Part 2 of 3 (Read Part 1 here)
The nurse came in with a nurse training in labor and delivery. I had two nurses! It was quite awesome. When one nurse was busy charting the other could help me or do another task. My care was efficient and expedited because of the extra set of hands. I was also the training nurse’s first delivery. Pretty cool because with my oldest I also had a gal’s first delivery too. Most importantly, the nurses and I connected immediately. Praise God!
Pretty soon after the nurses started their work in my room, my doctor came in. This was a blessing because I was nervous toward the end of this pregnancy that he wouldn’t be there to deliver. Of course, it all worked out as planned and he was there. So now I had my people. The people that would have my well-being at the forefronts of their minds. I didn’t have to worry. My OB introduced the nurses to me and wagered the baby would be born around noon. During my initial exam, he stripped my membranes. Then we talked about how I wanted was a slice of Snickers cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory delivered to my room. This pregnancy I was a diet and exercise controlled gestational diabetic. So he knew my excitement at the prospect of something super sweet. He pulled out his phone and showed me that there were delivery options from restaurants to the hopsital.
How stickin’ awesome. I may get my cheesecake after all!
I hadn’t eaten or drank since midnight the night before. My normally visible veins were lost in the dehydration of my skin. The first attempts at inserting an IV in my hand rendered me passed out due to my vasovagal syncope and the needle fishing around for the lost vein. I reassured the nurses they could put the IV in my arm so long as they didn’t fish anymore. Told them, “You can stick me a million times, just don’t move that needle in my body.” After seeing how dehydrated I was, the one nurse gave me a popsicle to help with my hydration and blood sugars.
Finally, the IV was set. The Pitocin and saline were running and the cramping started. The cramping quickly turned into full-on contractions. I called for my epidural. Within minutes the anesthesiologist was in my room ready to provide relief. I was already self-conscious about my bad breath from not eating or drinking that morning, but sitting up the contractions were coming hard enough I had to focus my breathing more. Thus, I was blowing my nasty breath in the nurse’s face. I felt so bad for her!
Epidural was in and almost immediately I couldn’t feel my feet and I let the nurses know. My doctor came in and He broke my water. I lost all feeling in my legs.
The nurses had me roll to move the medicine around, thinking it was just set in the wrong spot and not moved around to even out the effects. Every time they moved the bed to sit me up I got nauseous and threw up. I threw up that red popsicle at least three of the five puke sessions.
Eventually, the epidural crept up to my chest. I couldn’t feel anything from my chest down. Couldn’t wiggle my toes, move my legs, and breathing got very difficult. My blood pressure dropped to around 85/53 and the second time it dropped even lower so the nurse gave me a shot of ephederine. After that, my blood pressures went back up and stayed.
The anesthesiologists came in to turn my epidural down because I was still so numb. Around 1pm I still couldn’t feel anything. I told the nurses to just shut off the epidural completely. Come to find out my epidural was placed in the wrong spinal pocket. More news on the effects of this later.
The Pitocin had been consistently turned up and the contractions were very strong. I may have celebrated when I started to feel them. That meant I’d be able to move my legs soon. Then my toes. I could wiggle them! The contractions were solid though. It was 2:24pm. The doc asked me to push to see if I was ready. That pushing against the pain of contractions was some sweet relief. He told me to stop and raced around the corner to put on his gown. At 2:25pm I started pushing. At 2:29 he was here… in 3 pushes. 4 minutes.
Little did I know this laboring period was the physical start to my very literal season of rest, recovery, and release.