Annabelle's Birth Story

This is much more detail than most of you will be interested in, but I want to remember. If you want the reader's digest version, it goes like this: My water spontaneously ruptured but didn't kick start labor. They started me on Pitocin at the hospital and things progressed quickly to an unmedicated birth. Here is the detailed version:

I awoke at 5:30 in the morning to an unfamiliar yet unmistakable sensation. After taking a second for my sleeping brain to process it, I ran to the bathroom. A few minutes later I hear Chris ask from the bed, "so did your water break?" "Yup!"

And just like that we were up. Funny how I seemed to have so much energy at that hour, when on any other day I'd be dragging to get out of bed. Adrenalin much? My heart was racing and it was all very surreal. I knew the rules - 24 hours after your water breaks, that baby must be out! We were going to have a baby today.

But what makes it weird is that I wasn't in labor. I felt great! Which was actually a little disappointing. I'd hoped to be able to get through most of my labor at home, as its just so much easier to get comfortable without wires and monitors all over the place. So there was a part of me that was, when I called the doctor, hoping to be told that I could stay home for awhile, that I didn't need to rush right in. That is not what I was told. I could take a shower, but wasn't allowed to go out for breakfast or anything like that, before I came in. So we called Aunt Betty, got ourselves packed up and cleaned up. All without a single contraction, all in this very weird state of knowing with certaintly that our child is coming today.

Sam woke up a little after 6, he always wakes early if he hears us moving around. He was a bit grumpy because he wasn't really ready to get up, which made me sad. I wanted to get a little loving in before we left. Its like he knew - he was unusually clingy to us. Until Betty arrived, and then he got excited. They got down to playing and he told us to, "have fun at the hospital Mommy and Daddy!" We had talked enough that he knew exactly what it meant that Aunt Betty was there. We gave him long hugs and big kisses and left the two of them sitting in the Thomas tent around 7am.

After quick stops at Walgreen's and McDonald's (we did drive through, so I didn't technically disobey the doctor, and I knew it was my last chance at food until I made it to the postpartum unit...I am so glad we made that stop!) we walked into Labor and Delivery shortly after 7:30. We were asked a few questions and escorted to a room under outpatient observation for "possible water leakage." I tried to explain that there was no "possible" going on here. This was the full blown thing. They didn't seem to get it. So we met bubbly nurse Lindsey whose magic pH strip confirmed a few minutes later that yes, we'd be staying to have ourselves a Leap Year Baby.

Still no contractions. So we take our time with all the admissions questions, consent forms, etc. Nurse Lindsey asked if I remembered all this stuff from last time, and I insisted that we didn't do most of it. She was confused, so we took the opportunity to relay Sam's Birth Story to her. I was then flagged as a "fast laborer" and everyone was to be on notice once things got moving. I agreed to let Nursing Student attempt my IV, being assured that she'd done it before. By the time she left the room, Chris was rather adiment that the only IVs she'd ever placed before were on other nursing students. But Nurse Lindsey fixed it and then did my blood draw herself.

I had a few contractions that the monitor picked up but I didn't feel. With one of them baby's heart rate dropped so I was confined to the bed for 30 minutes. After that they finally checked me - 3cm and 60%. At my appointment the morning before I was 2cm and 50%. Not much progress. Dr. Fogiel came by when she was done with surgery and we chatted a bit. I was allowed to do 2 stints of 10 minute walks, with 10 minutes on the monitor in between. I was called out by everyone on the floor as being a speed walker. Guess that's what happens when you hang out in L&D without actually being in labor. Then it was back to bed. Back in the room Nurse Lindsey gave us some instruction on how to try to get things to move along, and it seemed to work at first, but baby's heart rate didn't like it much so then I had to lie on my side.

Meanwhile, Chris and I are chatting, playing Words with Friends, discussing the implications that a February 29th birthday will have for our child, and trying to narrow down our list of Boy names. Chris even tried to get a little work done. Like I said, not much progress was being made. So when Nurse Lindsey left at noon (her 7 year old was cast as The Big Bad Wolf in his school's afternoon performance), Nurse Jennifer decided that I looked far too pleasant. Nurse Lindsay (yes, another one! I think she was a new hire, Jennifer seemed to be showing her the ropes but she was clearly not new to being an RN) agreed. So they confirmed with Dr. Fogiel via phone and I was started on the slowest possible Pitocin drip possible. Half and hour later and still no action. They upped the dosage ever so slightly. I began to have more contractions that hurt, although there was still no regular pattern to them. Chris seemed to notice a change in my response to them, though, and packed his things away. He began to lightly rub my upper back and it felt so nice - it really helped me relax during contractions. Points for him, because I didn't even know to ask him to do that.

I need to mention the wires. I hate the wires. This is why I wanted to stay home. At this point I was sitting on the exercise ball - we'd brought it with us because it was my saving grace during Sam's labor. Well you know they make you wear a fetal heart rate monitor, and contraction monitor, and I know had two IV lines (Pitocin and fluid). Those stupid monitors hate me - they stayed on so poorly with Sam that they actually gave up on them - the nurses kept coming in to move them because they kept losing the baby's heart beat. It frustrated me because I felt like I shouldn't move for fear of disturbing the stupid monitors. I would like to see them develop something that actually sticks to my body if this type of surveillance is truly necessary. And of course the cords got tangled in everything (Clearly they need to adopt wireless technology). Very, very annoying all around.

So Chris is with me now. At 1pm they upped the Pitocin one more time. This is the last time reference you'll get because I stopped paying attention to the world around me at this point. The contractions were regular and painful enough for me to finally believe that things were actually going to happen today. I hung out on the exercise ball a while longer, with Chris on the stool behind me, and that served me well for a while. I started to actually use some of those breathing techniques they teach you in childbirth class - I never really used them much with Sam. I probably should have. I will note, however, that these contractions didn't feel like I remembered. Not more or less, just different. A few different positions with the ball and the breathing served me well for a bit, and then I needed to try something different. Unfortunately we had reached the point where nothing seemed right. I stood, leaning on Chris for a bit, then tried to get back in bed to see how that went.

The nurses came back in and I asked when I was allowed to know if I'd made progress or not. Truthfully, I wanted to make a call on pain meds. If I was still at 3 or 4cm I was going to call it - epidural and crank the Pitocin. They obliged and I was found to be 5-6 cm. Hmm...right in the middle. I couldn't make up my mind if I should keep going or call in the drug man. He was so good to me last time, but I wanted to know what this whole birth thing really felt like. As I was pondering this in bed, I began to notice that the breathing wasn't working so well anymore. I added a bit a vocalization to the mix and that worked surprisingly well. I also began to notice that the nurses didn't leave this time. Trays were being prepped, gloves laid out, warmer turned on, etc. It took me a bit to realize that this was encouraging news, that it meant they thought my delivery was imminent.

By the time I clued in, I began to accept my pain level a little more and think that I could probably get through this without the drugs. The contractions, by this point, were awful. With the beginning of each wave I would get a pit of dread in my stomach just know what was coming. I'd pant and moan through it, but then be relatively ok between them. I just wished the "between them" was lasting a little longer. And then I started to worry I'd made the wrong choice on the drugs - I was getting tired fast. And this was hurting more.

Then, between two contractions, I admitted to Chris that I'd figured out that if I pushed just ever so slightly during the worst part that it really felt better. I didn't want to tell the nurses because I felt like I was breaking the rules by pushing before I was all the way dilated. He made me tell the nurses. They checked me again - 9cm. Nurse Lindsay hit a button on the side of the bed and told the voice that responded to "Page Dr. Fogiel for a delivery!" The end was in sight. I knew, because I had asked at an appointment, that it takes 7 minutes to get from her office to the delivery room. The nurses seemed fine with my little baby pushes, so we kept going with that. I remember trying to convey a thought that is so clear in my head now: "It is taking all the energy I have to manage the pain with these contractions, I do not think I have the strength to push this child out!" But I couldn't get that out coherantly and no one in the room understood me. That frustrated me more than it should have.

Chris, who could probably tell I was losing it, and being the engineer that he is, told me that "You said it takes her 7 minutes to get here. You've had 4 contractions, two minutes apart since they paged her, so she'll be here any time." So logical, that one. Shortly there after, as I was getting louder, she finally walked in and I could tell that she had hurried. She was telling us that the elevator literally stopped on every floor (she is on the 8th in her building) on the way over. Within a few minutes (Chris says it was more like seconds, so it must have just felt like minutes) she was telling me to start pushing.

I'm very glad that it is now illegal to record these things (for liability reasons). I have no desire to ever see myself and my lack of composure over the next several minutes. Lets just say that getting that head out was far more intense than I anticipated. I was told after my first attempt that screaming - yes I screamed through my first pushing contraction - was very unproductive and that I really couldn't do it again. She told me what I needed to do, and it just sounded impossible. But I tried on the next one and was given much more positive reenforcement for my efforts. I remember saying "I can't do this!" and thinking that this pain would last forever because there was no way I could "push through it." But I think I did it again. Then I remember Dr. Fogiel telling me to to cough really hard and I just thought that was the stupidest thing I'd ever heard. Finally I did it and I heard that the head was out. I thought I was done. Did you know that the shoulders are pretty much as bad as the head? I should have, because I was told that it was Sam's shoulders and not his head that caused more trouble the first time. At least they were a bit quicker than the head. And then I heard one of the nurses say, "he's out!" and I got mad. I didn't want the nurse to announce the gender! But as they moved baby onto my stomach I got a good clear shot - that was no boy! She was crying as they cleaned her up, and I was happy to tell them with certainty when they asked that her name is Annabelle. We never did get around to picking that boy name. Nurse Lindsay called time of birth at 15:04 and I was slightly proud to be able to figure out right there that she was born at 3:04 - less than 3 hours after the first drop of Pitocin hit my IV and 2 hours after any type of patterned labor began.

I wanted to actually hold her, but I couldn't. In fact, when they asked me to lift her so they could put a fresh towel under her I had to tell them that I couldn't. My body was DONE. We knew right away that she was tiny, noticably smaller than Sam was. Chris grabbed the camera and started taking pictures - her earliest picture comes a few minutes later in life than Sam's, as I needed Chris with me and not manning the camera while she was on her way out. But I sent him over with her to the warmer while they checked her out. My head was spinning. I couldn't believe that we had a daughter, I couldn't believe she was here, I couldn't believe how much everything still hurt. I couldn't believe that people wouldn't stop touching me, despite my protests, especially the nurse who came in at the last minute to assist Dr. Fogiel - she clearly is accustomed to dealing with women who are numb and didn't seem to have a gentle bone in her body. I do not like her.

After a few minutes to calm down, I wanted Annabelle back. I knew immediately she was beautiful, but I was claiming that she didn't look like Sam. Of course now I realize just how much she looks like Newborn Sam. It took only a few minutes to get her latched on and we successfully nursed for the first time. Although I still felt really awful, it was a wonderful sensation. Slowly, people started to leave, and then it was just the three of us for about 20 minutes. We kissed her and loved on her until it was time for Chris and Nurse Lindsay to take her to the nursery for her full check-up. I got my first pain meds and we hung around L&D for another hour before we swung past the nursery to peek at her and I was deposited in my postpartum room.

All in all I just can't believe how different my two childbirth experiences were. Nothing about how things began or progressed was the same. But more than that, my mental and emotional state was completely different this time around. Being aware of what was to come served as a detriment in the beginning, causing me a bit of anxiety. But knowing what was, and still is, coming helped me from the second she was born. I was attached faster, she felt like my child immediately. I have confidence in my ability to care for her, but also my ability to love her. I am enjoying her snuggles more and stressing about my lack of sleep less. I miss her when she is in the nursery. She is mine, and she's coming home today!