September 21, 2011. The day of my scheduled induction, I was giddy, anxious, nervous, and humbled all at the same time. Within the next two days (hopefully), I would be holding my sweet boy in my arms.
After 39 weeks and three days, I finally would get to meet the [little] man of my dreams. I was on cloud 9. Well, I was up until I got a call from the hospital. They were calling to inform me that they wanted to cancel my appointment for induction due to a possible nurses strike.
Are you kidding me?!
It was like someone had told me there was no Santa. I was devastated.
I asked the woman on the phone if she had spoken with my doctor and she had informed me that she had not. Furious, I hung up the phone and called my doctor. After speaking with her for several minutes, she assured me that she would call the hospital and tell them that they were not calling off the induction and that in the event of a nurses strike, if I wasn't in active labor by the next morning they would send me home.
Satisfied, I went through the rest of my day anxious and scared. My hospital bag had been packed for a few weeks but I put in the rest of my personal items and threw it in the car. I tried to distract myself by watching reruns of CSI and cleaning the house, but naturally my mind kept wandering to the fear of childbirth. I kept having to remind myself that I am strong and could get through it. When seven o'clock rolled around I was a hot mess. I was to nervous to eat and all I wanted to do was get to the hospital.
I should have eaten.
We left shortly after, knowing that we would be leaving as a couple, returning as a family.
When we arrived to the hospital at a quarter to eight I was almost shaking. I think the thing about naturally going into labor is you don't really have time to think about it whereas having an induction or a C section, you have nothing but time to think. I was excited knowing that my son would be joining us in this world and I was smiling as we entered the hospital.
We checked in and the nurse got me settled in my room. Between 8 PM and 10 PM several nurses came in and out, all of them not to thrilled that I was there. My doctor had warned me that this may happen, that the nurses at the hospital may be confused as to why she authorized the induction, but she told me to just ignore them and think of my son.
To say I dealt with some rude nurses would be an understatement.
I wasn't to happy that night. At 10:00pm they finally inserted the cream to get things started and told me to get some rest and in the morning they would start the pitocin. Mr. Hunky and I hardly slept that night and when I would finally drift to sleep I would be awoken by a nurse checking on me.
At a little before 6:00am I got up to use the restroom, then crawled back into bed to try to sleep. When I tried to roll on my right side, I felt a small pop in my womanly parts and was a little concerned. I called in the nurse and she checked me and said I was fine. She hadn't reached the door before I called her back quickly; my water started gushing and she told me the obvious- my water had broke.
Having my water break was a strange feeling.
No one had ever told me what it would feel like so when it happened it was weird. I wasn't a fan to say the least. When the nurse checked my water, she told me that there was meconium in the water (Baby A went poop!) and that when the baby was born they would need to suction his lungs to avoid infection. That piece of news scared me but I trusted the hospital staff to take care of us.
Since my water had broken, I had no risk of being sent home. Within an hour they had started me on pitocin and the waiting game had begun.
I had decided to go with getting an epidural prior to going to the hospital. My pain tolerance typically isn't very high and I honestly just wanted to have a comfortable experience. The anesthesiologist visited my room at around nine or ten am to give me my epidural. At that time I was 2CM dilated and my contractions were mild. I was pretty nervous to get an epidural because I heard that it is very painful, the needle is huge, and it can cause a great deal of pain in your spine if not done correctly, so when the anesthesiologist was prepping me for it, I was literally shaking. Thankfully, it was over in under a minute and I was able to lay down and relax.
Throughout the day I was able to doze on and off, but I was finding it increasingly difficult as my stomach grew emptier. It seemed like everyone was eating in front of me and considering I didn't have dinner the night before, or anything throughout the day, every bite my family was taking was making me grumpier! I was checked throughout the day and I was gradually increasing dilation, praying with every second that my little man would be on his way out.
Family members came in and out visiting me, wishing me luck, and telling me how excited they were. Their excitement level couldn't even touch the level of irritation that was within me with ever single tick of the clock passing and no baby in my arms.
At about ten to six a nurse came in and I was about six and a half centimeters dilated. She told me it would still be a while and to relax. At six thirty, my body was screaming at me to push so I called for the nurse and she came in telling me to relax and that I still had a while to go. After telling her twice that it was time, she checked me again, and quickly called the head nurse. Low and behold, it was time to push.
The next three and half hours were a blur.
After I had started to push my doctor arrived and took over. I was so thankful to see a familiar face and I felt calmer knowing that she would be the one delivering, guaranteed now. By the time I began pushing, my epidural had completely worn off and I felt everything. My mom was on the left of me holding my leg, Mr. Hunky in the right, and I pushed with everything that I had to get that baby out.
When the doctors told me to stop pushing and relax, I literally couldn't. My body pushed non stop, using up every ounce of energy I could give.
My right leg kept cramping and getting charlie horses which was almost more excruciating than the childbirth. All I wanted was my baby to come out. Baby A just did not want to move. I pushed for another hour before my doctor started eyeing the clock, which I knew wasn't a good sign. I mustered up all of the energy and power I could and pushed with everything that I had. Within two more contractions he was out, my sweet baby boy was born. The doctor quickly cut the cord and passed him off to the team of pediatricians standing by in the room to suction his lungs.
I was petrified and disappointed that Mr. Hunky wasn't the one to have cut the cord, and that I didn't get to hold my baby in my arms directly after he was out of the womb. I was scared for my baby, but I was also so exhausted that all I could do was lay lifelessly and watch from across the room.
Thankfully the team of pediatricians that were in the room moved quickly, suctioning Baby A's lungs, confirming that everything was ok. Within five minutes they had him in my arms.
He was perfect and I was so in love.
7 pounds, 19 1/2 inches of love was in my arms after almost ten long months. Fifteen hours of active labor, three and a half hours of delivery, and over twenty four hours of time at the hospital to bring him into the world. I was smitten, to say the least.
The doctors and nurses were wonderful, the stitched me up and sent me and my baby boy to a private room to rest. The morning would be crazy with visitors so we needed some sleep. Ironically enough, I didn't sleep. Adrenaline was still pumping and I was much to in love to close my eyes.
The nurses were wonderful and took amazing care of me. Many came in just to congratulate me on such a trying delivery. I was informed by my doctor that if Baby A hadn't come out within the next five minutes they would have pulled me into emergency C Section. I am so thankful that I didn't have to do that.
Visitors came and went, and we were finally released to go home a few days later. Mr. Hunky and I were so excited to take our son home. He drove like a grandma as I sat in the back cursing those who flew by us on the freeway. When we got home, he helped me out of the car and grabbed the carseat, then we walked through our front door as a family.
I can confidently say that being induced was the worst mistake I have made in my life. I know now that Little Mister would have come on his own, when he was ready, and that it was selfish of me to have rushed him. Being that it was my first pregnancy all I could think about was how much I wanted him out and how uncomfortable I was in those last few days. If my doctor had not been the one to deliver him, it wouldn't have been the worst thing in the world like I thought it would have been. Being induced made for a long delivery and I will never make the mistake of being induced again, unless there is a medical necessity for it. Please do not leave comments that are rude or judgmental of my decision. Thank you.
How was your labor and delivery?