. . . and gets an epidural?
Well here's birth story number 14. Or something like it. And I can pretty much guarantee there will be something gross or an image you don't want stuck in your head somewhere here, so if you are too young to vote, you should probably have your mom read this before you do.
Let's see. Thinking Sound of Music, "Let's start at the very beginning . . . " My due date is, well, tomorrow. But because I have been drinking Red Raspberry Leaf Tea like a lush for most of my pregnancy and because I've been taking Evening Primrose Oil capsules in increasing amounts for the last 3 weeks, and because I did that with my last pregnancy and went into labor on my own 4 days early then, I have had in my head that I might have the baby as early as Monday (3 days ago) and have been watching for it. Also, frankly, the whole world was already at a grinding halt for Christmas and New Year's, and I thought I'd rather have a baby when everything was already stopped than to have to start everything back up again only to grind to a halt again (or worse yet, for everything to keep on moving with or without me).
In addition, my blood pressure was climbing. For my last two deliveries, I was on Labetalol for my high blood pressure for the last few weeks and that kept it under control. This time, because it wasn't as bad, my ob put me on a lower dose. But in the evenings it eventually got worse. At that point I really thought he would induce and was ready for it. But he offered to add a 3rd 100mg dose in between. Brilliant, I said! Gives me a chance to do this without Pitocin, a known evil.
After 2 whole days with the extry pill, I had a night, which we'll call Saturday, because that is when it was, when my bowels just emptied all night, in a way that reminded me of my last pre-labor. But no contractions. S'ok. Then in the morning, say 5:30, I start having some sporadic but labory contractions. Not sure whether to go in, I take my blood pressure, thinking it might be high if I'm in labor, and it is convincingly through the roof (158/106, I think). I call my ob and we decide I should go in.
Did I mention it was in the first few hours of what we in the midwestern United States are affectionately calling "Snowmageddon", aka, a once in 30 years snow storm followed by unheard of low temperatures, the Polar Vortex? Yeah. It was that. So that also made us think we should get in there. (It also means that my desire to have a baby while everything was stopped has worked out well, because everything is still stopped - we still have a foot of snow on our road, everything has been cancelled this week. Nice.)
Measuring my current contractions against previous experience, I sort of expected to be around 4, maybe 6 centimeters. I was not surprised when the nurses were unimpressed by my mood (which was good) but quite impressed (in a bad way) by my blood pressure. So my chart says I came in for high blood pressure but not really in labor. Because I was at a 2. Which did surprise me. I had been at 2 for a week. 2 meant, to them, that my contractions weren't real, I wasn't in labor, and that I had to be induced. After a tiny pity party/wrestling match, pitocin was started.
Ok, I think, because I have a grand and glorious nurse named Laura, who is totally on my side. I got to labor, on pitocin, with continuous (more or less) fetal monitoring, in the shower, for hours. It was a dream come true. Really. Because I sortof like a longer labor, alone (I was alone in the shower) with time to connect with the Lord and pray through contractions. I had wanted to listen to my music (never done that before either) and did. It was great.
Except for the part where I did not progress. At all. The baby was high. So high they had to stick their arm half way in to try to figure out how dilated I was. This did not change. Ever.
I was like a midwifery student in labor, practicing ev-ry-position-known-to-woman for working the baby down. Nada. I went about 10 hours doing my labor thing, starting from 5:30 (when I still maintain my labor started; remember, the reason I'm not in labor is because I wasn't progressing, um, like I'm also not progressing now on pit, you mean?) going to 2:30, at which time (with some more wrestling) we agree to have my water broken. Super Laura thought she felt fingers or something on the head, maybe that was keeping baby up? Ok, we do that. Labor on birth ball for another hour, all expecting that with the water broken and the fingers out of the way, this should really do it.
Nope. Nothing. Labor more in shower, but with more effort because of internal monitor (external kept slipping), trying to keep the dang thing dry, and eventually give that up.
I'm out of coping mechanisms, getting no where, it is 5:30, and Laura is going home. My new nurse is named Jen, looks like Nancy Kerrigan (Olympic ice skater from the 80's), is so composed and classy and aloof and I'm pretty sure she hates me. I was wrong, of course. I ask for an epidural, but inside I am afraid this is going to land me in the o.r. with a C-section. How is this baby going to come down with me laying in bed if it hasn't when I've been pretending to be a contortionist? But I didn't know what else to do. [Best epidural I've had, by the way. This was my 4th child with one, but I've had one placed 2 other times, just delivered before the medicine was turned on. This one was great - Joyce was awesome!]
(This story is nearly over, promise.)
But Jen, who is also super, has brilliant ideas. She has me put my now mostly dead leg straight and behind me and my top leg is flopped unnaturally over a huge peanut shaped exercise ball on alternating sides, and that plus about 30 people praying, convinces the baby to move down some, enough. I labored on a low dose for about 4 hours. We never really got past 8, and the head never descended very far down, but we got near enough for somebody who has already pushed a dozen heads down the same chute to give it a whirl, with significant doctor help.
And whirl we did. It was not my prettiest delivery, but was certainly satisfying. My body has some aching muscles that I was unaware of, my back is sore from the epidural, but I am (through most of this writing) nursing a lovely and healthy and somewhat bruised baby boy. Although the EPO and the RRL tea didn't make my labor quick or effective (it was the opposite of both) I think they helped me start when I needed to and be able to do what I did, and I am absolutely convinced that my uterus has healed up well because of it. I had no stitches, no tearing, and I think I am recovering nicely. A nurse was checking my belly and I asked how it was, she said this is what we want everybody to do. My 42 year old uterus that has held 13 babies, setting the example for all the other uteri on clamping down! Too old for nothing.
I know lots of crunchy natural moms probably could give me advice on how to do it better, but I am convinced that for me and my body and this pregnancy, I did my best. I am content with it, and thankful.
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