By 2:00 pm, it had been twelve hours since my water had broken. I had continued to dilate each time the doctor checked me, so she let me continue labor on my own. The last time she checked, I was at 6cm. The pain was fairly strong with each contraction but certainly something that I could handle. At the 2:00 check, she said I was still at 6cm. She reminded me that they want mothers to deliver within 24 hours of their water breaking. I was at the halfway mark (12 hours), and the doctor didn’t want anything to slow down the progress of labor. She told me that we should start pitocin to keep things moving along. This was disappointing to me because this meant drugs. I had been hoping for no drugs, but I wasn’t naïve enough to think that they wouldn’t be needed.
I knew from my favorite pregnancy book, What to Expect When You’re Expecting, that pitocin use goes hand in hand with intense, painful contractions. My pain was high enough at this point in natural labor that I decided to accept IV pain meds at the same time as they started the pitocin. IV meds were supposed to be a very light dose of medication that would wear off fairly soon. I thought it might help. Two things seemed to happen almost simultaneously. First, the nurse told me as she gave me the IV pain meds that it might make me a little sleepy. Instead, I felt like I went on a full blown acid trip. I’ve never done drugs, but I think it might be like that. I couldn’t focus on anything that was being said. Words came out of my mouth that were not the thoughts I had in my head. I felt like I was possessed. I can say with much assurance that I will skip straight to the epidural next time before I let them get anywhere near me with those meds. The second thing that happened was the onset of back labor. If you’ve never felt it, just imagine someone shoving their fist in your back and ripping out your spine. I can honestly say that that feels like an accurate description. One of the differences between back labor and natural labor is that there is no chance to catch your breath in between contractions. The contractions continue in their regular rhythm, but I didn’t feel them much. I just felt the worst pain in my life in my lower back. Nothing could ease it. All I wanted was a second, just one single second to catch my breath, but it didn’t happen.
The nurse came to ask if I wanted an epidural. Wesley started to tell her that I had told him that I wanted to wait as long as possible. I just remember saying, “I want it! I want it!” So, they gave me an epidural. It was heaven. Pure heaven. I felt so much better. The pain didn’t go away entirely. I’d say it was knocked down over 50%, though. Ah yes, a much more manageable level. My labor continued to progress once the epidural was in place. The epidural only worked on one side of my body, so there was still a certain level of pain. Finally, I made it to 10 cm dilated. About 18 hours after my water broke, it was time to start pushing. At this point, they usually only allow one person to be in the room with the mother. Once again, the nurse said that she didn’t mind if I wanted extra people in the room. Dad, Preston, and Darvey disappeared. Mom, Carol Ann, and Bev were still in the room. The nurse asked me who I wanted to stay. I mumbled, “I don’t care.” She then looked at Wesley and said, “What did she say that she wanted before you guys got to the hospital?” Wesley started to answer her saying, “Well, she said she wanted me and her mom-“ I interrupted him by saying even louder, “I. Don’t. Care!” That settled that and all three of them stayed. It didn’t matter to me. All three of them are mothers. They knew the drill. The doctor let the epidural run out so that I could feel to push. Unfortunately, this meant that the back labor cranked up several notches. It was severe enough that I couldn’t push. I heard one of the nurses whisper to another nurse, “I’ve never seen back labor that bad.” Great. That’s exactly what you want to hear from a labor and delivery nurse.
I was so exhausted at that point that I couldn’t do much of anything, so Dr. Patton called down for another pack of medicine for the epidural. She didn’t think I’d be able to push without it. She was right. After two hours of pushing, Dr. Patton said that we might need to do a C-section. It was getting to be pretty late. I was worried that if we went to the OR, Mia wouldn’t be born on Tyler’s birthday. I asked the doctor if it would be safe to continue pushing and try to get Mia out myself. She said I could try but warned me that if the baby didn’t come out soon, we would be headed to the OR. I continued to push. I barely heard what anyone else was saying to me. I just kept talking to the baby in my belly saying, “Come on baby girl! We can do this!” When Mia’s head came into view, the doctor used the vacuum to help her out. There was a NICU team waiting for my baby so that they could check her out since the vacuum was needed. As soon as she came out, she was carried to the other side of the room.
As Dr. Patton was stitching up some minor tearing I’d had, it was hard for me to lie there patiently. The NICU team had whisked Mia across the room to look her over. I kept raising up on my elbows to try to see around Dr. Patton. When she was finished with me and Mia got the okay from the NICU doctors, my little baby girl was placed in my arms.
How do you describe such a moment? I’d dreamed of it my whole life. She was perfect. She looked up at me, and the whole world shifted. I would never be able to look at anything the same again. This little blessing was given to us. To Wesley and I. How could we ever live up to such a privilege? I already loved her before she was born, but to see her for the first time was to give away a piece of my heart. She’ll always have it just like her daddy does.
Mia and I the day after she was born
