Go figure my kid would be 2 days late. We went in Monday morning at 6am to be induced and Baby Groot didn’t actually arrive till 3am Wednesday morning. I told you all he was lazy and content. And yes, you read that right, Baby Groot is a HE! So, here’s how the 45 hours before our baby boy arrived went…
I guess with inductions, a lot of times the women come in the night before and have something applied to their cervix to help soften and prepare it for the baby to come through. Since we had the cervical issues, my doc didn’t think I would need to do that. We arrived at the hospital at 6am and they showed us straight to our room. I had a hard time deciding what to wear for the shindig. I googled “what to wear when giving birth” once, simply because the nurse at our childbirth class said that it might be more comfortable for you to wear your own clothes than the hospital gowns, which I thought was kind of brilliant and would never had thought of such a thing. I found a message board in which a woman asked the same question and the responses were a bit judgmental and self-righteous – “How shallow do you have to be to dress up to have a baby?!” or “Are you too good for the hospital gown??” Moms, Are. The. Worst. Anyway, I decided on a sports bra, loose shorts that I normally wore as pajamas, and a jersey robe style shirt I bought at Walmart. It worked out. So, we get to our room and I try to get comfortable. A little hard to do when you’re nervous about a giant baby popping out of your hooha. I lay in bed and about 15 minutes later the nurses are in the room ready to put in my IV (which is always an adventure with me…this particular time hurt to the point I felt compelled to politely curse the nurse.) They start the Pitocin at 7am and off we go. I fell asleep for a bit and then watched some Jurassic Park. This is basically how the entire morning went:
I was also worried about not being able to eat the entire time, but the sweet nurse let me have a little juice and crackers, which doesn’t sound like much, but when you think you’re getting nothing to eat, it’s awesome. Anyway, turns out the Pitocin did nothing the entire day. I made it to 2cm and stopped. My OB came in at noon and said I should walk around and try to get the baby moving. So J and I walked up and down the hallway a few times, but nothing. During this time, the woman next door was in labor. I know because I heard her. She was in labor with no epidural. It was scary. For me. Luckily, J and I had walked to the other end of the hallway when the baby came. Nobody needs to hear all that. Anyway, with no progress the entire day, my doc decided to stop the Pitocin, use the cervix softening drug, and then try the Pitocin again the next morning. So basically, our Monday was spent laying in bed, watching TV all day.
I wake up Tuesday morning, they start the Pitocin again, and I start contracting a couple hours later. OOhhhhhh, so THAT’S what labor contractions feel like! Yeah, they actually start hurting a little instead of being just the tightening of my abdomen kind. At first it was like “oh, yeah, that kind of hurts a little, I think that’s a real contraction” and quickly became “oh good God, this is terrible!” My doc came in around 11am to break the bag of waters (yes, it’s actually called “bag of waters,” like some sort of magical trinket you get while playing Dungeons and Dragons or any other RPG) and the pain definitely increased after that. I requested some nitric oxide hoping it would take some edge off (I wasn’t ready to give up and go full on epidural just yet) but all it did was distract me slightly because I had this giant mask over my face now. I unfortunately felt nothing and I was even kind of looking forward to the high Not long after that I opted for the epidural (#sorrynotsorry). Yes, the numbing needle still hurt and it was scary, but J was there this time (unlike the cerclage) and I was ready for the pain to stop. Part of me felt like a wuss because I knew I wasn’t that far along in labor and already needed it, but then I just tried to tell myself that maybe instead of being less tolerant to pain than others, I was actually experiencing worse pain than others. Take that!
So, long story short, I progressed painlessly to 7cm and stopped again. The later it got, the colder I got, and the chills set in. I couldn’t stop shivering. Like, if you had me hold a can of Coke for 10 seconds and then opened it, the can would have exploded. My temperature slowly crept up through the night and at 2am I spiked a fever of 102.9. It was then they finally decided to do a C-section. By this point, I was ready for whatever. I was tired, my catheter was bothering me, and the shivering sucked. They wheeled me into the OR and about 20 minutes later, J came in and joined me. I don’t remember details, I may have dozed off while they were operating. And then I remember feeling that weird pull, hearing a faint cry, and then hearing the doctor say “It’s a boy!” That was a pretty awesome moment. I totally recommend waiting to find out your baby’s gender. I didn’t get to see him right away. It felt like 20 minutes or so went by before they brought him over to me. During this time they were sowing me up (I felt all this tugging and honestly was afraid they were going to rip my skin) and I kept dozing off. Even though I pretty much slept all day, I was so exhausted. They finally let me see my perfect little man, they finished closing me up, then they wheeled me back into our room.
I remember seeing little guy across the room, in the plastic bin thing, being poked and prodded by a nurse. J was with them. I remember thinking “should I be more eager to spend time with my son?” but I was sooooo tired. I figured he was in good hands. I mean, these nurses know way more about babies than I do. And I would have plenty of time with him later. So, we slept for a few hours, and then they wheeled us into our recovery room, our home away from home for 4 more days…
My next post will be on those 4 more days. If I have any advice to give to first time moms, it’s be prepared for ANYTHING! When I tell my story to people, they look at me sympathetically sometimes, but it really wasn’t that bad. And I think I feel that way because I was open to anything and everything. We didn’t have a birth plan. I would have rather not had gotten cut open, but I wasn’t opposed to it either. My OB wasn’t even the one that delivered my baby. She was there a lot when she could be, but she couldn’t be there during go time. It would have been nice if she was, but she couldn’t and I was OK with that. These doctors and nurses do this time after time after time and I trust they know what they’re doing. Just because I have a baby growing inside me it means I have some sort of maternal instincts on what to do and how?? Ummm, no ma’am. Just call me Jon Snow.