Ok, I thought, I should probably wake James. I felt bad for waking him at what was then 12:45 in the morning, but I was pretty convinced that this wasn't "false labor" and even if it was, I needed some moral support, here.
I managed to gather our stuff between contractions while James took a quick shower, and then we were off to the hospital. I called on the way there to let them know we were coming, and had three more contractions between the house and the door to the ED. James dropped me off there and went to park the car, joining me right as the L&D nurse came to take me upstairs.
After a few questions about frequency and duration of contractions, they decided to admit me (thank you!) and we were soon settled in room 12C-26. They checked me out and determined I was now 4 cm dilated. I'll admit, after all those contractions, I was hoping for something more dramatic, but since they said they'd keep me, I wasn't about to complain.
At about 2:30, we called Mom. To her everlasting credit, she said she'd come right away. By the time she arrived, I was in a state. The contractions were frequent and severe. I hobbled to the bathroom two or three times, and remember trying to use the toilet when a contraction would hit, and all I could do was say "Owie, owie, owie!" while clinging to whatever loved one was closest at hand (James or Mom).
The night doctor told me that I needed to progress a bit more before I could get an epidural (try walking around, like across the VA skybridge - yeah right!), and the night nurse, Lisa, further informed me that I needed more hydration, so they'd start an IV after I'd had some time to walk around. Well, I just curled up into a fetal position and cried, so they started an IV and a liter of LR. Then they gave me 100 mcg of fentanyl and the world was a better place for about 45 minutes. I managed to get a nap in, and the fluids dripped into my underhydrated veins. I could only have the fentanyl every hour, so the last 15 minutes were rather uncomfortable, but I made it, and they gave me another dose, and started another liter of fluids. By the time I was ready for Round Three (about 4:30 am), the anesthesiologist resident was there and I got my epidural, which started to kick in a few minutes later.
Ahhhhhh!
I could still feel when I contracted, but they felt more like Braxton Hicks contractions, so I was able to get some sleep, James took a little nap, too, and Mom went down to the cafeteria for something to eat. After the epidural, time became rather relative. I no longer watched the clock (positioned inconveniently over my right shoulder) for my next dose of fentanyl or braced myself for the next contraction (everyone kept telling me to just relax and it wouldn't hurt as much - much easier said than done). The next thing I remember is my clear liquid breakfast (juice, chicken broth, and jello - yum!) while James feasted on Fruity Pebbles or some other sugar bomb cereal Mom got him from the cafeteria (at which point the lady at the cash register asked her if she qualified for a Senior Citizen discount - she didn't look THAT bad for having woken up at 2:30 in the morning!).
By mid-morning, the contractions were starting to get stronger again. Since my epidural was on a PCA button, I started pushing the button with each contraction. When I told the day nurse, Lorie, she called anesthesiology and they came to bump up my rate and give me a bolus of whatever wonder drug they were pumping into my epidural space. I had a "walking epidural," which was somewhat misleading because my one attempt to walk to the bathroom didn't even make it to the dangle position. So I had to get a foley catheter, which I couldn't feel, so it was ok.
Another good thing about the morning arriving was Dr. Sarah Present came! Accompanied by Dr. Lochner, the attending in the hospital for L&D that day in Family Practice, it was such a relief to have MY doctor on the floor, lookin' out for our interests. Since she'd been out of town all the week before, I must admit that I'm glad Gwen decided to wait until the next week to make her appearance.
So Sarah checked me and I was hovering around 9 cm, fully effaced, etc. There was some concern about the baby's heart rate dropping dramatically with each contraction, so they had me position myself such to keep the heart rate up - first on the left side, then on the right, then on one side with my legs and knees heldjust so so that the baby's heart rate stayed in the safe range during contractions. I started to feel like I was looking for cell phone coverage. They put an oxygen mask on me to provide more O2 for the baby.
My water had not yet broken at this point, and since I was almost fully dilated, we opted to have Sarah break my water to progress labor. She pulled out the crochet-hook-looking AROM device and next I knew, they were telling me that there was some meconium and they were going to call the pediatric team in case she came out with meconium inhalation problems. Then they told me to just let labor progress and to call when I started feeling the urge to push.
Some time before 11, I started feeling some pressure and let the docs know we were getting to that urge point, so everyone gowned up. Someone gave James a gown and instructed him on putting on sterile gloves. The sun was shining in the window, bathing the room in light and heat. I didn't notice the heat as much as the gowned members of the team, as I was wearing a light hospital gown and little else, but I was working the hardest! Every time I felt a contraction, I would push, push, push, encouraged by the team, James and my mom. I remember glancing at the clock at about 11:30 and wondering if this would be an am or a pm baby. I was getting pretty tired, especially my abdominal muscles. I remember feeling a contraction and just not having it in me to push, opting for a break, then Dr. Lochner suggested that they may have to use the vacuum extraction device if labor continued as it was going and her heart rate continued to drop. It didn't come to that, though. At 11:49 am, with a big push, there was a sudden shift and her head came out. Then came her shoulders and next thing I knew, I was holding a squirmy, wet little creature, her deafening wail broadcasting to the pediatric team that their services would not be needed - her lungs were just fine.
Then she pooped all over her mother, but I didn't mind.
