I promised myself when I was pregnant that as soon as I had Lucy, I would document her birth story so I would remember every moment of it. Sadly, she will be three months tomorrow, and some of the details have become fuzzy. The beauty of time is that I am already forgetting the pain. It becomes a distant memory and in it's place, I find Her.
I couldn't sleep the night before, I tossed and turned, fretted and worried. And being my third, I knew the pain I was in for...or at least thought I did. I kept visioning the moment that they would place her on my tummy right after the final push, and decided that it would be what I would focus on during labor. There is no greater reward for any work I will ever do, then that instant she is out.
5:45 came fast. I awoke and showered. This was an important element of my morning. With the girls, labor struck me late at night and early in the morning. I almost hated seeing the pictures of moms with new babies...hair done, makeup on, looking completely unscathed. I always a mess, but with the craziest smile on my face. For some reason, it was important for me to have my legs shaved and looking like I was ready for what was about to happen.
I arrived at the hospital at 7am for the induction. They showed me to the room, which was at the end of the hallway, almost secluded from all the other moms. As we walked in, I remember the nurse turning to me and saying, "you were planing on forgoing the epidural right?" I figured the seclusion was to keep me away from the moms laboring peaceful...I am sure the moaning would scare them.
I decided to keep the clothes on I wore in. Nothing freaks me out and makes me feel uncomfortable as hospital garb. Every time I see that horrible pattern on the sandpaper cotton, it reminds me I'm in the hospital. Hate it.
I was feeling such mixed emotions in that moment. I had never been induced, so when labor started naturally both times, there was no room for anything but focus. This time, I just lay there, and for the first time was full of dread. I hated this feeling. I wanted to flee the room. How did I let my doctor talk me into induction? I wanted to run, return home and wait for her to make the decision to arrive. In the midst of the panic, the nurse arrived. She was so reassuring, I decided to go through with it. She told me that only 2% of inductions end without and epidural, but it was possible and that she respected my wishes of no pain intervention. I was there checked in, my girls were set up the next three nights at grandparent's houses, and I was going to have to go through with this at some point.
I was checked before the pitocin and was close to 4cm and 95% effaced. The nurse told me that there wouldn't be the need for much pitocin since my numbers were so close to being in active labor. The bag was hung, and the drip was started..I had no clue what I was in for.
Within minutes, I could feel the contractions. They started as low aches, almost feeling like braxton hicks and within a matter of what seemed like minutes, it was on. I used the birthing ball to help with pressure and managed the waves of pain, and had little trouble sinking into the peaceful focused state and had used times before. My doctor broke my water at 10:30 and found I was at 5cm. Lucy's head was so low she could hardly relieve any fluids. At 11, I was 6cm, and at noon I found myself in transition.
That 7cm jump on pitocin was indescribable. I never could imagine that a body could feel that amount of pain. I trembled, gripped that handrails, shook my body back and forth and groaned long and deep. After the two longest hours of my life, at 1:30pm, I had made it to 9cm. In the midst of those two hours, as the relentless waves of pain came, it was so hard to remain in control. These pitocin contractions were wicked...earth shattering...evil. I screamed, and I cried. I pleaded with my body to remain in control.
At 2, the bed was taken apart, the stirrups were attached. I was put on my back, and my nurse turned off the pitocin. They agreed the my body could make it from here. I was 9 and three quarters...a glimmer from ten. I was instructed to give a few pushes and that last bit of my cervix would not budge. As I pushed, the doctor pushed back, trying to lift it over Lucy's head so she could come out. This pain I felt, made me almost beg for transition again. I remember screaming at my doctor to leave me alone. I begged her to just let my body become ready on it's own. I saw a nod of her head and the beep of the pitocin being turned back on. I heard the words "all the way up" and I knew that no matter my wishes, they were making the decisions. I remember feeling a little angry, and making myself channel that madness into those final four pushes. After a final determined scream and the feeling of fire, it was all over.
At 2:45 pm, Lucy was on my tummy. That moment that I had pictured earlier that morning was alive. I could finally see her dark hair, her long fingers and perfectly pink skin. In that moment, all that pain seemed like it was a distant memory, something that happened to me decades ago. I heard her screams during the apgar test and knew she was ok.
After having a child without an epidural, your body is alive. I felt like I wanted to jump up, run the halls, hug everyone in the room...jump for joy. I felt wonderful. I could have conquered the world in that moment. I couldn't stop smiling. That moment, everything in my world couldn't be more perfect. It is the biggest rush EVER.
Three months later, it is 5:05am..I just finished nursing and Lucy is laying next to me...staring deep in my eyes and grinning so big. I can't imagine how I lived without her. How was our family complete?
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