So, here is the LONG version of my birth story. I'm taking advantage of some quiet time while my little angel sleeps for a minute.
My labor actually started about 2 weeks before I gave birth. On May 5 while I was at church, I started having some pretty consistent contractions. When I stood up, I felt like Lucia was going to just fall out of me. In the afternoon, the contractions tapered off and soon it was just the normal last month of pregnancy pains. That Wednesday I had an appointment with my OB. He checked for dilation and said that I was dilated to a 2, nearly 3 cm. He stripped my membranes, which is supposed to help induce labor naturally. He also said he would be surprised if I didn't have the baby that week. And I, thinking doctors would know better than to give a 9 month pregnant woman the false hope of imminent labor, was convinced that he was right.
All week I waited for that moment when the contractions would come on so strong and I would just know that it was time. But that moment never came. The next week, on May 12, Mother's Day, I started having contractions again during church. I started timing them, and they seemed very consistent. I thought, "This is it! Perfect day to have a baby!" So we went to the hospital. And the contractions stopped. The nurse checked me and said I was 4 cm dilated and 70% effaced. But they kept me for over an hour and the contractions never came back.
They sent me home, telling me to go for a walk, take a nice relaxing bath, and they'd probably see me back that night. (More false hope!!) The contractions didn't come back that night. I was pretty much convinced that my baby would never come out.
Wednesday I had another appointment with my doctor. He said, "You're still pregnant!" At that point he started talking about the possibility of induction. Although I was still about 5 days BEFORE my due date, my doctor was worried about me having preeclampsia. I was carrying a LOT of water weight, my feet were swollen like crazy, and he said he'd seen signs of protein in my urine. He said it wasn't enough to have an emergency induction or anything, but that I should consider that option.
I know that if I was induced, it would be nearly impossible for me to have my baby naturally, the way I had been planning. I had read about women who gave birth with Pitocin without any kind of pain medication, but I'd also read that it was extremely difficult. So after Diego and I left the doctor's office that day, I was determined to start my labor using every and any trick in the book.
And we did. We went to Rubio's and I tried to hottest salsas that they had. I bounced on my yoga ball for over an hour. I did birth meditation, imagining myself going into labor. I walked around my entire neighborhood, in the rain, handing out thank you cards from my baby shower. Diego was so supportive, walking around everywhere with me.
And I prayed. I prayed for contractions. I told Heavenly Father that I knew it was all in His time table, but if He didn't mind, I would like to have my baby without having to be induced.
That night, May 15, I started having contractions again. They weren't the ones that are so painful you can't talk through them though. I was watching my brother play Zelda. That seemed to keep the contractions going for some reason. (Really weird induction technique...watching old video games...) I didn't bother timing them, because they didn't hurt bad enough. I finally went to bed around 11pm, praying still that the contractions wouldn't stop, but that they would get stronger and more consistent.
I woke up at 3am, still with contractions, but still not super strong. Since I couldn't go back to sleep, I decided to take a shower and see if it would help with the pain. It did a little, and from there I decided to do some more bouncing on my yoga ball. Around 4:30 Diego woke up and asked how I was doing. By that time, I had started timing my contractions. I was having them about every 5 minutes, but they still weren't at that point where women start crying and panting and so forth. I wondered if they ever would get to that point.
Around 5am I called the hospital and asked if I should come in. I told them I had been having consistent contractions for over 2 hours. They told me to take a bath for 20 minutes and see if the contractions would go away. And if they didn't, that I should come in.
I took a bath, the whole time praying that my contractions wouldn't go away. And they didn't. So we headed to the hospital.
By the time we got checked in and settled into a room it was nearly 6am. I was still pretty convinced that my contractions were going to stop at any moment and they were going to send me home again. I hadn't even had Diego bring in our hospital bag because I didn't want to get my hopes up. But the contractions kept coming, consistent but not super painful. By 7am I text my doula and asked her to come. I was dilated to a 4 plus (whatever "plus" means, I think it was just the nurse's way of cheering me up, since I was basically the same that I was before), and about 90% effaced.
The nurse came to put an IV in me, which I declined. She insisted that I have at least an IV prep in my arm. I knew they were going to make me have one, but I was still not happy about it. It's not the needle. I don't even care, you can poke me all you want. It's just annoying having that contraption stuck in your arm all day. I asked if there was some kind of waiver I could sign, saying that I knew all the super dangerous things that could happen to me for not having an IV in, but she said there wasn't. Apparently, nobody refuses the IV.
She also brought in a bag of Pitocin. By that time, Diego had gotten the hospital bag that had our Birth Plan in it, and the nurse had already read through it. So I asked her what the Pitocin was for. She said that it was to help my uterus contract after I had the baby, so that I wouldn't hemorrhage. I said, "Uhm, no thanks. I don't want it. I know I'm not legally obligated to have it, and I don't want it. If I'm hemorrhaging after birth, we'll deal with it then." The nurse looked a bit taken aback, but she took the Pitocin away. And I felt more empowered than ever!
Laura (my doula) arrived around 8 am. The contractions kept on going, but I was still waiting for that crazy pain that I'd heard so much about. Don't get me wrong, they were painful. But I could handle them. Every contraction that came, I was able to breath through it and stay calm.
Around 11am I was dilated only to 5 cm. The doctor on call (not my OB, but another doctor), came in and broke my water to help things along. I think that's when it hit me that this was for real, not another false alarm. Because after your water is broke, there's no turning back. Contractions continued. I was able to stay calm through them all. I kept reminded myself that I had prayed for this pain, and it was what was going to bring my baby out.
Things started getting fuzzy around this time. I remember a LOT of water. I had no idea that my body was capable of holding so much water, or blood or whatever was pouring out of me. I felt like a faucet. I labored a little on the birthing ball, and some in the bathroom, but mostly on the hospital bed. I also remember throwing up a couple of times, although it wasn't too bad. I had been keeping myself hydrated with water and ice chips. I also remember that my legs kept cramping up, which seemed to hurt more than the contractions.
The contractions must have been getting stronger, but I didn't really notice. Laura said, "The only thing you have control of is your breathing." I remember thinking, "Well, that seems easy enough." So I just focused on breathing. Those hours passed by in almost an out of body experience. It was like that time when you are just about to fall asleep but you are still awake, but you start to dream. And I was dreaming about Zelda. (That's what I get for watching Peter play Zelda the night before).
I remember that I stayed at 7 cm for a LONG time. It seemed longer, I think, because they checked me 3 times, and each time I was still at 7 cm. I didn't know what time it was; I refused to look at the clock on the wall. I know that Ashlee, our birth photographer, came around 3pm, and I was still at 7 cm. I felt bad that I wasn't dilating faster. I knew that Diego and Laura were both tired and I wanted to make things go faster. I remember shouting, "Why am I not dilating?!?"
Finally, around 4pm, the nurse checked me and said those sweet sweet words, "9 and a half." I'd finally dilated to 9.5 cm, and I was 100% effaced. The nurse said that if I felt like pushing now, I could, because the last half of a centimeter would probably go away with the pushing of the baby's head.
I didn't really feel like pushing though. I tried a little, but I didn't make too much of an effort. Around 5pm I was ready to have this baby already. I remember thinking that it wouldn't be long now. I'd heard that the hardest part was transition, and that hadn't seemed that hard to me.
But the hardest part was definitely pushing. Now, all of the sudden, instead of focusing on breathing, I was supposed to hold my breath and push. And I was so tired. They put a mirror at the foot of the bed so that I would be able to see my baby come out. The doctor came in after a while and said that the baby was posterior, facing down, which is why my pushing was doing little good. And also most likely why it had taken me so long to dilate. He said he was going to turn her. That did not sound fun. And it wasn't!! It hurt like HECK! Worse than anything thus far. But then things finally started progressing.
It helped that the doctor was kind of a jerk. Because the whole time I had been pushing, Diego, Laura, and the nurses had been very kind. Every time I'd push they'd say, "Good job, you are doing great." But the truth is, I was so tired, I wasn't even trying that hard. The doctor, on the other hand, kept saying, "Push harder! You are not pushing hard enough!" And that made me mad, because I knew it was true. So I thought, "Okay, if I just push really really hard, then it will finally be over!"
The doctor insisted on an episiotomy. He said that if he didn't cut me, I would probably tear anyway, and it would take a lot longer for Lucia to come out. At that point, I just wanted my baby. So I said it was fine.
The first thing we saw was her hair. Well, that's what everyone else saw. I didn't see it, but Diego did. When he saw her, he got very emotional. That gave me the strength I needed to keep pushing, because I was at the point of giving up.
Then I saw her. But it seemed like every time I would push, she would get closer to coming out, and then I'd breathe and she would get farther away. It was very frustrating. Finally, after about 3 hours of pushing, her entire head was out. But I was sooo tired, and there was still one final push needed to get her whole body out. So I took a moment to gather up my strength, with her whole head just hanging out, and then I gave the final push.
Oh my goodness, I can't even describe the moment that Lucia arrived. The put her directly on my chest. Diego cut the cord. I remember thinking, "I can't believe that this human being just came out of me." She had the most beautiful cry (that I am listening to right now, 2 weeks later...we've heard a lot of it).
So that's pretty much the story. Recovery has been good. Lucia and I are both very healthy and we were able to leave the hospital on the Saturday afternoon after she was born.
And now I have to go help Diego get our baby to stop crying. :)
