How LG came to be: A birth story!

Possibly starting the regret the decision to arrive early. Maybe the womb wasn’t such a bad place, huh?

I didn’t think I’d be one to document LG’s birth story here – not because I don’t enjoy reading other peoples’ birth stories…I DO – I just didn’t think there would be anything interesting to say about it. Labor, hospital, poof, I have a baby. And when you really break it down, it wasn’t necessarily much more exciting than that, but it was a cool experience and something I’d like to document for posterity’s sake. So, if you’re into birth stories, read on.

My water broke Sunday night around 9:30 PM, but since it was such a slow leak, I wasn’t really FOR SURE that my water had broken. So, I watched the Real Housewives of Orange County (god, Gretchen is just such a bitch this season, isn’t she?) and went to sleep. I tossed and turned all night, thinking What Ifs about going into labor. When I woke up Monday morning, I texted Chris, “So…I’m not sure, but I think maybe my water broke?” and upon his urging, placed a call to the hospital.

Unfortunately, the hospital labor and delivery people turned out to be completely unhelpful.

Me: So, I think my water broke, but I’m not sure.

Labor and Delivery Lady: Something something membranes something?

Me: I don’t know what that means.

L&DL: Did you have intercourse recently?

Me: NO.

(Because, OMG, that’s what got me into this mess; I think I’d know if THAT’S what I was experiencing.)

I decided to go into work and after assessing the situation the entire morning, finally placed a call to my regular doctor and was able to get an appointment for that afternoon with my favorite midwife/nurse practitioner. When I saw her, she barely took one look, determined my water HAD in fact broken, and ordered me to the hospital posthaste. Do not pass Go, do not stop home for anything, I’m calling the hospital to let them know you’re on your way.

I called Chris and we met at home (what? I needed my makeup!), threw a hospital bag together, and tossed the car seat from the hall closet into the backseat of my car. When we got to the hospital, they were at full capacity; in fact, there was woman in labor who was sitting in the waiting room. Turns out having broken water for almost 24 hours gets you to the front of the line, though, and we were able to snag the only available room, which had just been vacated by another patient.

The on-call doctor came in and he checked me for dilation…Which was a big fat ZERO. It was around 5:00 PM at this point and we decided to wait a couple hours and see if my body started to go into labor on its own. Meanwhile, I was put on a strict clear liquids only diet, which was as fabulous as it sounds. (Some advice: Eat a whole mess of food before you go to the hospital! Carrots at 2:00 PM are not enough to tide you over for what ended up being DAYS, in my case.)

The last time I looked cute! Must document!

Around midnight on Tuesday, the new on-call doctor checked me for dilation again…STILL a zero. Then she performed some stuff that made me scream, and for the rest of my hospital stay, I lived in terror of being checked for dilation.

Around 2:00 AM, we decided to start pitocin and I’ll skip right over the next 12 hours because NOTHING HAPPENED. No dilation, no solid foods, barely any sleep. The only nice thing was that my parents and Chris’s mom arrived Tuesday morning, so they were there to offer some entertainment.

On Tuesday afternoon, the doctor started me on some pill whose name I can’t remember, but it’s supposed to speed up labor. Two little pills, every four hours, check for dilation, and repeat. Finally after the second round of the pill whose name I can’t remember, I was checked and was three centimeters dilated! I have never been so excited to learn I was finally on my way to being in ACTUAL labor (and that I was that much closer to foooooood.)

I’d been having contractions all morning, but couldn’t feel them and didn’t even know they were occurring had I not been hooked up to the contraction-monitoring machine. However, semi-painful contractions started during the second round of the drug whose name I can’t remember and I took advantage of some narcotic they put into my IV. I don’t really know, but it made me feel nice and drunk, which was fabulous. The parents left around 9:00 PM that evening, right as I was taking my last round of the drug whose name I can’t remember and right before the contractions started getting out of hand.

The anesthesiologist was in working a c-section, so I had to wait about half an hour before she was able to come in and work her magic. Half an hour was PLENTY of time, let me tell you what. Contractions hurt like a mother fucker. Before the anesthesiologist came in, our nurse warned us she was a little…Brusque. Apparently, she’s great at her job (spoiler alert: she was!) but her bedside manner left something to be desired.

Case in point: She kicked Chris out of the room while she was working, as she prefers to work alone. She was good at her job, though, telling me what she was doing back there every step of the way. I was nervous to receive the epidural because I’d have to sit still and do so through contractions, the nervous shakes, and in a room that was around 55 degrees. All was well, though, and she was in and out in a couple minutes.

When she was finishing setting me up and showing me the button I could push for (“I got a fever and the only prescription is”) MORE EPIDURAL!, the nurse asked her if Chris could come back in, as he was worried.

Anesthesiologist: What’s he worried about?

Nurse: He just wants to be here and make sure everything is okay.

Anesthesiologist: What does he know about if it’s okay? He doesn’t know anything about sterilization!

(This has now become a “thing” in our house: “What do you know about sterilization?!”)

At this point, there was a nurse shift change and my favorite nurse (who’d been there both Monday and Tuesday nights) got off work, while my also favorite nurse (again, who I had already met Monday night) came on. I feel the need to mention here that I was the most desired patient. Apparently, all the nurses wanted to work with us, and they called dibs on who got to. I approved of this, as I enjoy being popular.

After the epidural kicked in, I went to sleep and was awoken at 3:00 AM by the nurse, who checked one more time for dilation…And wouldn’t you know! LG’s head was “right there” and it was time to start pushing. I pushed a couple times, but was having trouble feeling the appropriate amount of/properly located pressure, so the doctor came in and basically ordered me off my epidural. I responded exactly how you think I’d respond. All the lack of an epidural did, though, was make my contractions more painful. I still didn’t feel any pressure where I was supposed to be feeling pressure.

Another woman was giving birth down the hall (I COULD HEAR HER SCREAMING, OMG, THAT was unpleasant), so we just sort of hung out until the doctor could make her way to me. After awhile, my nurse made the executive decision that I was going to start pushing. So, I push, push, pushed for a bit (maybe 10 times? I do not know) and then the doctor came in and I push, push, pushed a little bit more and then all of a sudden there was a pop! (which literally made me jump, Chris said) as her head came out and then one more push and that was it!

Welcome to the world, lady!

Now where’s my champagne? Oh that’s right, WE FORGOT IT AT HOME.