mercurial scribe

Continued from The Labor Saga - part 1…

We loaded everything into the car - the backpack with clothes and baby supplies, the aforementioned car seat, me in labor. The ride was quite smooth but then again it was 4 am on a Monday morning - even the Orange Crush doesn’t create traffic at that hour.

We arrived at the hospital and had to use the Emergency Room to enter, which was actually empty which shocked Justin.

“I’ve never seen this place empty,” he replied as I waddled up to the admitting desk. He was a seasoned visitor after my 6-day stay in the hospital from the hypertension.

“Just wait until 6 or 7,” I retorted just as another contraction hit. “Heart attack hour is on Mondays just before work.”

Just like me to be touting off random factoids in mid-contraction.

Within an hour, they had hooked me up to a fetal monitor which showed that Miri had a strong heartbeat and that my contractions were indeed at four to five minutes apart for forty-five seconds. But it wasn’t until after the nurse confirmed I was dilated 4 cm that I relaxed a bit. This was indeed the real deal.

At this point it was 5 am and Justin took to calling all the grandparents. From this point on the timeline gets a little skewed.

The nurses had a hard time finding a vein for the IV because of the edema. In fact, they ended up poking me a total of 14 times, 8 of which were the anesthesiologist with 6 needles in me all at once at one point. Did I mention I’M A NEEDLEPHOBE?

Then the jackass has the nerve to question me. He asked if I wanted an epidural, to which I said no. “Why do that to yourself? Why torture yourself?” he asked. I looked at him like he was insane to be so pushy. Justin later told me I should have called him a wussy but with a p. I wanted to laugh but I hate hearing that word as an insult.

Later, all the parents came filing in. I was glad to see them and I really wanted this show on the road.

Somewhere in the late afternoon of the 24th, my OB Dr. S came in and explained that labor had not processed any further than 4 centimeters so he was recommending inducing with pitocin intravenously. I cringed but okay, it’ll get this moving right?

“I also think you should get the epidural.”

No. Friggin’. Way.

He explained he was very concerned because during the labor my blood pressure was again elevated to 140/95 (a continuing nightmare of PIH). The epidural, he said, would help maintain my blood pressure by numbing some of the pain. In fact, he insisted.

And I, not trusting my instinct over the doctor’s, agreed.

Since I’m writing this you know I didn’t stroke out or something. However, this epidural was the worst part of labor. In fact, it has put me back 10 years of overcoming this fear. Hello, severe aichmophobia! Welcome the frick back!

First, they wouldn’t let Justin stay in the room with me while they inserted the epidural. They said it was for legal purposes since once this one guy fainted, hit his head and didn’t live. So that freak accident took away my only source of calmness at that point.

Second, I couldn’t stop shaking partly from the blood pressure medication Dr. S had me on (I became cold anytime I took off a blanket or my socks and would shiver) and partly from sheer fear. So what does the anesthesiologist do? He tells me “I need you to stay perfectly still because I could hit your spinal cord incorrectly with the needle and paralyze you.” WTF?!

Third, the epidural only numbed me for the first 3 hours or so it was in, which means by about midnight I was feeling everything. By 2 am I was so sick I was starting to retch despite the fact I hadn’t eaten in well over 24 hours at this point. I was pissed, I was in pain and it was 31 hours into labor at this point.

At 6 am I was begging the nurses for some food. I hadn’t eaten since about 1 am on Monday morning - hour 6 for those of you who are counting. But all I got was stocism until one of the nurses let it slip that Dr. S did want me to eat in case they had to do an emergency c-section.

A what?!

“Well, you haven’t moved along,” the petite nurse told me quickly. “You’re still at 4 centimeters despite the pitocin and he’s worried about your blood pressure. Don’t worry - he’ll be in mid-morning and he’s already prescribed a different inducing agent which I’ll be administering shortly.”

I looked at Justin. I was exhausted. I was angry. I was starving!

“He’ll be here soon,” Justin said, trying to comfort me. “Really soon.”

Keep reading at The Labor Saga - part 3…