We checked in, got oriented to our room (Room 628), and received a run-down on the process of inducing labor. I got an IV placed after our doctor put in the orders. I had never had an IV before and it was a very strange thing for sure. I got a dose of Cytotec PO and went and walked around the hospital. Up and down stairs, waiting for the contractions to really start. I felt them, but to me they were very minor inconveniences, if that.
Every 4 hours the nurse would meet us back in our room to check to see how far I had dilated and get new orders started. At 4 am she came in and checked: I had progressed some, but not a whole lot. The doctor decided that breaking my water would be the best bet at this point to get labor going. They came in at 5 am and broke my water. I could feel the contractions slightly more, but they still weren't terrible.
At about 7am I could feel them more. From the time my water broke until then, Bill and I were playing card games and I was able to function. After 7am, I had to focus on me and the baby. The contractions started coming harder and faster, occasionally two or three at at time. It was a lot of pressure, but not a lot of pain.
About 9am I was starting to feel overwhelmed. The nurse offered to start a warm bath and I accepted. Right as I was about to get in, with Bill rubbing my back, I felt a sudden rush of fluid and a combination of fluid came from me and splattered the floor, Bill's shoes as well. I finally made it to the tub and it didn't help at all. The nurse asked me to sign the epidrual consent form just in case I decided I wanted it later down the road. I said I would but never got around to it. The contractions were picking up. I almost caved and told the nurse I wanted the epidural but then my mom suggested that I try the IV pain medicine first. I agreed.
Between about 930 and 1030 when I started pushing, I got two doses of fentanyl and boy was that a strange experience. The nurse said it would take the edge off but not take away all of the pain. It sure did. She also said it would feel like I was drunk but I wouldn't get a hangover. She was right again. It felt great! I was mainly laboring over the back of the bed with Bill and my mom taking turns rubbing my lower back through the contractions. At one point, I fell asleep for a few minutes between contractions. Bill also had to remind me to breathe once or twice because the fentanyl was affecting me so much. But it helped.
I wanted the third dose--you could only have three doses and then they would have to go to the epidural from there--right before I started pushing, so at the very last possible minute. I told the nurse this wish, but it was past the last possible minute. I was almost ready to push. In fact, a few minutes later I felt this intense urge to push. The nurse called the doctor: it was time.
I started pushing at 1030 (approximately). I tried every position, except being on my hands and knees because that just didn't feel right to me. I pushed and pushed, the doctors stretched and stretched me. At one point I had my feet on my forehead but my pelvis just wouldn't cooperate and open. Our daughter's head would come out a bit and go right back in, no matter how hard I pushed. She crowned 4-5 times before things got serious. The nurse suddenly gave me an oxygen mask to put on that was annoying me and seemed to do more harm than good when it came to my life but was there to try to help the baby who appeared to be getting stressed out and was not tolerating the prolonged labor as well as we needed her to be.
All of a sudden it seemed people starting coming into our room. Nurses and other medical staff. The doctors said to keep pushing, my nurse started a liter of fluid quickly and then was back at my side. Something wasn't right. The doctors were talking quickly to each other. The baby's head finally came out and my nurse pushed hard on my stomach to get the rest of her out quickly. Something was very wrong.
Even more sudden than the rush of people was how quickly I had a slippery, wet, purple looking baby on my chest. She wasn't crying. She was barely breathing. The TCN was working to dry her off and stimulate her at the same time her dad was cutting her umbilical cord. I saw what the TCN nurse was doing and worked to get a cry out, patting her back, rubbing her, trying everything instinct and nursing school had taught me to do. Nothing worked and she still wasn't crying.
The TCN then looked at me and told me she was going to have to take the baby over to the warmer and work on her over there. I can hardly describe how this look made me feel. Her eyes held mine and seemed to ask my permission to take the baby even though she would have done it without it. Her eyes told me that she was going to do everything nursing school and her experience had taught her to do to save and help my baby girl. The Neonatal Nurse Practitioner who arrived with the slew of other people looked at me and explained that the baby had inhaled some meconium and would need to be taken to the NICU to be looked at and obtain some treatment. Bill went with her; I had my own complication to deal with.
After the baby and Bill left, the number of medical staff had decreased severely to just my nurse and the resident. As they were taking the baby from the room the doctor said that I was still bleeding heavily and to hang pitocin. There was a hole in the bag and it took a little while to get it hung so they gave me a shot of it in the thigh to try to get my uterus to clamp down like it was supposed to. The nurse started pushing on my belly and I could feel lots of blood coming out. She kept massaging it and trying to get it to firm up. Finally, after the shot and a whole bag of pitocin, my uterus was cooperating and started firming up.
I had lost a lot of blood very quickly and was already anemic prior to delivery and even pregnancy. I was as white as a ghost and felt very cold and shaky all of a sudden. But I refused to go in to shock. I worked to control my shaking, my breathing, my temperature. I was fine. The nurse gave me an ibuprofen, a menu to order food from--I needed to eat quickly. After the nurse took my to the bathroom and helped me get cleaned up and dressed, we were on our way to our new room (728) on the post-partum floor when we got to stop in to the NICU (605-A) and see our baby girl.
She had a white elastic beanie type thing covering her swollen head and a bubble-CPAP mask on, IVs in her hand and foot running fluids and antibiotics, a little tube going down her mouth into her stomach and hooked up to many monitors. It was heart breaking to see. I knew her nurses well and they were great about telling us what was going on, what they had already done and what the plan was. I felt much better about it all but still wished there was more to do. All we could do was hope and pray.
All of our prayers were answered when we got to take her home 48 hours later after only 2 days in the NICU when they estimated 10 at least. She was a rock star. The nurses told me that they had never seen a baby inhale that much meconuim and not have to be placed on a venitlator let alone be on room air 2 days later and going home. She was a miracle. Our miracle.
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