As I was still looking out the window at 5:30am, my nurse came in to wake me up and give me time to take a shower. I asked her to wake me up the night before because I was sure that the Ambien would knock me out and I would sleep until it was time for them to start inducing. Wrong-O Angi! She helped me get up and get all of my cords off. I got in the shower but I have a severe shower problem. I was born as, what some might say, an incompetent showerer. I have the inability to shower without getting the floor and sometimes the walls outside of the shower completely flooded. I don’t know where I am going wrong and have exhausted the list of possible causes. If anyone is able to give me a lesson on the correct showering procedure, I would be a willing student. My husband is astounded by my ineptness and as so often asks me, “What is your problem?” , to which there is an infinite list of possible answers. I then woke him up to get in the shower because I was sure that if I had not, some point in the day he would have scolded me for not telling him that his hair looked ridiculous. Plus, I know he feels as crappy as I do when he doesn’t get to take a shower in the morning. He eventually got up to shower and before the door even closed I could tell that he was curious as to why I had attempted to take a bath outside of the shower rather than inside the normal confines of the shower walls.
My next two nurses came in, with whom I was absolutely delighted. Anna and Jamie were kinda of like Tweedledee and Tweedledum in the cute little way that they bee bopped around but they were not dumb at all. I actually felt very comfortable for the first time while they were my nurses. Becky came in very early to see me before work. It felt rather early but who could really tell at that point. After Anna and Jamie introduced themselves to me they started explaining what would be happening that day as far as the induction. They checked me and to my surprise there was no change. But that was OK because we hadn’t technically started the induction yet. They started the Pitocin in my IV. Now, not only did the contractions start and begin to get pretty intense, but every time I had to pee (every 30-45minutes) I had to get a nurse to help me manage my IV pole and all of the cords. My mom came in at about 9am. She brought with her some socks because although I had packed plenty, I had already gone through them because every time I went in the bathroom I was left with sopping wet socks from the still residing water from my earlier apparent water games.
The nurses continued to check my progress throughout the morning but not only did I become more disappointed that although I was having contractions and nothing was changing, I also had to endure going through two rounds of “checking” every time they did so because there were two nurses and they both insisted on examining the “situation”. Now Ladies and Gentlemen, these examinations are not pleasant by any means. First, you have your junk all out where everyone in the world can see. Second, it kind of feels like someone is trying to drive a tree stump up where only a bamboo shoot could and should fit. So I endure this pain each time hoping they will have good news, but no. I am basically told that I am failing miserably.
The contractions really started to hurt and for some reason I had not asked for any pain medication yet. (Silly mommy!) My mind went back to earlier that morning. Becky was sitting there and as Anna started talking about the pain medicine she could give me which would basically be a cocktail of several different pain meds, we gave each other a look, much like we had many times before,but not anytime recently of course, that meant this is going to be some fancy stuff. But as you might guess, by the time that I needed to ask for the highfalutin medicine, my preggo brain could not remember what it was called. But I remembered that it had something to do with alcohol(She called it a cocktail) and so I asked my sweet little nurse for a margarita STAT. She began to laugh because she thought that I was joking and I began to worry because for one, I thought that what I was saying was the correct terminology, and for two my mom and my nurse were laughing at me. I just want to give you all a piece of advice. Don’t ever laugh at a pregnant woman when she is confused. And absolutely don’t ever laugh at a pregnant woman when she is confused, in labor, in pain, and has access to plenty of needles and dum dum suckers. Something terrible might happen, just use your imagination. I’m not going to say what it is, but it might also include a throat punch. I’m just saying…
Finally, my doctor came in to talk to me and check me herself . She told me that they had the Pitocin up as high as they could go and there was still no progress. It was now about noon and something should have happened by then. We talked about the different options and the details of a C Section since in my mind, it had never been a reality,but now I had tons of questions. I consider myself fairly intelligent but extremely stubborn. So my doctor said we could do another round of the cervidil for twelve hours and then induce again. I decided to give it one more try before giving up. But before she would agree to it, she wanted me to have a break from all of the medicine and also give me a chance to really eat for the first time in twenty-four hours and relax for a couple of hours. At two o’clock they would give me some more cervidil.
Jimmy and I were both exhausted and knew that we weren’t even nearly out of the woods yet. My mother-in-law had just came up, so after they started the cervidil again, we decided that she would stay with me until the evening time. Meanwhile Jimmy would go get the dog and go home to rest and my mom would go home as well and come back later with my dad. I turned my I POD on low and tried to nap as much as I could. I think my mother-in-law just sat there and read a book while I slept. It was actually quite peaceful for awhile. My contractions started to get more and more painful even though I was no longer on the pitocin which I thought was a good sign. I started getting extremely uncomfortable not only from the contractions but from the terrible labor and delivery bed. Trust me they may look soft and cushy but I imagine it is much like laying on a row of steel pipes covered by a bed sheet. As I was waking up, my parents came back and soon after that Jim came up to see me as well. By that time, I could not function while having a contraction but everyone was having lots of fun watching the monitors as the mountains of red marks made their way across the monitor screen. It was the same kind of sounds that they made when they realized that I had a whole box of dum dum suckers in my room. “oh wow, look at that one! That is so cool, it was a lot bigger this time.” Folks, those kind of remarks are not helpful. Focus people, focus! There is a big old baby trying to make its way out of here and you all are acting like you are on a roller coaster ride with all of those oohs and ahhs. I ordered more food but was unable to eat anything because of the pain.
The snow had already begun to fall. They had predicted snow accumulation on the news but come on Hoosiers, how many times have they said that in the past two years and how many times has it actually happened? My mom started to think about how she would get back to the hospital when things started to happen early the next morning(Wishful thinking) She ended up getting the last room in the hotel rooms on top of the hospital. I was soo releaved that she was going to be close by. For one, she is a nurse, for two, she is a postpartum nurse, for three, she is my mommy. Because of the snow, Jason was not going to be able to come down and dog sit for us that night(nice Jason, real nice) so Jimmy brought Jenkins up to the hospital at about nine and my dad took him home so that Kevin(and the rest of the fam) could watch him.
I asked the nurse if I could sit in the chair by the monitors because the pain from laying in the death trap of a bed was more than the pain from my contractions and she agreed. Why I had not asked her before this is still a mystery. My mom hung out with us for a little while before she went up to her room but before we knew it, is was 10:30pm and they were supposed to start the pitocin again at 2am. We needed to try and get some sleep.
Of course, neither of us could really sleep. I couldn’t believe how much pain I was in. I was to the point where I could not talk during my contractions. If you haven’t been through this, they measure your contractions and give you milestones according to the activity you can do during them. Up until then the milestones were helpful because you knew what sort of level of intensity to expect next. If only they had truthfully told me about the next level. I guess the only way that they could have described it would be to say,”You will begin to ask your labor coach to knock you the **** out, then you will say, seriously pick up that chair and break it over my head. I don’t care if you permanently paralyze me, I do not want to be conscious anymore. The level after that will begin with a dragon of the fiery nose type sitting atop your body and stealing the very life breath from your soul. You will no longer be able to breathe. You will begin to be cross eyed with blurry vision and then you will be blind… maybe forever.
* I have heard my friends’ story where at this point in her labor, one of the only anesthesiologists in the hospital, accidentally squirted medical soap into her own eyes and had to be rushed out for emergency care. Thus leaving my friend in this state for a very long time and just because this anesthesiologist may or may not have worked there for a long time, and everyone was friends with her, and everyone just happened to be caring people that cared about their friend who was probably going to be blind for the rest of her life my pregnant friend was not getting the attention that she so rightly deserved. Even her husband turned on her and began to care more about the obviously incompetent doctor than his own wife. She may or may not have been exaggerating. But there are very few sane and lucid thoughts during this stage. I’m just saying… *
We went to sleep or rather tossed and turned for three hours and thus concludes Day Two. Stay tuned for the next installment which I will refer to as “My Story- The worst three hours of my life”
Filed under: I'm growing an alien, Mr. Baby Man, Uncategorized on April 21st, 2009 | 1 Comment »