From where I left off in my previous post, I had been laboring for just over 6.5 hours at home and my contractions were 10 minutes apart and quite painful.
So at 1:45 am on Monday March 21, I walked into my guest bedroom to awaken my Mama. "They are 10 minutes apart and I am doing alright right now, but soon, I am going to need help to get through a contraction." She and Daddy began to think about getting up. As I walked back to my room, another contraction came. And then within 7 minutes, another contraction. I woke Scotty up saying, "They have just gotten closer, I think we should get up and go to the hospital." He was up. And then back into my parents room to tell them it was definitely time to get up.
So there it was 2 am, we are all scurrying about, getting everything together to head to Florida Hospital Altamonte and my contractions were coming one right after the other, so probably within 2 minutes apart. Of course, it was because I was moving around so much, but still, just a little unnerving.
Once outside came the decision of which car to ride in. I was in a whole lot of pain and needed to be on my hands and knees. So I went up to Scotty, pressed against his chest and asked, "Can I ride in the van? Would you feel like I was not choosing you?" And my gracious husband said, "Of course not, ride in the van."
I don't think I could have made it to the hospital if I had ridden in the PT Cruiser. And poor Carter would have really been struggling with my moans!
In the van, the contractions continued every 2-4 minutes. It's a 35-40 minute drive to the hospital. And boy, it was a painful ride. Every contraction forced me on my hands and knees in the back bucket seat that had been laid down. Sitting or being confined at all brought such an increase in pain! My back labor was awful, awful.
When we reached the hospital, I climbed out of the van and stood beside it to breathe through a contraction so that I could actually talk to the woman inside at the desk instead of moaning at her. Of course, upon walking in she knew I needed labor and delivery. She poked her head into another side office and I heard the triage nurse ask, "Has her water broken?" When I responded no, she said she would be out in a couple minutes.
Here comes an educational soapbox.
80% of women's water does not break on its own before contractions begin (or some high percentage like that). Unlike what is portrayed in movies and in very common practice, the breaking of the water is not the best thing for mother or baby. On occasion, stripping the membrane or breaking the water does induce labor. And then again, on many occasions it does not do anything except put the mother on a time limit of 24 hours to get the baby out or else off to a c-section. Optimal baby delivery is that the amniotic sac stays intact until the mother is ready to push the baby out. There are several good reasons for this (now, that being said, the water can and does break on its own prior to labor beginning and there is nothing you can do about that). One, the amniotic sac is a safe place for the baby where bacteria and germs cannot get into easily. Two, it is a protective covering over the baby through contractions (not that I know if it absorbs some of the squeezing or not, I have no idea). And finally, the fluid allows the baby to sit "comfortably" in the womb without the baby's weight interfering with the umbilical cord (this is critical and the most important in my book). My sister-in-law has a friend who had her water broken and the baby sank down on top of the umbilical cord while the woman was not fully dilated, which led to a 6 minute c-section with no medicine to save the baby. Scary. Moral of the story: eat well to build a strong amniotic sac that won't break on its own. Then that is one more risk you don't have to be concerned with during labor and delivery.
Off soapbox.
So after another contraction or two, out comes the triage nurse to escort me to the birthing area. It was about a 200 yard walk, maybe. She wanted to give me a wheelchair. I declined because the thought of sitting sounded more miserable than walking! I made it rather well to the birth floor. Moving was very good. Still was very bad.
Once in the double doors of delivery, nurse Angela met us with some paperwork (I came to love her--wonderful woman and nurse. Just wonderful)! By this time, it was probably about 10 after 3 am. So to the room we went and my vitals were taken. She checked my cervix (the opening where the baby comes out for you young'ns or those that don't know) I was 6-7 cm dilated and almost 100% effaced. That was pretty far along in the labor process for me (as an aside, the cervix opens up at its widest to a wopping 10 cm, think small orange. And the cervix starts out like a thick tube that has to thin out (efface) to the depth of a thin plate). Thus I was 6 cm and thin as a plate.
So after she checked me, I was hooked up to the baby monitoring (fetal monitoring). Now, most hospitals require constant fetal monitoring, which if it is not wireless can prevent mobility. Thankfully and as I had researched, Florida Hospital Altamonte had wireless monitoring AND intermittent monitoring, meaning, if I didn't want to wear the monitor all the time, the would just do it for short periods at a time every hour or so. BUT, for the first 20 minutes, I had to be monitored. Talk about miserable. Having to lay in the bed for that 20 minutes was terrible. I was on my left side and stayed there. Why I didn't move around more, I don't know. I think I thought I would mess up the monitoring and I would have to go longer. Let's just say next time, I will move around some even when I am hooked up.
After the 20 minutes of painful monitoring was over, I jumped up to my hands and knees. Someone asked for a birthing ball. I never saw it. My midwife, Cathy Rudolph, had just delivered a baby hours earlier, so she was awakened again for our baby. She arrived around 3:45 am. Once she checked me (I was at 8 cm then) I told her I thought the baby was in the wrong position--posterior--with the head facing my front and not my back. She made me lay down on my back (again, painful) and felt my abdomen. She agreed. So in she went again to feel the baby's head. She took two fingers on either side of the baby's head (keep in mind the baby is not so low that you can see it; it is still higher up in me) and tried to turn the head. I heard her say, "I can turn this baby's head." She then told me what the game plan was. So for 5 contractions I labored on my hands and knees with my butt up in the air as high as I could get it. The goal of this: the baby to come out of my pelvis area back up towards my ribs so that it could re-enter the pelvic region correctly, hopefully. So through 5 contractions we went. My sweet Mama rubbing my lower back constantly through a contraction (because the back pain was immense) and Scotty laying across the bed at my head gently whispering and rubbing my neck. I cannot begin to describe to you the absolute pain of contractions and back labor pains. But, I found myself self-talking saying, "I can do anything for a minute or two." Because once a contraction ended I could rest for a minute. And then came another one.
After the 5 contractions on my hands and knees, off to my left side did I roll for three contractions. Ohhhh, how laying still hurt even worse. There was so much pressure and pain in my low, low back/butt it was unbearable. Unbearable.
Through the first contraction on my left side, I asked Scotty to rub my lower back harder with his whole hand (you see I turned away from my Mama when I rolled on my side, so my back was towards Scotty). In response to my request, Scotty says, "Babe, don't forget that I lost a finger a few years ago so I cannot use my WHOLE hand." I didn't laugh, but caught his humor and in turn asked Mama to take back over rubbing since he was not doing a good job of it, for whatever reason. In retrospect, it was hilarious and I am glad that it didn't make me mad at the time since he really was rubbing poorly. Humor can sometimes help in labor and sometimes it just doesn't do anything, good or bad, like in my case. I was just trying to get through the contraction.
I came to realize that did not know unbearable pain when I was on my left side, because after those three contractions then Cathy told me to switch to my right side. Now, that was unbearable. I have never been in so much pain. Absolute pain. This is the position, on my right side, where I found myself saying,
"I can't do this."
"How many more contractions can I endure through?"
"I cannot do this."
Let's just say that looking too far ahead in labor does not help me at all. I had to shift my thinking to more positive self-talk AND to "Shellie, you just have to get through the next contraction. One contraction at a time." I asked my dad to pray over me through a contraction. I started praying out loud through contractions. I was in utter pain and misery. It was officially terrible and awful! But, I kept on praying and pleading with God for strength and endurance. I started quoting Scripture, "I lift my eyes up to the mountains, where does my help come from? My help comes from You, Maker of heaven and earth." Oh, how I needed the help of Almighty God to help me get through the next hours or so I thought.
I don't know how many contractions I went through on my right side, but at some point, the pressure in my butt was so strong that I cried out, "Cathy, I feel like I need to push. But I don't think I am fully dilated." I don't know why I thought that though. She checked and I was "only" at 9 cm. But she said, "Listen to your body. Push if it is telling you to push." I warned my Mama who was sitting behind me that I felt like I was about to poop. Yep, I said it out loud. I pushed out my butt like I was pooping and nothing came out, but I pushed correctly (for those of you who know I pushed wrong with Carter Bane).
Right then, I got a cramp in my left glut and hamstring. Seriously? Cathy grabbed my left leg and rolled me over onto my back. How painful that was! Once on my back at an incline, I scooted down in the bed just a little for my next contraction that I was sure I would push through. Cathy warned my Mama that when I pushed my water would probably break so she better get back a little. Good thing because when the next contraction came and I pushed with all my might. I heard Cathy say something about seeing the amniotic sac bulging and then it broke--a rush of liquid flowing out. But I was still pushing. I made noises. I grunted and huffed and whatever else to push. No one counted. No one told me to push this way or that way. The only thing Cathy ever said about my pushing was, "Your pushes need to be longer than that one." So I pushed longer and harder.
Scotty continued to whisper words of encouragement to me right in my ear. He asked, "Shellie, do you know how close you are?"
"No. I don't."
"You are so close, babe; you can do it."
With the next contraction I almost cried, saying, "I just want this baby out of me!" I couldn't go much longer in my mind. The next contraction came and I pushed with all my might, long and hard and out came the head. Cathy told me with the next push the shoulders would come out and she wanted me to reach down and grab the baby and put it on my chest. I pushed again with lots of loud noises (I heard Carter get upset because of my noises and slight screaming--sorry buddy, you were a trooper through it all though) and with everything in me (the whole time telling myself, "Push out your butt just like you are pooping")! Out came the shoulders, so I reached down between my legs and grabbed under the baby's arms and pulled it out. On the way up I saw that we had a GIRL!. I cried out, "It's a girl!" as I laid her on my chest. The pediatric nurse sucked out some mucus and wiped our little Della Wren off as she laid on my chest and then cried out. What a relief for me, for her, for everyone. I looked horrible and was sweaty and yucky, but there on my chest was the newest life and the world was right and good. The pain led to something beautiful--our second child, our daughter at 4:50 am on Monday March 21, 2011. She came on her due date (which I have a story about that one too, but I will save that for another post--let's just say Della Wren is a reminder of life on a very sad day one year ago).
Scotty leaned over and kissed me as I held our baby girl on my chest. Then he grabbed Carter and they both stood at my head peering down at me and Della Wren, while Cathy delivered my placenta with another push from me. I almost immediately began to breastfeed and Wren latched on easily. Thank you God!
No, the pain does not end with the baby's delivery, but at least the baby is there so it is a little distracting. After the placenta, Cathy had to stitch me up. More pain. Oh and what hurt most were the lidocaine shots. Ouch. I'm sure Tandy got some shots of the painful faces I made.
Nonetheless, by the time 5:10 am rolled around, all was finished and the nurses and my midwife were cleaning everything up. Such a quick finale to a painfully "long" experience.
Della Wren had a lot of mucus in her so the pediatric nurse had to take her and suction her out often. Thankfully, there have been no repercussions from the excess mucus.
Our huge posse slowly dissipated throughout the hour before 6am, as people began to go home to get some rest before their Monday began. Mom Patterson went straight to work so no rest for her though. Matthew had come straight from work so he went home to sleep. Michelle never went to sleep the night before since she knew she would be up soon, so she didn't get much sleep with two little ones awaking soon. Tandy and Rachel went home to sleep for a few hours before they went off again. Liz left to go sleep too before her afternoon class. That just left my parents, Scotty and Carter, me and Wren.
We all rested in our respected places for about an hour. Wren and I on the bed. Carter and Scotty in the reclining chair, Mama in the other chair and Daddy just hanging around. Close to 6:30 am we left the delivery room for our "recovery" room. I was wheeled in a wheelchair while Wren was pushed in her bed to the room. We all settled down for a little rest in a tiny room. But two hours of sleep came for Scotty and Carter and Wren, but not for the rest of us. Oh well. There would be time to sleep later. For now, our little Wren was here and we were all together in one place.
God is more gracious than I could imagine. I have been overwhelmed at His goodness. There are so many times I sit in wonder that He has given us so much life and health when there is so much death and sickness everywhere. Why did He choose to give me and Scotty two strong and healthy children? How is it that He has given us such great families who support us so completely? Why did He give us such a great group of friends around us with whom we can do life? It's overwhelming when I think about it. And you know what it makes me want to do--praise Him. I want to praise the one, true God. The One who cares. The One who gives and takes away. The One who desires us to know Him more than anything because He is so worth knowing. Blessed is the Lord, the Giver of Life. May we all come to know Him more. Because let me tell you, there is no denying the existence of a greater power after witnessing the birth of a baby--it is truly a miracle!
"Baruch ata Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha-olam, ha-gomel lahayavim tovot sheg'malani kol tov." "Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the Universe, Who bestows good things on the unworthy, and has bestowed on me every goodness!"
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