RAINBOWS & BUTTERFLIES
Now that we were officially accepted into the magical Labor & Delivery Floor, we were passed on to the other nurses. A pretty blonde one attacked my hand with an IV needle while another gorgeous dark nurse with long eyelashes came to push me to my room. Maybe they all looked pretty because I was frumpy in comparison, or maybe they looked beautiful in my eyes because they were my angels of deliverance--no pun intended. I was ecstatic that my dream of becoming a mother was in sight.
The pretty blonde nurse, PBN, asked me if and when I'd like to receive an epidural. I answered "Yep, and I dunno." I asked her if getting an epidural too early increases the risk of prolonged labor. Yikes. She and GDNWLE agreed that, in their observing experience it usually did not, and PBN added, "You're suffering, but it's totally up to you." That was a nice thing to hear at that moment, that she noticed that I was in pain. Now I felt justified for wanting to have a baby with a little (a LOT of) help from medication. So I said, "Okay, now would be good." GDNWLE said she'd be sure to tell my next nurse because it was now 5:00 AM and they were hitting the shift change. So my triage bed, IV bag, and I were transferred over to a huge labor room in the corner of the unit with nice windows and a bed for my poor sleep-deprived husband.
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| Happy to be IN! Dan and Renae (bro & sis) ended up eating those suckers, lucky duckys. |
It was then that we were slightly forgotten about. We hung out for awhile waiting for the next nurse, tried to rest between mean contractions, and Brian helplessly watched me writhe with pain every so often. I eventually just stood up again...WOO much betta. I unhooked myself from the baby monitors and scooted to the bathroom with my portable IV. After my bajillionth restroom use since we got to the hospital, I came back and hooked myself back up to the pink and blue monitors and Brian agreed that we should push the nurse call button so we could be remembered again. Love that thing.
Then in came nurse #4, let's call her "Somewhat Bossy". She came in around 5:30 after we called the desk, and apologized for her absence. Apparently the monitor that monitored my monitor's monitoring was not showing up at the nurse's desk. So it was like we weren't even here, sneaky us. Bossy said baby and I looked good and gave us a ton of paper work....yahda yahda yahda. Before she left to continue her run, I asked if I could please maybe get an epidural, and we got on the list. She came back at around 5:45 with the epidural form for us to sign, and while we were signing it the Anesthesiologist peeked his head in the door. Before he or I said a word, Bossy said, "There's a lady in room ---- that's in pain, I think she's fine here". Pain Dr. said, "I only have time for one before I leave." So Bossy, my new spokesperson, sent him away and explained to me that room lady ---- was already dilated to 4 cm, and that this was her 5th child, so she needed him STAT. I was okay with it. I must not have been in pain if my nurse didn't think so.
At around 6:00 AM the second pain exterminator, Dr. Patel, peeked his head in our door while Bossy started to administer antibiotic into my IV. He asked if we were ready, and before I could utter a word in the affirmative she sent him away again to care for another worse-off patient. I was starting to believe Bossy didn't care for me much, or maybe I needed to let some screams loose to help her understand that I didn't have much pain tolerance left. Funny thing is, I can't really recall what these hard contractions felt like, exactly. I just remember that I felt hopeless and labor pains seemed endless and remarkable.
After saving a patient more worthy than I, Dr. Patel silently entered with a kind smile and swiftly prepared his supplies and asked me to sit up, scoot toward the edge of the bed, and bend over. This was a hard position to achieve being a round person at the time, but during fast, fierce, contractions it was quite miserable. Somewhat Bossy told Brian, "This is when the husband holds her hands for support." He wanted to watch, as did I, but this was no subtle suggestion, so he grabbed my hands. I felt a strange, hard pop when the needle entered my epidural space, and I yelped an embarrassing little, "Ooo!" I thought that he had spilled cold water onto my lower back, but if was just the cool pain killers running down my spine. The catheter was threaded into the puncture and taped up to my back. I was resituated onto my side, with an awesome wedge pillow that I wish I had all my pregnant life. I was still making hard fists and gasping for air as I contracted, and I remember Bossy saying, "Wow, you must be in a lot of pain. You can push this button for another dose whenever you need it." Now you notice, geez.
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| Woof. |
Gradually, the epidural starting to set in and the waking world finally released me. I think I woke up around 7:30 when nurse #5 came in to tell me that Dr. Swift would be on his way to break my water before he went to speak at 9:00 church. Oh yeah, it was Sunday. I'm not exactly sure when they added Pitocin to my IV cocktail, but I was so tired and relaxed that I didn't care about what was being pumped into my body. I was in and out of sleep, Brian was dead to the world, and nurses came in and out to check my dilation, contractions, and baby's HR.
Swifty casually stopped by in his church clothes around 8:30 AM. He joked around with the nurses about the Religion of Delivering Babies, checked me out, and said he'd be back after church when we're ready to have her. Apparently he broke my water while he was down there, but he was so fast and "ladedah" about things that I didn't even know it happened 'til the nurse told me later.
Brian was being cute and looking out of our awesome windows at Lifeflight in his spacious bed.
We called in the parents to tell them to expect a grandbaby around noon (when Swifty's church was over), and I turned on the TV and hugged my phantom contracting belly. It was cool to see the contraction line on the monitor tower and feel my tummy harden with my hands but not feel a lick of pressure from my lower back on down. I settled on a silly "Snake Hunter" show on Discovery; Brian was disgusted and intrigued. 10:00 AM is my best estimate of when I started to feel NAUSEATED, like Holy Cow I Think I Am Going To Barf nauseated. So I alarmed B-dawg with a gentle, "
Brian"....and then
Blehhhhh last night's pizza all over me. Brian jumped up to my aid and asked if I was done, and I replied with a second
Bleehhhh, only this time I tried to cover my mouth and catch some of it. Bad call. It was like putting your thumb over a hose nozzle, and it launched surprisingly far, I think I may have hit Brian's shoe from where he was standing. He finally got me a hospital utility barf bag, and he pushed the nurse call button.
Nurse asked, "Hello, what can we do for you?"
Brian started with, "Uh, she's..." and I finished with, "
Bleehhhhhhh". Brian didn't need to really finish that statement, but he did, and when the nurse hung up we both laughed so hard. We were covered in pizza puke. That was the speediest throw-up gig I've ever been through, my nausea came in like a banshee and triggered my gag reflex way before any of us could prepare for it. It was awesome, and rather astonishing.
I felt so bad for the nurse that came to clean me up (and the bed, and the room), but she acted like it was regular procedure, nbd. I kept apologizing while she replaced a few of my linens and got things back in order, and she said, "Well, I guess we should check you now. A lot of times new mothers throw up when they are about a 7. In fact, it may have helped you dilate further." Sweet.
She checked me and we were just under that, about a 6 or 6 & 1/2. The Pitocin and my broken amniotic sac were really speeding things along. I love modern medicine. She also added Zofran, anti-nausea medication, into my IV. I had this once before in my early pregnancy when I stayed in Delta's ER. It makes you sooo sleepy, so I drifted back into my catnap and the hours blurred by.
Approx.12:00 PM. Enter stage right: Somewhat Bossy. Other nurses had been checking my progress periodically, and now that I was getting close to my complete 10 cm Capt. Bossy was back. She was to be with me during Scarlett's birth. She gloved up and measured me out to full dilation. I was passively glad; I had no energy for big emotions at this point. She called Dr. Swift and he was almost here, so she said we could practice pushing now. She gave me a very direct pep talk, and told me what I was going to do: she would say "push!" at the start of a contraction, I would push until she counted to 10 and take a rest. I must add that she told me to push just like you'd push for a bowel movement. Ever since I was old enough to know where babies came from, I have wondered what pushing a baby outta there would be like.
She explained that it usually took new moms about an hour of pushing until delivery.
No prob, with an epidural, I could do this all day, I thought. We gave it a go. "Wow, good push," she said. We gave it a second go. "Umm.. let's not push anymore until the doctor gets here." Brian and I were impressed with me. Hurray. Swifty came in and took his position as baby catcher. I took orders from Bossy (she really was an awesome coach), and then she muttered, "She has hair."
Ooooooh, she has hair! She's a person! She's real! Brian smiled and told me how much and what color and good job, Nat. Twenty minutes from my first practice push she was out and squirming on my chest. She cooed little baby wails (I expected loud screams, like in the movies) and kept blinking her eyes to see where the heck she was at. My first thought was,
Oh man, I want to do this again. This is the coolest thing I've ever done. And then fairy dust and rainbows & butterflies filled the room, and everything was perfect and calm. I knew I had a Heavenly Father who loves me, and I knew that she and I and Brian were eternal. Nothing could separate us now.
Scarlett and I meeting on the outside of my uterus. The nurses were sucking all the gunk out of her nose and mouth. Don't worry that's just a piece of my arm and some belly below her.
The NICU nurse had to help her out with some Oxygen. I honestly wasn't worried at any time, the nursing staff seemed fully equipped and well trained, and most importantly, nice.
One of the older nurses whistled at her healthy chub. "Mom must've been eating her mashed potatoes and gravy," she said.
She was already attached to him, poor girl didn't stand a chance.
A few minutes later she met her two sets of grandparents and put a spell on them to make them love her they way only g-parents can love. We then transferred to our Post-Partum room. I couldn't move my legs so I was lifted like a rag doll, and later when I decided I was ready for my first walk to the bathroom, I fell into my nurse's arms. It was romantic. Our hospital stay was a magical time where we ate room service meals, saw a lot of family, learned how to nurse (a skill that is completely invaluable), flashed many hospital personnel (learning how to master that skill), slept at 2 hour intervals, and cuddled and stared and awed at Scarlett Claire.
That's our baby Scar's birth story. Amen.
