Eli's Journey Part II

Ok, let's see where was I? Oh that's right, we just arrived at the hospital! Gosh it feels like this story took place a year ago instead of 5 weeks ago.

We were admitted to the hospital around 6 am. I was told to fill out papers ahead of time so I wouldn't have to deal with that when I arrived in case I was in active labor. Well I was definitely in active labor and guess what? They didn't have any of my papers on file! WHAT! So there I stood at yet another counter swaying back and forth trying to answer questions and breathe. It seemed to have taken hours to complete this task. Finally we are admitted and taken back to triage. Now you need to know that when we were in birth class we were asked to share our fears about the birth. When it came time for Milan to talk he said his fear was getting a cranky nurse. The whole time we are walking down the long hallway all I could think was please god do not give us a cranky nurse. I was also thinking about all the things I hate about hospitals and started to get nervous and panicky. Luckily my doula Alicia had arrived and went into triage with me while Milan got the rest of our things from the car.
We go into this tiny little room called triage and in walks a nurse about my age. I think to myself oh good she will be nice. Wrong. She was the crankiest nurse possible. These were her words exactly "take off your clothes and put this gown on. I'll be back in a few minutes to check you to see how far along you are." Gee thanks, and good morning to you too! Little does Miss Cranky know I have no intentions on wearing that gown! So she comes back in the room and looks at me like I am crazy and says "you need to put on the gown." I had practiced my answer to this situation for months ahead of time knowing I was going to be in the position. So I politely say "I think I'd like to wear my own clothes for now but I'll take the gown with me." She gave me a dirty look and we continued on. As a side note, my goal was to stay at home as long as possible so I could be at least 6-7 centimeters when we arrived at the hospital. I just knew I was going to be when she checked. I anxiously await her response and she tells me I am only 5. In my head I am screaming 5! Only 5! All that work at home and I am only at 5! I decided it was her fault because she was such a crank and made me so nervous. They say woman can be moving along nicely in labor and suddenly stop because they are nervous. That's what happened I'm sure of it. My contractions went back to being 6-7 minutes apart.

A few minutes later we are moved to our room and suddenly a different nurse appears. Woo hoo! This woman was so nice and warm. Ya know, if you are a nurse you should be nice. It's that simple. It is my son's birthday so I think it should be a happy day and we should all be smiling. The time is now 6:50. Guess what happens at 7? Shift change. So a little after 7 another nurse appears. You've got to be kidding me! Her name was Erika and she is from Hungary. She is petite, quiet, warm, and has a nice accent. Interesting I think to myself and begin to wonder how else this day is going to go.

It is now time to get into relax mode. The key is to make the hospital as home like as possible. Hence the reason I stay in MY clothes and opt out of that stupid ugly huge cold gown. My doula came with a bag of tricks and the next thing I know the lights are dim there's music playing softly and the scent of peppermint oil fills the air. It was as if someone turned on the contraction switch and I was back into labor again. So from about 7:30 am until noon the morning went something like this. Alicia and I would walk the hospital. We'd go past the nursery and up and down the stairs. I'd be laughing and smiling one minute and leaning against the railing the next minute. Alicia would stand behind me and rub my back while I went through the pain and then we'd move on. People all over the hospital were giving me strange looks but I didn't care. Just for the record, I wasn't always breathing quietly so that may have been why I was getting looked at funny. :) After walking we'd check back in with the nurse so she could strap on the monitors and check on the baby. This was not in the least bit comfortable. Sitting in a chair for 15 minutes is sheer torture. To pass the time Milan would try making me laugh and Alicia would massage my hands. Eventually when I was in too much pain Erika would only monitor me for 10 minutes and sometimes she'd move around the room with me while holding the wires instead of making me sit. She turned out to be heaven sent as the day wore on. As noon approached I was getting more and more antsy and uncomfortable. I sat and bounced on the exercise ball, I leaned over the bed, I walked, I paced, I laughed and then complained. At one point I looked at Milan and Alicia during the peak of a contraction and started crying really hard. In the midst of the crying I asked Alicia if this was what it is like to be in transition. She laughed and said it could be so she called for the doctor. You'll notice at this point I haven't mentioned the doctor at all. That is because my birth plan stated I didn't want to see the doctor until I called for him. I didn't want to feel like I had someone watching the clock and checking my progression every hour.

Let's talk about the doctor. I went to three different doctor's offices until I found my doctor. I was 4 months pregnant before settling on this particular doctor. I wanted a midwife but couldn't find one I liked and was covered under our insurance. Most woman who deliver without meds use a midwife because they tend to be more supportive of it. I worked hard looking for someone who would be completely supportive of me and I found him. We talked a lot about my birth plan at each visit and I knew we were on the same page. He told me that he would deliver Eli even if he wasn't on call when I went into labor. How nice is that! So that morning when we went in he wasn't on call of course. The other doctor from the practice was there so I asked him to call my doctor. He politely did so and finally after what seemed like forever he came back and told me he spoke with my doctor and he couldn't be there because he was 2 hours away tending to his sick mother. I was so disappointed but what was I going to do? It's not like I had much choice. I had met the on call doctor one time during a prenatal visit. I liked him well enough but I wanted my doctor.

So at noon Alicia goes for the doctor. He comes in to check me and I thought I was going to die from the pain. My contractions were so close together he barely had time to check me before another one came. I seriously began to doubt whether I could handle what was yet to come. I knew for sure he was going to say that I was 8 or 9 centimeters. My water hadn't broke yet at this point but I was assured I could be fully dilated and still have my water in tact. He looks at me and quietly says, "You are at a 6." You can only imagine what I was thinking! A 6! After being here for 6 hours I am only at a 6! Just shoot me. He then says, "I know you don't want me to break your water but if I don't you could go on like this until tomorrow." That is all he had to say. I broke one of my rules and let him break my water. I really wanted it to break on it's own but I couldn't continue on with the pain knowing it could be another day before Eli came out. One thing they don't tell you in class is that once your water is broken for you you will continue to leak and leak and leak and leak and leak. Now how am I suppose to labor out of the bed while I am gushing water? I wasn't prepared for this but the nurse gave me a pad and we were off. I went into crazy survival mode. I was all over the room. As soon as my water broke my contractions were intense to say the least. All morning long Milan sort of sat back and let Alicia and I do our girl thing while he sent text messages and kept the mood light. Once this craziness kicked in Milan totally jumped in and started helping me out. I really needed both of them to help me. Up to this point I knew what time it was and could keep track of the day's progression. I now have no clue what time it is or how long I was in any one place. I'd like to be able continue giving details about what it was like but your mind has a funny way of blocking out memories of pain. Looking back now I describe this point in labor being like a night when you get really drunk and do stupid things. Then you wake up in the morning and your mind says I know I did crazy stuff last night but it's all such a blur!

I do remember that my doula had to talk me into getting into the jacuzzi tub. I felt frozen in pain and refused to move. Not moving wasn't helping me so she forced me into the tub since it is suppose to be really calming. Ha! Not for me. I get in the tub and the entire time I'm in there I'm screaming and banging on the side of the tub. I swear I could feel the baby moving down. I kept saying I need to push. I said that enough times that the nurse made me get out because she thought I was going to deliver right there in the tub. Now at this point I do remember that I was having piggy back contractions which means you get no break in between they just keep coming. I honestly thought I was going to die. So they get me in the bed and try to check me to see if I finally made it to 10. You would think I would be happy that the end was near but instead of that I was clenching me legs together saying NO you can't touch me! Milan refers to me at this point and until I deliver as the exorcist. My eyes were rolling around in my head and I was breathing like a maniac. Finally she checks me and guess what! I am at a...... 8! Yes 8. I wanted to just die. 2 more to go. You can't be serious. So now I am soaking wet from being in the tub and freezing to death. My hair is a mess and I am now wearing that stupid gown. Which I'll admit I didn't care about anymore. I gladly put it on seeing it was much less work than my own clothes. I am no longer mobile. I am glued to the bed even though Alicia kept encouraging me to get out and move around. Looking back I should have listened to her but I just couldn't move.

In birth class they taught us that it is more productive to use a Barry White voice instead of an opera voice. My brain kept telling me to scream deeply and all that would come out was high pitched little girl screams. It was comical and I do recall laughing at myself. There was a time when I was putting my face in Alicia chest and blowing raspberries. How embarrassing is that? :) Finally after god knows how long the doctor appears and I am at a 10! HOORAY! So they get me ready to push. I start pushing and after some time he says that I need to stop because part of my cervix isn't completely dilated and if I keep pushing it will swell and I'd need a c-section. Oh dear lord! He looks at me with sympathy and says I'll be back to check on you in a little while. WHAT? So there I was having to go back to working through the contractions. This was by far the worse part of the whole thing. Imagine me crawling out of my own skin. I was clinging to the bed rail and screaming. Milan was so sweet and suportive. I started asking no more like shouting for drugs. I kept saying give me Demoral pleeeeeeeeease. I don't even know what Demoral is but I just kept asking for them to take the edge off. Milan kept reminding me why I didn't want meds and that Eli would be born with it in his system. I yelled at him and said I don't care if he has it! Lots of babies are born with meds and they are just fine! Of course no meds were given and within minutes I was pushing again.

I have been told that pushing is a relief. I don't quite see it that way. It was the most bizzare and indescribable pain imaginable. I swear Eli felt like a bowling ball. I was terrible at pushing. I was so tired that by the time they'd get to counting up to 5 or so I'd blow the air out. In between pushes I'd sit back and rest and out of no where I'd sit up and yell "holy shit this hurts!". I remember feeling bad for swearing in front of the doctor so I'd apologize and he'd just smile at me. This went on for only 36 minutes. They asked me if I wanted a mirror to see Eli coming out and I just yelled at him and said just get him OUT! They laughed at that too. When he was coming down the doctor tried to get me to focus by telling me Eli had a ton of hair. In my mind I thought he was lying because I knew for sure Eli was going to be a bald baby. Everyone in the room was telling me to push. I can still hear each person's distinctive voice. Alicia quiet and calm, the doctor focused, the nurse and her accent, and most of all Milan. It was like Milan had a megaphone cheering me on. It was Milan who was the most encouraging to me. I just kept thinking I was doing this for him. I wanted so badly to give up and kept saying I couldn't do this anymore. Milan even made a football reference about the Steelers saying that I was at the goal line about to score a touchdown.

I pushed Eli out in 36 minutes. It felt more like 36 days but none the less he was out and I was exhausted. I was shaking from head to toe. I was covered in goose bumps and had no strength in my arms or legs. I couldn't even hold Eli when they brought him to me. Looking back I felt like I was going into shock. I remember everything happening around me but it was as if I wasn't present. I do remember yelling over to Milan by the baby table and asking him if Eli had all of his parts. I worried about that my entire pregnancy. Of course Eli has all of his parts and is absolutely wonderful! I really imagined myself crying my eyes out when he was born. But surprisingly I had no energy left for that. I just sat back and tried to catch my breath. I felt guilty at the time for not crying but I made up for that in days to come.

Well there you have it. Part 2 of Eli's journey. Stay tuned for Part 3. I promise it won't take as long for me to get around to writing it.