I had my last Dr appt on Fri, Feb 25th. Of course the blood pressure results were anything but positive, in fact they were higher than they had ever been, and therefore Dr suggested we induce. During a non-stress test, we discussed the pros and cons of induction and although I had wanted to avoid this route, he thought it was the less risky option, especially since we were so close to the due date. We set the induction for 7 am Monday, Feb 28th with the hopes that I would go into labor on my own over the weekend. You can bet that I had plans to do everything in my power to make that happen.
During the non-stress test, we were charting quite a few contractions and I was most certainly feeling them. They continued while I was on my way home from the appt and I was getting excited that perhaps things were already starting on their own. I went to bathroom at one point and found that I had some brown/red discharge. I freaked for a split second, but them realized that I had likely lost some (all) of my mucous plug. I continued to feel contractions and pressure for the rest of the evening and into the night, once I had gone to bed. All positive signs…until I woke up Saturday morning to nothing.
No cramps, no further spotting, no pressure, NOTHING!!! Not wanting to increase my blood pressure further, I didn’t go on a crazy cleaning spree…though I did really have to fight hard to keep my nesting instincts in check (of course, this was much to Jeff’s dismay since he would have loved for me to go on a cleaning binge… He, however, took over in that area and did the nesting thing for me as a way to get rid of his nervous energy about the upcoming induction.) Instead of me cleaning, we took a long walk on Saturday afternoon (which resulted only in giving me a severe back ache:() and indulged in some last minute pre-baby lovin’ (though I think Jeff was the only one indulging…those of you who have been 39 weeks pregnant can probably attest that s-e-x is not exactly enjoyable, or even comfortable, at this stage…or maybe I am just weird…either way, I was more or less going through the motions as a means to an end.)
Sunday morning came and still no change in status. We had hired a doula to be there with us for the birth and she came over for a couple hours on Sunday afternoon to do some acupressure and massage to see if that might get things along. During the acupressure sessions, I was feeling contractions, but nothing sustainable or strong enough to get things going like we had hoped. That night we tried one last lovin’ session and then went to bed. Though I was full of nervous excitement for the next day, I was also disappointed that my body was not able to do this part of pregnancy naturally either. Per this post, part of that changed just a few hours later when my water broke at 12:40 am.
I woke up to a wet sensation and thought that I was wetting my pants in my sleep. A second later, when I no longer felt a trickle, but a gush of fluid, I realized that my water was breaking. I jumped out of bed, excited and scared at the same time. I ran to the bathroom, cleaned up and then woke up Jeff. He asked if I need anything and when I replied that I was just going to take a shower and see how things progressed, he rolled over and went back to sleep…NICE, huh :) I showered, put on some makeup, dried my hair, all the time not feeling a thing. After getting dressed, I sent our doula a text, finished packing our hospital bags with all the last minute stuff, brought them out into the kitchen, ate a bowl of cereal, checked my work email and put on the out of office notice…still nothing. It was now 2 o’clock, Jeff was still sleeping and I was wide awake, waiting for something more to happen. I got out the exercise ball and started bouncing on that, while tapping out a blog post, hoping that might do something. All this time my water kept gushing every 30-45 minutes. I started having a few contractions, but they would only last 30 seconds and were about 10-15 minutes apart. After posting to my blog, officially out of something to do, I texted my doula again with my status and she suggested that I go back to bed and try to get some sleep since I would be needing my energy later (how right she was!) I tried to sleep for the next 2-3 hours but kept waking up to the gushes of water and random contractions. I finally got up around 6am, dragging Jeff with me, to finish getting ready so we could make the scheduled induction at 7am.
By 7:30am I was hooked up to the monitors and my Dr was there to check me and see what course of action we were going to take. Unfortunately, I was not dilated at all, and still 70-80% effaced. He suggested we proceed with the induction, so he placed a pill near my cervix and I had to continue lying down for the next hour. After that, I was free to do anything to get labor progressing. Our doula, Tiffany, showed up a little after 8am, got the music going and was available to help in any way she could. Between monitoring checks for the baby and my blood pressure every 1-2 hours, we walked, and did acupressure and massage sessions; I also bounced on the birth ball while playing a game of cribbage with Jeff and took a shower or two. I was definitely feeling them, still about 10-15 minutes apart, but they were still only lasting for about 30 seconds or so. Dr stopped in at the end of his day and checked me again before going home. Results: I was a whole centimeter. After all that time and effort, I was a bit bummed, but we kept it up and when the nurse checked me again at 8pm, I was at 2 centimeters and 80% effaced.
We kept up the walking, acupressure and bouncing on the birth ball. By now I had permanent indentations on my legs where they were pushing and holding for each 5 minute session…I don’t know what hurt worse, the contractions the pressure gave me or the pressure on the spots alone. We also must have walked miles up and down those halls throughout the day. I have pretty much every inch of those halls memorized and could probably navigate them with my eyes closed. For a while there, the cleaning lady could have followed me around with a mop and bucket. Since my water continued to gush throughout the day, I had many “accidents” along the way. Even though I was wearing a pad, in the hospital-issue stretch underwear, the quantity of water leakage could not be contained in the pad alone and would proceed to run down my legs and pool on the floor between them. The first time that happened, I was mortified. We got smart after that and started carrying a towel around with us. I don’t know what was more embarrassing; having an “accident” happen and dealing with it or lugging around a towel, literally advertising to everyone that an accident was imminent. But I have to say, it’s true what everyone tells you…after a while you just lose your dignity and no longer care.
When we checked in at 7am, the maternity ward was pretty quiet. There were no more than two other rooms occupied at that point. As we walked the halls throughout the day, we slowly saw more rooms fill up, and would pass an occasional couple making their rounds also. As the day crept into evening, those couples disappeared, more rooms filled up, visitors appeared in the waiting rooms and evidence that birth was near could be seen and heard in the hallways. Various Drs and nurses scurried around preparing the tools for labor and delivery, infant stations could be seen moving from room to room and babies appeared in the nursery. All this happening around us, but not for us, got to be quite discouraging, especially as time progressed into the wee hours of the night. If I had to hear another nurse make comment, “Still out walking, huh?,” I think I would have actually screamed out loud…like I didn’t realize we were basically the only couple on the ward not having our baby in a timely fashion. I started to feel like I was never going to meet my baby and started awfulizing about what possible outcomes would ensue if things didn’t pick up their pace.
Around midnight the contractions were getting stronger, coming about 5 minutes apart and were lasting at least 45 seconds. I continued to walk through them for a while and then asked the nurse to check me again. I was beyond disappointed when she told me that I was still at 2 cm and 80% effaced. After talking to the Dr, she told us that we could keep going as we were or that we could start a very low dose of Pitocin to see if that would help get things going. Wanting to go through this experience as naturally as possible, I had much hesitation about using further intervention, especially Pitocin, since I feared this drug would increase our chance of having a c-section and I wanted to avoid that outcome at all costs. Tiffany suggested we get some rest and take some time to think about things before making a decision. I decided to give it until 3 am and then go from there. Both Jeff and Tiffany konked out for the next 1.5 hours while I laid there trying to doze between the contractions and thoughts running through my head. On one hand, I was getting exhausted and wanted to get the show on the road, but on the other hand, I wanted to stay the course and use as minimal intervention as possible. However, after feeling no increase in the contractions by 3am, I finally called the nurse and told her to get the Pit going. By 3:30 am I was hooked up to the IV, which took away any further walking or showering ability, leaving me to the bed, the birth ball or the chair. But having been awake for almost two days at this point, (minus the 3-4 hours of sleep on Sunday night), I no longer cared and was ready for this part to be over and to have my baby in my arms.
Although I was started out on the lowest dose of Pitocin possible, that was really all it took to get the contractions going. Due to my exhaustion level, here is where things get a little fuzzy. Don’t get me wrong, contractions are contractions and they slowly (or not so slowly) got to be more, and more, painful, but for a while I think I did a pretty good job of staying in control of the pain by breathing through them and having Jeff or Tiffany start acupressure in the space between my thumb and fingers when I felt one coming on. Yes, it was hard work, but I still felt strongly that I could do this “labor thing” according to plan, without pain meds. I was in some pretty intense pain when Dr came in to check me again around 6:30, what I actually thought at the time was the worst pain I could ever feel (ha! Was I ever in for a wake-up call). I also thought that I was for sure going to be at 7 or 8 cm and that pushing and delivery was just a short time away. When they announced that I was ONLY 5 cm, I was devastated. I think I actually started to cry, or maybe just wanted to (reminder…things are pretty fuzzy for this time frame). I remember my Dr saying something along the lines of, “You’re doing great. Everyone seems to be very excited about your progress, except for you.” I then overheard Tiffany and Jeff talking with the nurses that it should only be a few more hours before we were ready to push. Hearing this didn’t help my devastation or my attitude. To make matters worse, somewhere in the same space of time, another individual on the medical staff came in to confiscate the baby warmer that had been patiently awaiting Baby Brochtrup for the last 24 hours. They claimed all other units were in use and they NEEDED this one for someone else very shortly…seeing what must have been our shocked faces, they told us not to worry, there would be one available for us when we go to that point. (Flashback to my earlier feeling of never getting to meet this baby) How the hell was I going to do this for a few more hours?!?!
What I had thought to be the worst pain of my life just continued to get progressively worse. I did my best to breathe and relax through the contractions, listening to Jeff or Tiffany remind me “Breathe the baby down,” “Relax your shoulders,” (they would actually physically push down on them to keep me from tensing up) “Keep your voice low” (this is supposed to keep you more relaxed and less likely to tense up also) or “Stay on top of the pain” (I actually had this mental image of a stick figure surfer guy who would ride the “wave” of the contraction, up and then down, up and then down. I clung to this image every time a contraction would start and it did help me keep my mind off the pain, to a certain extent. Where I came up with that image, I have no idea, but that’s what popped into my head and I went with it.) After hearing this over and over and getting wearier and wearier by the minute, I almost snapped at one point and wanted to yell “I DON’T WANT TO BREATHE THIS BABY DOWN! JUST SHUT UP AND DO SOMETHING TO MAKE THE PAIN GO AWAY.” Of course that would have been rude, since they were just there to help me, so I managed to keep some self-control and keep my mouth shut. I was so exhausted that I was actually falling asleep between the contractions that were 1-2 minutes apart. I would nod off as one contraction subsided, only to be jolted awake as another contraction crested. Falling asleep between the contractions did not give me the chance to feel the next one coming on and therefore made it very difficult to gain control of the pain before it rocked through my body. I had been sitting in the rocking chair for the last couple hours, since that was the position I found the most comfortable (funny how I can even use that word when talking about labor pains, but you get the idea). Tiffany suggested that I try some new positions to see if that would help things progress even faster, however I was not able to manage the pain as well in any other position and back to the rocking chair I went.
The Dr came to check me again around 9am and I was now around 7cm. Again, DEVASTATION!! I thought for sure I should be just about complete and ready to push. I finally lost it. Thoughts of an epidural ran through my head, anything to stop the pain. What the HELL had I been thinking? I knew I would be pissed at myself later, but I didn’t care anymore... I just wanted the pain to stop! Since I was lying in bed, Tiffany again suggested I try another position. As the pain of another contraction ran through me, I just started crying in pain and saying “I can’t do this! I need something to get through this.” She and Jeff asked me to get through just three more contractions with them and I remember shaking my head and begging “Please don’t make me!” Realizing I was at my max, she suggested I try some Nubane. Just a little something to take the edge off of the pain and help me progress the rest of the way. That was all it took! I actually relaxed enough to doze for the next half hour, while lying on my side. Feeling most of the contractions, but actually sleeping through a couple of them, I woke up to the urge to push. It was 10am and the nurses came in to check me again. I was 100% effaced, almost complete, aside from a small lip of cervix and the baby was very low. They kept me lying on my side and by 10:15, I was ready to push.
Having been at this for well over 24 hours already there was no way I was going to make it through another 2-3 hours of pushing. I was bound and determined to get the baby out as soon as possible! I have no idea how many pushes I did, but I know that I made each one count. Aside from popping just about every blood vessel in both my eyes, I focused all my effort in the right area and before long Garett’s head was crowning. Although Jeff had said that he would be staying above the waist line during this part, he was caught up in the wonder of the moment and couldn’t help but watch the miracle of our son coming into the world. I remember feeling his head come out, realizing in just moments I was about to meet and hold my baby. Dr asked Jeff if he wanted to call the sex of the baby and in the next instant he was delivered, letting out his first cry and Jeff proclaimed that we indeed had ourselves a healthy Baby Boy. Garett Roland came into this world at 10:53 am, weighing 8# and measuring 21 inches. I instantly started sobbing as he was placed on my chest for some skin to skin contact and Daddy cut the umbilical cord.
I could not take my eyes off him and just kept touching him, kissing his head and telling him how much I loved him. The look of pride, awe and wonder on my husband’s face, as he embraced us both, and said to me “Can you believe we made him” made me cry even harder. He said he was so proud of me and that he loved me more now than he ever had. I held Garett skin to skin for the first hour or so after his birth. During that time he nursed on both sides, latching on like a champ, while I simply stared at the wonder of him.
Jeff then got to spend quality Daddy time with him while they weighed and measured him and then helped the nurses with his first bath. Yes, I may be biased, but I have never seen a more proud Daddy than I did that day. Watching him interact and admire our son made me fall even more in love with him also.
Despite the ups and downs we went through and the length of the L &D process, to say the experience was anything but amazing would be an understatement. From the time my water broke to the time Garett was born, 34 very Iong hours passed. It was definitely a long haul, but a wonderfully incredible experience in every way. And if it is at all possible to have more appreciation and admiration for my Dr than I already did, I most certainly do now. He was accommodating to our birth plan wishes and beyond patient with us every step of the way. He continued to let us try things our way, suggesting various courses of action but never pressuring us one way or the other. I don’t believe we would have experienced Garett’s birth as naturally as we did had we been working with any other doctor. For that, I will be forever grateful and I truly hope that we are fortunate enough to have him help us bring another miracle into this world!
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