THE BIRTH STORY.

At our final OB appointment, on November 11th, it became apparent that everyone, including our OB, was increasingly concerned with the size of our baby.  My belly had increased from "cute" to "holyshit,motherfucker!" and I was suffering from a separated pubic bone (read:  PAIN.)  So, it was decided that I would be induced on Sunday November 17th.

At 4am that Sunday, I rose and collected my belongings.  The Hub and I made our way to the hospital and checked-in.  It took a while, but I was eventually hooked up to monitors and plugged into a giant IV of Pitocin.  For those of you unawares, this is the hellish liquid that induces labor.  It is a hormone that your body makes (Oxytocin) for such an occasion.  Typically, they will increase your "units" by one every hour - up to 20 until you deliver (We'll get to this. . .)

Through the afternoon, I managed to dilate from my steady 4cm to 5cm.  In the early evening, I made it another half a centimeter before my pubic pain got so bad that I asked for the epidural.  Let me explain something, people.  My birth plan (which means nothing in the face of adversity) was to go natural.  I was going to have a quick delivery with no issue.  Really.  My pain tolerance is enormous and I can breathe through stress with the best of them.  So, believe me when I tell you that asking for the epidural was a last resort.  I was sitting on a birthing ball, trying to coax my junk open just a little further, leaking fluid ALL OVER THE FLOOR. . . and I felt like my pubic bone was cracked down the middle and ripping outwards. Pleasant picture.

Over night, the epidural became my nightmare.  I had searing pins and needles combined in a complete inability to move my legs on my own.  The Hub rang for the nurse an I writhed around trying to feel anything but pain in my legs and feet.  The anesthesiologist came quickly and temporarily turned off the epidural pump.  It was theorized that a pre-bedtime bolus bump of medicine caused my reaction - so we would have to be extra careful in the future (we'll get to this, and it ain't gonna be pretty.)

The next day, Monday November 18th, I was still just at 6cm.  A call to my OB yielded quick, but horrific results (more story to come).  Since I was already at 20 units of Pitocin per hour, I was bumped up to 30. Seriously.  We jumped to 30.  But, at noon, I was completely dilated, contracting, and ready to birth!

Before I knew it, I had been pushing for two and a half hours!  The time flies when you are focused.  I credit the nurse, my Hub, and our persistence for the quiet room and calm surroundings.  The Hub was able to lean in an see the hair on our baby's head!  The nurse, however, was able to lean in and see that there was no way our broad little man was going to come out the old fashioned way.

Our OB arrived and very frankly informed me that the baby wasn't physically able to move past my pelvis. Despite our desire to have a natural vaginal birth, we would need to go to the OR for a C Section.

Here is where the fun comes back from the evenings epidural crazy. . .

The anesthesiologists did not want to put my body back into the awful state of the night before, so they proceeded as slowly as they could with the medicine.  I was rolled into the OR and a tent was constructed in front of me to block the shock inducing sights that no woman should ever see while she is experiencing it.

There was some pretty intense tugging feeling and then I heard my baby cry.  The Hub hopped up and the nurse brought the baby for tests and measures.  21.5" long and 10lbs5oz.  I gave birth to two babies' worth of baby.  A true man child.

Of course, nothing can be easy. . . about the time the pain came rushing back, I spoke out loud to my OB through the curtain, "whatever you are doing right now. . . FUCKING hurts."  He responded, "where is it hurting, Suzi?"  I calmly directed him to my lower right abdomen. . and then it seemed like everyone in the OR started moving VERY quickly.  I guess I got it right.  They were working on sewing me back together when the anesthesia wore off.  My anesthesiologist appeared over my left shoulder and pumped something cool into my epidural.  Crisis averted.

The baby scored a perfect 10 on his APGAR - partially due to the fact that he wasn't just pink and wriggly at birth but RED.  Bright screaming red.  And healthy.  Mama was proud.  And then, he latched on like a pro.  We will discuss more about breast feeding in later posts. .

It has been 11 days and we are home.  And adjusting.  Clearly, my blogging has been affected (it has taken me four hours to type this.)  But, I will carve out more time in the future.