I mean "getting tortured" while a team of doctors, nurses, my mother, sister and my anxiety-ridden husband standby.
It is still Thursday, July 16 and I have just hit 35 weeks. Full-term is considered 37 weeks gestation even though babies usually hang out until 40 weeks. If you go into labor at any point between 37 and 40+ weeks, doctors are happy to assist you. You can get an epidural when you become painfully uncomfortable. If your labor is progressing slowly, you can walk around to try to move things along. They may even give you Pitocin to speed it up. If you're uncomfortable, you can go crouch in a corner if you so choose.
If you go into labor prior to 37 weeks, none of these things are options. I am preterm so I am pre-medical-intervention. Aside from the director of the NICU coming every few hours to monitor Miss Eva and tell me possible risks to her coming so early, I wasn't given much medical attention because there was nothing they could do for me. They legally and ethically couldn't help my labor along while I was preterm. I understood...but I could have killed each and every one of them.
The NICU doctor was amazing. He reviewed the biophysical information I'd had a few days before and he told me he saw little cause for concern. Eva had been clearly doing her practice breathing so he had reason to believe her lungs were well-developed. He told me about medications they would administer if they weren't. He was very calm, very kind. I may have viewed him differently if I had cause for concern myself. I felt I always knew she'd come early. When I got to the hospital, I took a survey of the energy in the room (I know, I know...call me guru Shire) and tried to determine if it was heavy or light. Did I FEEL like something bad would happen here? Honestly, no I did not. I wasn't worried about my baby. She was strong-willed and capable. She was a fighter and I would be the one she was attacking! I was concerned for my epiduraless-self!
I wasn't allowed to walk around. I wasn't given help to dilate faster. I was told I could get my epidural when my water broke or when I hit 5 cms because there was no going back or pausing at those points. I am not even kidding when I say that I was stuck at 4 cms for 24 hours. With no pain meds and the contractions peaking LITERALLY off the monitor (I have pictures). Not to mention one of my joyous symptoms during labor was "the shakes". I couldn't stop shivering. I wasn't cold. I was simply convulsing...nonstop. Having a baby is a blessing...uh huh...sure it is.
Let me point out that the monitor pole I was attached to chirped like a bird every minute. There are few things I hate more than birds. I asked my doctor what the hell was making that bird noise. Her response, "It's the pole. Some asshole thought making it chirp was cute...it's not, i know." One more thing I wanted to make stop!
FINALLY around 8:30 Thursday evening, my sweet Eva took pity on me and broke my water. My lovely nurse, Chrissy, had the anesthesiologist waiting outside my door and the doctor actually came in and said, "Thank the Lord. I couldn't stand to see you like this anymore!". Epidural was administered without a hitch and I felt warm all over. I settled into a sense of calm and started to pay attention to the elimination round of So You Think You Can Dance on the TV, now that I wasn't delirious and knew that yes, her name IS Cat Deely.
I'd say I had about 15 minutes before the pressure started. Any woman who has given birth knows what I am talking about. It's a rectal pressure like you are going to blow your innards out your asshole and a fierce speed. Only, you're not. We call the nurse. Could I already be 10 cms? Nope...still 5cm. My instructions: DO NOT, under any circumstances, PUSH!
Oh. Ok....suuuuuuuuuuuure.
6.
SIX hours of that pressure, people. I wish I was exaggerating. I really do. Why was it so bad for me? I was one of the lucky few who had the sac refill with water and pool right over my rectum. They couldn't break it for me again because they promised me that if I was able to get to 10 cm with it, when it broke again, Eva would arrive in only a few pushes because she'd ride the wave. My nurse repeatedly tried to break it for me anyway, having experienced this herself with the birth of her son. She couldn't do it. Although I no longer had the intense pain of the contractions thanks to good old Epi-dural, this pressure was by far the worst thing I've ever experienced. If I thought I'd have to do it again, Eva would be an only child. During all the hours of labor and full-force contractions before this, I didn't utter a sound. I was silent and breathing, just requiring someone to watch the monitor to tell me when the contraction was easing. When that pressure began with me having to fight the natural urge to push, you could have heard me 3 stories down: "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK". Matt was panicked for me. "What can I do? Tell me what to do?". There was nothing.
At about 2:30am, I finally reached 10 cms and they told me to push. NO PROBLEM! Watch out because I'm blowing this child out!
I pushed for 45 minutes and it was the best feeling ever! Oh my god, what joy.
I saw the look as it was exchanged between the doctor and my nurse. Then the words came, "urgent C-section".
Eva wouldn't budge.
F my life...
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