Labor Waves and Missing Husbands
Luckily, as we walked into the hospital, there was my doctor. I was relieved to see him.
"My water broke," I said to him.
He smiled positively. "Well, then it looks like you're gonna have a baby. Let's check you out."
Off to triage we went. The first thing I wanted to know is whether the baby's head was down. The last thing I wanted was another breech birth.
"Her head is down," he said.
I signed with relief. It was probably the only thing I felt relief about. My mind kept going back ten years ago to gavache tubes, and NICU units, and days and days of waiting for a pre-mie to come home.
I was admitted. Tony filled the papers out. "We are going to give you a magnesium-sulfide drip," said the doctor. "I know you've had this before." We want to see if we can stop the labor. If this works, you may have to go home with an I.V. We'll see what happens."
In the room, Tony slept in a miserably uncomfortable sofa couch. When morning approached, things were looking okay. I had no contractions.
Tony was so tired he could barely function. I told him to go home, and get some rest. I was doing fine.
So there I laid in the bed, waiting again. I tried to distract myself with the TV. I called my parents. I called my mother-in-law. I tried to sleep, to no avail. Toward the end of the day, the phone rang.
It was Tony. "Is there anything you want?" he asked
My mouth was as dry as dirt. "Yeah, I said. I want popsicles. An entire box."
"Did you check with the doctor to see if that is okay?"
I hadn't eaten much of anything. I was afraid if I had any complications and needed surgery, and if had a full stomach, I would have problems. "Just bring the box," I told him, "and we'll figure it out when you get here."
Turned out I could have the Popsicles. I think I ate at least four. A few friends came by to see if I needed anything. So far, so good, no contractions.
Everybody went home. I was alone again. But I was calm and feeling okay. I actually thought I might be able to sleep.
I was woken up around midnight. "The doctor is taking you off the magnesium-sulfide," said the nurse. "The baby's heart rate is slowing."
I felt my stomach twist. "What happens if I go into labor?"
The nurse didn't answer me as she disconnected the I.V.
Within a hour I was having contractions. This went on through the night.
If you've had a child, you know that labor comes in waves. They start, they peak, they release. And being hooked up to a labor monitor, you can see just how the contractions do this. Throughout the night, I watched the monitor. When I saw a peak coming, I would breathe into it. Breathe, and release, breathe and release, like riding a wave. I kept this image in my head, ebbing and flowing through my mind.
At 6am, the labor just stopped.
I was checked. Still only one centimeter dilated. That was a good thing, or at least I thought it was.
I actually ate some solid food for a change, figuring I would be going home. But an hour or so later, they came in with another I.V. bag. "The doctor is going to give you pitocin to start up and regulate the contractions," she said. "He feels that the best thing for you and the baby is for you to have the baby today."
I didn't want pitocin I knew women that had it, and it makes the labor harder, and more intense. I started feeling real fear.
I can't give a reason as to why what happened next happened. God, mother nature, whatever you believe. But before they could hook up the pitocin I.V., the labor started again on its own.
And this was no wave. This was standing out in a tidal wave, getting knocked over, and over and over. It was so intense I couldn't breathe.
They checked me again. Within 15 minutes, I had gone from one centimeter to eight. The baby was coming.
I got to the point where I couldn't tolerate the pain. "Get the goddamn anesthesiologist in here," I told them. "And don't tell me I'm too far along to get a block."
They didn't, thankfully. I had always been terrified of having a "spinal." But this labor was so intense, I would have eaten a bug for some relief. The nurse held me as the doctor shoved the needle into my spine. I felt a pitch that made me jump. It was over in a second.
The relief, thankfully, is almost immediate. They were getting ready to wheel me into the delivery room.
There was only one problem. I couldn't find Tony.
I started calling him when the nurse came in with the pitocin bag. No answer on the cell. No answer on the home phone. I called his work. That is probably where he is. Trouble is, no one was on the switchboard yet, it was too early.
I just kept calling and calling, and the phone just kept ringing, no answer.
They were wheeling me in. I had my cell phone in my hand. I kept dialing, and it kept ringing.
A surprise fifteen minute labor and a missing husband. Wasn't giving birth dramatic enough on its own? This felt out of control crazy; like getting hit by a bus.
Little did I know, I would be writing the book on dramatic childbirth adventures.
Tony was so tired he could barely function. I told him to go home, and get some rest. I was doing fine.
So there I laid in the bed, waiting again. I tried to distract myself with the TV. I called my parents. I called my mother-in-law. I tried to sleep, to no avail. Toward the end of the day, the phone rang.
It was Tony. "Is there anything you want?" he asked
My mouth was as dry as dirt. "Yeah, I said. I want popsicles. An entire box."
"Did you check with the doctor to see if that is okay?"
I hadn't eaten much of anything. I was afraid if I had any complications and needed surgery, and if had a full stomach, I would have problems. "Just bring the box," I told him, "and we'll figure it out when you get here."
Turned out I could have the Popsicles. I think I ate at least four. A few friends came by to see if I needed anything. So far, so good, no contractions.
Everybody went home. I was alone again. But I was calm and feeling okay. I actually thought I might be able to sleep.
I was woken up around midnight. "The doctor is taking you off the magnesium-sulfide," said the nurse. "The baby's heart rate is slowing."
I felt my stomach twist. "What happens if I go into labor?"
The nurse didn't answer me as she disconnected the I.V.
Within a hour I was having contractions. This went on through the night.
If you've had a child, you know that labor comes in waves. They start, they peak, they release. And being hooked up to a labor monitor, you can see just how the contractions do this. Throughout the night, I watched the monitor. When I saw a peak coming, I would breathe into it. Breathe, and release, breathe and release, like riding a wave. I kept this image in my head, ebbing and flowing through my mind.
At 6am, the labor just stopped.
I was checked. Still only one centimeter dilated. That was a good thing, or at least I thought it was.
I actually ate some solid food for a change, figuring I would be going home. But an hour or so later, they came in with another I.V. bag. "The doctor is going to give you pitocin to start up and regulate the contractions," she said. "He feels that the best thing for you and the baby is for you to have the baby today."
I didn't want pitocin I knew women that had it, and it makes the labor harder, and more intense. I started feeling real fear.
I can't give a reason as to why what happened next happened. God, mother nature, whatever you believe. But before they could hook up the pitocin I.V., the labor started again on its own.
And this was no wave. This was standing out in a tidal wave, getting knocked over, and over and over. It was so intense I couldn't breathe.
They checked me again. Within 15 minutes, I had gone from one centimeter to eight. The baby was coming.
I got to the point where I couldn't tolerate the pain. "Get the goddamn anesthesiologist in here," I told them. "And don't tell me I'm too far along to get a block."
They didn't, thankfully. I had always been terrified of having a "spinal." But this labor was so intense, I would have eaten a bug for some relief. The nurse held me as the doctor shoved the needle into my spine. I felt a pitch that made me jump. It was over in a second.
The relief, thankfully, is almost immediate. They were getting ready to wheel me into the delivery room.
There was only one problem. I couldn't find Tony.
I started calling him when the nurse came in with the pitocin bag. No answer on the cell. No answer on the home phone. I called his work. That is probably where he is. Trouble is, no one was on the switchboard yet, it was too early.
I just kept calling and calling, and the phone just kept ringing, no answer.
They were wheeling me in. I had my cell phone in my hand. I kept dialing, and it kept ringing.
A surprise fifteen minute labor and a missing husband. Wasn't giving birth dramatic enough on its own? This felt out of control crazy; like getting hit by a bus.
Little did I know, I would be writing the book on dramatic childbirth adventures.
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