Samuel’s Birth Story – Part 2

Read Samuel’s Birth Story – Part 1

We arrived at the hospital (for the second time) by 4pm, and there was no question this time that I would be admitted. Into a gown, onto the fetal monitor, IV inserted, blood taken, stack of paperwork completed, security bracelet attached — all while breathing through contractions that were intensifying by the minute. When the nurse checked me, though, I was still just barely 5 cm dilated. Yes, Nick and I knew we had a long night ahead of us.

It’s also worth noting that we had not yet seen the doctor on call — either that morning or later in the day — which was quite upsetting to both of us. The least she could have done was introduce herself! I mentioned to our nurse that my doctor (Dr. C) had told us on Friday that if we ended up in the hospital before our scheduled induction, she may be able to come in to deliver our baby. I wanted Dr. C there in the room with us even more than I thought I would.

Over the next few hours, the contractions became longer and stronger, and Nick never left my side. He counted, he breathed with me, he squeezed my hand, and he brought cold washcloths to drape over my forehead and my neck. It’s so true that labor is as much a mental challenge as it is a physical one, and I honestly couldn’t have done it without him. I’m also not sure I could have done it without Dr. C.

She arrived somewhere around 7 cm and came in to see us before she had even changed out of her street clothes. She was fully aware of our desire to have a natural labor experience, but she also knew how much further I had to go — and just how difficult the pushing stage would be. She suggested I take something to ease the pain, and we decided to start with a dose of Nubain. I wasn’t ready to concede to an epidural, but I also knew I needed something to take the edge off.

Unfortunately, the Nubain made me more loopy than comfortable. And, in hindsight, I would have skipped it altogether. Especially because it was at this point that my family and Nick’s family arrived, and I decided they could each take a turn coming back to say hello. I think my dad may still be scarred by the sight of his daughter in so much pain.

By the time I reached 8 cm, I was completely exhausted. And Dr. C reminded me again that there were still options to manage the pain. After a bit of deliberation, Nick and I decided that I would have an epidural. I knew I had nearly reached my limit, and I was proud of myself for getting so far on my own. I vaguely remember leaning forward in the bed with my arms wrapped around Nick while the anesthesiologist inserted the long needle into my back.

It wasn’t instant relief, but I was surprised by how quickly my body relaxed. My breathing became deeper and more fulfilling, and I didn’t completely lose sensation in my legs, though I could barely feel the contractions. The only side effect I experienced were chills. I certainly no longer needed those cold washcloths.

Our families came back one final time, and I’m certain that the relief on my face and body was obvious. Nick even had the opportunity to eat a sandwich before we moved into the pushing stage.

And the pushing stage? Let me just say that nothing could have prepared us for it.

Dr. C declared that I was 10 cm dilated. The nurse rolled in the infant warmer and a table lined with medical equipment. And I was told it was time to sit up and start to push.

I emphasize the word start because I’ve never worked so hard for something in my life.