice). Turns out that he is absolutely fabulous, and I couldn't have asked for a better doctor to deliver Olivia. I feel that I handled most of the process with dignity, except for the insertion of the IV. By luck of the draw, I got a rookie nurse (a male nurse) who had trouble finding a vein. After he jabbed around in my hand for what seemed like eternity, I nearly passed out (we're talking oxygen and cold compresses). So when they finally understood that I wanted the epi NOW, I was a little concerned that I would pass out for real. But since I had no idea what they were doing and I couldn't feel it, I handled it just fine.

Within minutes I was singing a happy song. Epidurals are great! It is about this time that my parents and sister arrived. Spirits were good all around. Dark clouds descended, however, a few hours later. I started to feel some "pressure" down below. "Is this normal," I asked. "Yes, yes. You want to be able to feel something so you can push," I was told (luckily the nurses had changed shifts by now and Keith the male nurse was no where to be found). The "pressure" became more and more intense--certainly not normal, I concluded, as I had experienced the true value of an epi and this was not it. The anethesiologist came in and gave me another dose (the "industrial strength" stuff, he called it), and said it should kick in within 10 minutes. Ten minutes came and went, but the pain stayed and worsened. We call him back. Seems that the catheter for the epi had come out of the epidural space and the medicine was not going where it needed to go. Two options--go without or redo the whole epidural. By this time, I was crying with pain, Sean was threatening to smoke after 8 months of non-smoking, and my parents were wringing their hands with worry.

I choose to have the whole epi reinserted. Good choice--within minutes I was back to my happy place. I slept and watched TV through the rest of the labor until the nurse came it at 8:30 p.m. and said it was time to push. I had been in the hospital for more than 8 hours, but I was still shocked by this. Having only felt a little over an hour of true pain, I couldn't imagine that I was almost done. I only pushed for about 45 minutes. Thank God for the epidural because my body was not as accommodating as it should have been. Liv's little head was also proof of that. When the nurse plopped her on my chest, my first words were "oh my, look at her head!"

Sean handled it all with ease. He even cut the cord! He and my mom each held a leg while I pushed. My sister watched the whole thing. My dad sat in the corner so as not to see too much, but he was able to see Olivia's entrance into the world. All in all, labor and delivery was not horrible with an epidural. Or, in my case, three epidurals. I know that I could never had done it without the drugs. Unfortunately, my recovery will be long and painful. But as all mothers will tell you, it is worth it, and this I believe.