After all the speculation about Sylvia coming before her due date, I ended up being induced on the 19th - this after being scheduled for the 18th, but being turned away because the birth center was full. Big run on solstice babies!
Unlike going into spontaneous labor, I had not really prepared a vision in my mind of what an induction would be like. How long would it take? How much worse would it hurt? Would I be able to tell the difference?
Dan got me checked into the Birth Center at 7pm on Wednesday 12/19, and I was started on a course of Cytotec to ripen and dilate the cervix and hopefully start contractions. It comes in the form of a tiny pill, which is then cut into quarters; one quarter is inserted every four hours up to 24 hours. Not too bad, except the one time an exam was done by a med student (I equated her technique to fishing around in a disposal for a wayward fork), and followed by an insertion by an intern whose skills ranked minimally higher. At that point I started to bleed.
I had tested positive for group B Strep, so I received IV antibiotics every three hours until Sylvia was born. Plus my blood sugar was being tested frequently. And I had to wear an external fetal monitor the whole time, which ended up being the most annoying of the interventions.
Around 2 a.m. contractions began. Mild enough to withstand, and minutes apart.
After a full course of Cytotec we arrived at Thursday evening. I had only dilated to 2 centimeters in that whole time, but the cervix was less posterior and nicely softened. My water broke soon afterwards; it felt like two kernels of popping corn exploded inside my belly, hitting the inside of my abdomen, then a rush of fluid. A relief to see some progress.
I was terribly hungry, and had been restricted to clear fluids since being admitted. I will say that some almonds, cheese and crackers magically appeared in my room, and somehow made their way into my mouth. When I vomited later on it was obvious that rules had been broken, but my nurse turned a kind blind eye.
Contractions continued for several more hours, but I reached a plateau in the evening; the contractions were not lasting as long, and were spacing apart. Pitocin was administered by IV sometime after midnight. Within a couple of hours my contractions ramped up to more frequent, longer lasting and more intense. You should have heard the noises I made, all in the middle of the high-risk wing of the birth center where 90% of moms deliver quietly with an epidural!
After enduring my screams, moans, groans, pleas for help and occasional periods of peace, Dan decided to kick everyone out of the room. He said to me that nobody would think less of me if I chose to take pain medicine, and that I should consider an epidural because the pain was so intense and labor had been going on for nearly 24 hours. My midwife must have taken a cue from Dan, for she had a conversation with my doula and who knows who else out in the hall about the same option. I said I wanted an exam to see if any progress had been made. I was feeling a bit daunted at having not gone past 3 cm. in all that time.
My midwife took a look, and lo, I had dilated quickly to 8 cm with a 2 cm anterior lip - we were so close! She suggested I continue on, rage through more contractions, and really focus on getting that lip out of the way. Then I could push!
I had some very fiery contractions for the next hour and a half or so, accompanied by some banshee-like shrieking. I had to have somebody's hands on my lower back the whole time, and I'm thankful my strong doula was there. I also needed to hold hands with somebody, anybody, as things got intense each time.
The next exam revealed that I was completely dilated, and we shifted gears into pushing.
All that happened up to this point has now moved into a space in my mind reserved for things like movies, or stories about other people. I know I was there, I know I was doing all that, but looking back at it now it seems encapsulated and remote, like something I witnessed rather than experienced.
Not so for the pushing, which remains very clear and present to me.
I pushed for about one and a half hours, with a mirror set up so I could see my progress. It was amazing to see Sylvia's head emerge and retract over time. My lower back was extremely painful, and my doula worked overtime to try and support me. Dan did some work supporting my head from behind as I crouched forward in the bed. I couldn't tell you how long pushing took, and would have believed any figure thrown at me later. A nurse worked hard to hold the fetal monitor in a position to get Sylvia's heart tones, which was not easy. My blood sugar spiked to over 220 (hmm, perhaps the stress of childbirth??) and insulin was administered. It became harder to hear Sylvia's heart tones, so I was encouraged to go on and push really hard! In any other circumstance an internal fetal monitor would have been screwed into Sylvia's scalp, but my midwife has a lot of pull and saved us from that.
When Sylvia finally came she presented with a compound arm - her left arm was crossed over her chest and her hand was up by her right cheek. Which explains why I did not feel the expected head - shoulders - sloosh sensations during her delivery. What I did feel was a tremendous amount of pressure as my midwife used her hands to try and make an easier entry for Sylvia. And some burning, which wasn't as bad as I expected it to be.
Out she came, and Sylvia commenced to crying immediately. She was placed on my belly, and though she was covered in goo I could see that she was lovely. She eventually made her way up to my breast and latched on. We rested there for a while, again I couldn't say how long. A peace washed over me, and all the efforts of the previous day and a half seemed to leave not a trace. Dan cut her umbilical cord, apparently having gotten over his previous nervousness about that.
All four grandparents came in from the waiting room; there was much oohing and aahing. I became ravenous after not really eating for quite a while; the styrofoam turkey sandwich I was brought tasted great, but I skipped the Jello.
After a few hours we were moved into a room in the women's and children's hospital, where we stayed until 36 hours had passed from the time of Sylvia's birth - standard procedure for high-risk moms like me. Boy, were we glad to get home Saturday night!
Every birth is unique, and I'm glad this one went as well as it did. I can't imagine it having gone so well without the support of my awesome husband, doula and midwife - the Dream Team! There aren't enough thank-yous in the world for these people.
