Birth story; Part 2

Sorry for being MIA. Jack and I "vacationed" in Gackle for the weekend. We are now back into our routine in Williston.

We arrived at the hospital, loaded up with all our bags, registered and I was wheeled up to a room. And then we waited. And I mean we waited. 

It took a few hours to even have them hook me up to an IV. My sister had planned to come keep me company that weekend, but took off to Bismarck when I told her we would be induced today. She got to the hospital (a three hour drive for her) before anything had started. For someone waiting to have a baby, it felt like such a long time. 

Finally I was hooked up (that was my first IV ever, and it took her three pokes to get the biggest, nastiest needle in me). A nurse came in and checked my cervix - still 1 cm. A few hours later they inserted the first pill of Cytotec into my cervix. 

Nothing seemed to happen for a while, plus I had no idea what to look for since I hadn't felt any contractions yet. Then I started feeling pain in my lower back. Not pulsating, really. It didn't come and go, it was just constant. The pains were accompanied by this hollow feeling in my stomach (a feeling I'd felt here and there for the past few weeks.) 

My sister arrived, we waited and hung out in the room. My mom arrived, still nothing was really happening. Another dose of Cytotec. Yeah, can you say OUCH? That did not feel good, nor did them continually checking my cervix  (which was still at 1 cm) since the Cytotec makes everything inside there soft and very raw. 

Contractions, I now knew what they felt like FOR SURE, started coming consistently and gradually closer and  closer. At one point a nurse asked me to rate my pain - I said a six. After she left Scott asked if it was really a six or if it was less, because a six was pretty up there. I said I guessed not, I could handle a lot more pain, so I made it a point to be more "real" about the pain level. 

It was getting late and not much was happening, which was extremely discouraging. I assumed I'd go in and, at the latest, maybe seven or eight hours later we would have our baby. Mom and Lindsay decided to leave to get some sleep so they went to my dad's cousins house to shower and get some shut eye. We said we would call if anything happened. 

Scott was already getting stir crazy. He needs to be doing something, and here we were in this big waiting game doing nothing. Well, I was in labour, contracting, hooked up to monitors, uncomfortable, in the most uncomfortable hospital gown with my butt showing most the time, getting my hoo ha continually probed and prodded. But he was doing nothing. Ha!

I joke, but really, I could't have and wouldn't have ever wanted to go through all I went through without him. Since I was hooked to the fetal monitor and the contraction one, I was to ring the nurse when I needed to go to the bathroom. That happened a few times, but Scott took over and would unhook me, help me get up and walk over to the bathroom and then help me back into bed again. He filled my cup with ice chips 17,329 times, brought me supper (kindly, after leaving me in the room by myself to go eat with my sister and TGIF - secretly it was nice because that short quiet time alone was really just what I wanted), laid in bed with me. I think he would have done literally anything I asked that day. And I love him so much for that. 

When I started having contractions, Scott was by my side, asking if he could do anything. But after a few hours it got to be the middle of the night and the room was dark and there was just nothing he could do to help me through the contractions, so he decided he'd try to get some sleep on the couch. 

I think this is the time that gave me the worst taste in my mouth for being in the hospital and being in the process of having our baby. It just wasn't a fun time. I was irritated that my body wasn't progressing, I was uncomfortable, I was tied down to the bed with the stupid monitors, even our baby's heart beat sound was annoying me (I'm a terrible person, I know) and I turned the sound down. 

It was dark and quiet in the room and I couldn't sleep. The contractions were intense, painful and barely giving me a break in between. I quietly got through each peak and desperately tried to get comfortable with no avail. That was one of the worst parts - just physically not being able to get comfortable. And since my BP was high, I was to lay down on my side. I didn't want to lay down and I definitely didn't want to lay on my side. Even switching sides was a process because the monitors had to be moved. 

Nurse came in, dose 3 of Cytotec. And boy, did that hurt like hell. It was probably 3 a.m. by now and I was so incredibly irritable. After a half hour it felt like the second pill hadn't fully been used and the third pill had kicked in and overlapped the second pill because the pain started getting so incredibly intense. There was about 5 seconds, literally, between contractions in which I had little relief. My big round tummy was hard as a rock and I was now moaning and gripping the side rail through each contraction. I have never, ever felt pain like that.

The sweet night nurse came in to ask for my pain rating. I told her probably a seven (being honest  with the numbering - even though the pain was a lot, I knew the pain could get much more so I wanted a few numbers left to be able to use the next time during another dose of Cytotec or, God forbid, when the Pitocin started.) She was a little shocked and said I had a high tolerance of pain. That made me feel good. 

Since my contractions were so hard and so close together, the nurse said she didn't think I would even have to have Pitocin (since Pitocin just increases the intensity of contractions) and that the Cytotec was working well enough. I just had to continue to dilate and continue like I was. A painful waiting game, I though. 

She could see my pain and asked if I wanted to jump in the shower, that the warm water might feel good on my hard belly. I took her up on that, anything to get out of that damn bed. She started helping me, but Scott came and took over. She was a great nurse and all but I just wanted my husband. I didn't want her touching me anymore. 

I hobbled, hunched over, to the bathroom, Scott undressed me and turned the water on. I got in. It was nice but didn't give me the relief I had been wanting. Scott came in and opened the curtain and just talked with me. Then he left me alone. After 10 minutes I decided that was enough. Scott dressed me again and then back to bed for me. 

I had never been apposed to getting an epidural. I knew I would get one, I wasn't trying to be a hero. But the nurse said most people wait until the pain is pretty high to get one - usually around 7 cm. That made me feel like a big wuss, since my 1 cm pain was pretty darn painful to me. I was still at 1 cm but this Cytotec induced pain was getting to me (I had to remind myself that being induced made labour pains a lot harder and that getting pain meds was not shameful). So, in an effort to man up, at around 5 a.m. I just asked for the IV pain meds. She gladly brought them to me and said it wouldn't get rid of the pain but it'd take the edge off, like having a few too many cocktails. 

Immediately I could feel myself getting a little loopy. And it was so wonderful. I could still feel the contractions, but just the peaks. I actually got some staggered sleep. 

At 7 a.m. we still hadn't had our baby, nor were we even close. My doctor came in to check me. I was 2 cm! Even that little progress was welcomed at this point. She decided the next step would be to break my water, since something had to be done to keep the process going. 

I had no idea how that was going to work, but she literally had this long, thin rod/stick/pole and shoved it up there. It didn't hurt at all and all of a sudden I could feel a warm gush of fluid. A lot of fluid. Like I was incontinent and wetting the bed. 

The doctor stood up to wash up while the nurses changed the pads I was laying on. The nurse that had been with me all night was moving some things around down there when this worried look came across her face while she was checking things out. She looked for a while and then looked a little harder with a slightly shocked and concerned face. Then she asked my doctor to come look.

After the doctor checked, she said, "You're bleeding more than you should be. Your placenta may have ruptured."