At 37 weeks pregnant, I went to the doctor for my weekly routine check-in, and arrived a few minutes late. My blood pressure was high enough to land me on bed rest, and when we went in for our first round of tests, we thought we might induce that day. But we didn't. Instead I was put on bed rest for a couple of weeks and my doctor monitored both of us very closely. At 39 weeks, babies are considered full-term, and induction is an option. "She won't give us a choice," my husband and I said to one another, "doctors just make those kinds of decisions because of the mother's health or the baby's."
Imagine our surprise when I walked into my 39 week appointment and my doctor cheerfully asked, "So, what would you like to do?" I think I recall her lifting my jaw up off of the floor for me. Suddenly, I was faced with a HUGE decision regarding my daughter's life. My husband had met me there, and he was as surprised as me. We asked my doctor (who, by the way, I love so much, and would recommend to anyone) if we could think about it, and she said yes. I was due in for another test the next day, so we went home to talk.
I fell apart. On the one hand, I was so, so, SO, SOOOOOO done being pregnant. Like, so over it. But I felt like that wasn't a solid enough reason to induce, because I knew that the longer she was in there, the better for her. However, the doctor did say it would be OK. And some babies come naturally that early. And really, what difference does a few days make? But then again, what's a few more days of being pregnant? Really, I'd made it this far, I could make it a few more days. But then I was terrified of going into labor at home. But people kept telling me how awful pitocin is. Around and around it went.
Now, the ultimate decision came down to two factors, and you can not judge me for the second one. I'm baring my soul here. The first deciding factor was something Rob said to me when I mentioned what a big decision it was: This is just the first of many big decisions we'll have to make for our daughter, and we can't go around second guessing every decision we make for her. The second factor was not so deep: We could induce on a Friday night and be out of the hospital by Monday, and the Ducks were on a bye week. Yes, we timed the birth of our child around a Duck football game. I said you couldn't judge me. We don't regret it.
So in we went on Friday night, September 26th, to be induced. My doctor had explained that I would receive several doses of one medication in order to ripen my cervix and help me dilate before the pitocin the next morning. "Most people sleep through it, so bring books, music, overnight stuff, and I'll come visit on Saturday morning." The nurse even gave me an Ambien to help me sleep because so many moms are too excited to sleep, but need the rest. At 9:45pm, I was given my first dose of the dilation medication, and settled in to read my book. Rob put in his headphones and laid down on the couch. My parents had come to visit, and had gone home to sleep, with plans to return late Saturday morning. We planned on having a baby Saturday evening.
As I was reading, I felt what I assumed was a particularly strong Braxton-Hicks contraction, since I'd had those. I breathed through it and kept reading. But then there was another, and stronger. And another. This time, my breathing was strong enough that Rob looked up from his music. I realized I was clutching the side of the bed. It was 11pm. We called in the nurse - surely it's not supposed to be this intense yet? How do people sleep through this? They kept coming. The nurse (who I call Jessica the Angel) checked me, "Nope, still just 1cm." The contractions were still coming. "Try to relax," said the nurse. She said she'd be back to check on me.
I tried to relax. Suddenly, the contractions were coming stronger and faster, in sets of 2 and 3. They were so painful. (Duh). But I had no time in between to recover. We called the nurse back in. It had been an hour. She checked me. 2 cm. I screamed, "All that for 1 centimeter?!" I wondered how I would make it to 10. We tried everything - changing positions, a birth ball, I tried to walk. Nothing helped. I was stuck on my side, writhing, crying, panting. Rob and Jessica did all they could for me, applying pressure when and where they could, soothing, praising, acknowledging.
Soon it felt like there was absolutely no time between contractions - they were nearly constant. The doctor on call came in to check on me. By 1:00 I was at 5cm. At that point, everyone was surprised how quickly things were progressing. She suggested that the anesthesiologist come just to consult. I agreed, exhausted, in pain, and panicked. Rob sent a text to my parents: "Not sure how things will continue, but she went from 1cm to 5cm in 2 hours." Fortunately, they decided to get up and come in. By the time the anesthesiologist got there, I was at 10cm. Fully dilated. I remember his face, and words coming out of his mouth. Now that I'm done, I know he was getting consent and explaining what he would do, but at the time, all I remember was saying: "Yes. Yes. Yes, just do it. Yes." He tried to wait until a time I was between contractions, but after waiting several minutes, I asked, "Can you do it without waiting for them to stop?" Yes, he could, and that's what we did.
Instant relief. I felt the contractions happen, but the pain was gone. I think I might have slept, actually (Thanks, Ambien!). Rob said it was "trance-like." All I knew was that after hours of non-stop contractions, I could relax. Kind of. I still had to birth a baby. At some point my parents and sister arrived, I think around 3am. I faded in and out of "sleep," while everyone got settled and Rob gave updates. The doctor came in a few times. It was not my doctor, but another one from her office, who I happened to already know, and I was well cared for by her too.
There was a short period of time during which they were concerned about Olivia's heart rate. It would go down after the contractions in a way that they didn't like. They said this showed signs of stress, and if it continued or got worse, we'd look at other options (C-Section). So they hooked her up to a better monitor and kept watch. Soon, Angel Nurse Jessica said that when I felt a contraction, I could do some practice pushes. So I did. I could feel Olivia's little body moving down. Even with the epidural, I could feel some things, which I actually liked. I would ask the nurse, "Can I do another practice?" "Sure," she'd say, as long as you feel up for it. So I figured we'd just do that for a while.
I remember her saying, "Oh, wow, she's coming fast, I'll call the doctor." But whenever I'd ask if I could do another push, she'd say yes, so I would. Then I heard her sounding a bit more urgent on the phone-thingy to get the doctor in the room. Then, all of a sudden, there was a ton of activity. The doctor swooped in, and as I pushed I remember saying, "Was that her head?" and they said that yes, her head was out. The doctor had hardly gotten into the room! Olivia's head was already out by the time the doctor got there.
A few more push sessions and Olivia had entered the world. They handed her to me, purple, wiggling, wailing, and - not kidding - snorting. Snorting like a little pig! Rob cut the umbilical cord, and they threw a little hat on her head. Everyone was smiling and laughing, my family was crying. I didn't cry, and neither did Rob. As he says, he "blew a happy fuse!" I was just so in awe that after so many months, I was finally meeting my baby. I felt her resting on my chest, and even though the nurses and doctors were busy working on me and taking care of us both, all I saw was my beautiful baby daughter, and her little wiggling frame.
Olivia was 6 pounds, 15 ounces and 19.5 inches long when she was born at 5:18am. She had a full head of hair, and has kept it all and then some. Like my doctor said the next morning, "She basically birthed herself!" Olivia was the 8th of 10 babies to be born that night. The doctors said her head was so round because she barely spent any time in the birth canal - no cone head. The nurse asked if I wanted to hear her stats as they were giving her her first bath. I didn't care. She was perfect to me, and alive, and healthy. Rob listened to them, and my mom took pictures of her first bath. My dad and sister cried and hugged, and came to hold my hand. We spent a few nights in the hospital getting help with everything from breastfeeding to swaddling. We had some hilarious, delirious, first parent moments together in the middle of the night. We still have those.
I was so happy with the care we received from the doctors right down to the CNAs. We were happy, safe, and as comfortable as one can be after giving birth, and we got so much help. It was a wild ride, but so worth it. Our Olivia Mae Anne is thriving, and we are so thrilled to be the parents of such a wonderful little lady.
Olivia in the middle of the night her first night. Staring quietly out at me from her crib.
Grateful to be a witness!
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