All's Will That Ends Will: Birth Story, Part 1

As I was preparing to leave the hospital last Thursday, my mom was blow-drying my hair for me and I was musing over the events of the previous 4 days, when this version of the famous Shakespearean phrase popped into my head. Maybe it was the drugs still pumping through my system or maybe it was my fallback sense of humor about scary things that prompted it, but when I had this thought I burst out into giggles and could barely get out through the hysterical laughing, "All's Will that ends Will, Mom!"

And how true it is. Prepare yourself; I'm including lots of details (icky ones also) and it's a pretty long story. Hey -- it was a pretty LONG day!

There's some forestory to the actual story, but I haven't the mental energy to go into all that, for right now, at least. So I'll start with Monday morning, July 6, at 4 AM. The alarm went off, signaling the end of a very fitful night of sleep on my part. We were scheduled to be at the hospital at 6 AM for an induction, following a couple weeks of slowly worsening pre-preeclampsia symptoms (yes, apparently, there is such a thing -- as my doctor put it, "you're on the path"). Dr. Pickler wanted to avoid having me toxic-sick as I went into labor, so the induction was the appropriate choice, and even after all that ended up happening on Monday, I stand by that choice! Anyway, I heard my parents and sister Katie stirring downstairs while Marty started coffee and I jumped in the shower, hands shaking with excited, nervous energy. I couldn't believe the day had actually, finally arrived. Nine months really does begin to feel like ninety months near the end! Despite how early we got up, we ended up running late and I was throwing things into my suitcase when my Kate called me (she was up nursing her own sweet babe at that hour) to wish me well and to give me her love. It was my first favorite memory of the day, and even though I had to rush off the phone, it put such warmth in my heart that I'll never, ever forget it. Thank you, my Kate. Then we hauled all our necessities downstairs -- it looked like I was going on a vacation instead of checking into the hospital! -- and it was time for a quick swallow of my Mama's blueberry muffins and some picture-taking and then we were out the door and on our way. We arrived about 20 minutes late, but I figured since they couldn't start without me, it probably wouldn't be too big of a deal.

Me at 39 weeks, 2 days, on the morning of the induction

The first hour was all administrative stuff. We got assigned our room and then I signed form after form after form, most of which I was too distracted to read properly. I hope I didn't sign away anything valuable...! We also had a quick meeting with the anesthesiologist, and I assured her I'd definitely be wanting her services at some point that day. Then our nurses came on duty at 7 AM and we met the two Rachels. Rachel #1 was a nurse around my age and was mentoring Rachel #2 (fresh out of school, it seemed) through all the procedures, so Rachel #1 really took her time and did things carefully, which I very much appreciated. They were both such sweet girls that I forgave Rachel #1 for a well-placed but painfully done IV -- it made my toes curl, it hurt so bad! At that point I thought, Becky, you can't be a wimp today! Buck up girl!

Then I got changed into my gown and around 8:00, the Rachels hooked me up to a big, fat bag of Pitocin, assuring me since they had to start me on a slow drip, I probably wouldn't feel the effects anytime soon. Then I just sat in bed and chatted with my family until Dr. Pickler arrived around 8:30 to get the show on the road. She checked me and said I was "an almost 2" centimeters, and that she'd like to break my water. I'd decided beforehand that I wanted an epidural before my water was broken, because I knew from the experiences of others that without that bag of water in place, contractions feel about 100 times more intense! I shared this concern with Dr. Pickler and she told me that while she understood my fear, that if I didn't have my water broken, "I could sit on a bag of Pitocin for 2 days with little or no progress" and it was simply too early to get the epidural. Well, I was there to have a baby, dangit, so I didn't want to entertain any notions of little or no progress (oh the irony of THAT...read on). So, I said, "Let's do it, Dr. Pickler." Thus began attempt #1 to break my water. And let me tell you, I used every focusing/breathing technique IN THE BOOK to get through it. Apparently, my cervix was really high and even after much effort, Dr. Pickler -- "a seasoned water-breaker from way back" -- was unable to break my water. That was frustrating, especially since it hurt like the dickens to get through it and gained me nothing! Dr. Pickler then had to leave to do office hours, but told me she'd be back at lunch to try again and that I could happily dilate on my Pitocin drip until she returned. I promised her I'd do my best.

I can't remember when -- around 10:30 AM? -- I started feeling the contractions. The Rachels had slowly upped my Pitocin drip until I was really taking in quite a bit by mid-morning. By this time, also, I'd been assigned a new nurse who'd be with me throughout the day, until the shift ended at 7 PM. This angel's name was Shannon and I don't think I could have asked for a better nurse: she was kind, attentive, sweet, and funny, and took me SERIOUSLY on every point. She was with me during the failed water-breaking attempt #1 and didn't let me get discouraged about it. Anyway, around 11 AM, I told Shannon that I was beginning to get interested in a painkiller of some kind. Now, I was using all my breathing techniques, plus using all my courage and energy to get through the contractions, but it must be said I was on a monster-drip of Pitocin and the stuff ain't kind. Relentless is more like it! So Shannon checked me and said I was pretty much dilated to 3 (I guess they round up?) and I could have an injection of Staidol (I have no idea how this is spelled) to take off the edge until I was more inclined to get the epidural, which for some reason I was still rejecting at this point, thinking it was just too early. She also told me I could have a Staidol injection once an hour, every hour, and that it wouldn't interfere at all with my epidural if I suddenly decided I wanted that, too. Essentially, she didn't have to twist my arm and I felt better as soon as the stuff went into my IV. I felt much more comfortable and even started to doze for awhile. I stayed this way, taking Staidol injections and dozing, until around 1 PM, when Dr. Pickler came back. Right away we started water-breaking attempt #2, and it did not go well. Dr. Pickler had to try 3 different "instruments" (I can't even go there trying to describe the medieval torture devices they keep on hand for poor laboring mothers) and I lost count on how many times she tried. At one point, she sat back, put her hand on my knee, and said "God's trying to tell me something but I don't know what that is." I just looked at her and said, "He's telling you to keep trying because I'm on board here! I want to DO this! Keep going!" Dr. Pickler just looked at me with a half-smile and said something about my determination, and I said something back like, you better believe it!!! I told her, just do what you have to do, don't worry about me, and let's get it done. So, she tried again and I could tell she was not being as considerate of my pain threshold this time, which I oddly appreciated, but like I said, I wanted her to get it done. And with that, it was done -- I felt the gush of water and Shannon, Dr. Pickler, Marty, and I all clapped and celebrated. My first success of the day! Shannon then got me comfortable and settled and Dr. Pickler left, telling me to try not to have the baby before she could get back after 5 PM. We all smiled, especially me, genuinely thinking this was an outlier possibility, at least.

The first 5-10 minutes post-water-breaking, I thought, Hey, this isn't too bad. Then about 15 minutes into it, I started to really feel the contractions, even though I'd just had a Staidol injection at 1 PM and was something like a half-hour away from my next injection. Then in the next 10-15 minutes, I really started to feel some pain. I got out of bed and worked with Marty using the techniques we learned in childbirth class to sway and breathe and meditate through the contractions. This honestly helped a bit, but not a whole lot. Shannon came in and asked how I was feeling, and I told her "not good." She then showed me on the monitor that as soon as my water broke, my body had taken over and gone into its own labor pattern, and I was having contractions on top of contractions -- natural ones on top of Pitocin/chemically-induced ones. She said, no wonder you're in pain! Then Shannon said the magical "e" word and before I could think twice about it, I was signing a release form to receive the epidural. The anesthesiologist reappeared and honestly, I was so uncomfortable by this point that I didn't really hesitate nor have the energy to be scared of the epidural administration process. Shannon let Marty stay with me and he held me close while Shannon watched my contractions and the anesthesiologist gave me directions. I curved my back outward and prepared myself for the "bee sting" and was pleasantly surprised to discover that I barely felt it (maybe it was all those wretched contractions that overwhelmed any other sensation?). The doctor assured me I'd done a great job, taped down the catheter in my back, and watched my blood pressure for a few minutes while the epidural took effect. I felt my legs slowly going numb, though I could still move them somewhat. Soon, I was really feeling good and felt sleepy, too, and the doctor was satisfied that all was well and I'd be comfortable until the pushing stage.

Sadly, that was not to be. To be continued...