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Labor Day – Part 2 (a.k.a. longest post ever)

Shocked isn’t even the best word to describe how Barry and I felt a we walked down the hall to our hospital room – the room that was meant for us to go through a life changing experience in, the room that was meant for us to greet our daughter, the room that we’d spend hours in awaiting the arrival of something that we made together.

Apparently we lucked out with the room because it was the corner suite that is typically used for twins to be born, staff members use it and people request it. It was huge and had a sweeping view of Lynnwood – lucky us! In the distance you could look and see the mountains if the cloud cover was just right.

Since my water had broken and we weren’t sure how long it had been the concern was that there was only a short amount of time to get Maggie out before the risk for infection became a concern. So, much to my chagrin, pitocin was started to get my body to start laboring again.

At this point we met our nurse, Teryl, as she came onto her shift. She was cheerful and made sure that we were comfortable. Phone calls had been made to our parents and siblings and people were on the way to the hospital. Brian, hearing that we’d been checked in, left work immediately and came to hang out with us. He came in and sat and talked with us as if it were normal for me to have contractions in between bits of nonsense conversation.

As I stood beside the bed and waited for each contraction to come Barry was next to me making me laugh and rubbing my back, feeding me ice chips to ensure that I’d get through each one. As the drugs kicked in the contractions did as well and boy, they hurt! I kept trying to describe to Barry what they felt like and each description seemed to contradict the previous one, so I stopped.

My body decided – or maybe it was the pitocin – that it didn’t want to give me a break in between contractions, which made for long contractions and short,short breaks. By this time my mom had arrived at the hospital and was in and out checking to see my progress and also going to HBHQ – where Barry’s parents were – to check in on The Syd.

After a couple hours of standing by the bed contracting, I transitioned into bed and proceeded to have the most awful contractions yet. Up until this point I’d been able to listen to Barry and focus, but suddenly the pain became unbearable and difficult to withstand. I was 5 cm dilated and the idea of breathing through the pain to get to 10 cm really didn’t sit well. Yelling, crying and trying to breathe did nothing to soothe the pain that embraced my body. Four contractions in five minutes….oh, the pain.

I decided to get an epidural.

Barry and I had talked at length about this choice over the last months and, although not ideal, after feeling a few hours of labor pains, it suddenly seemed like a fantastic option. While we waited for the anesthesiologist  the conversation was minimal, as Barry held onto my hand and coached me through the painful cramping.

The anesthesiologist  came to our room looking like he was fresh out of high school and remarked to us that we got the best room. By this time he arrived and set up shop I was more than ready to have some of the pain dissipate . I felt somewhat wimpy, but also knew that continuing on in the state that I was in wasn’t ideal for me.

Hunkering down with Barry holding my hands and the young doctor behind me – Nurse Teryl was busy re-doing my IV – I proceeded to be still long enough for the good doctor to poke a scary hole in my back. Of course the epidural didn’t kick in right away, so I continued to contract and Barry continued to feed ice chips into my mouth.

Eventually the epidural set in and I was, again, back to feeling like I was myself again, still feeling the contractions, but not in pain. Hallelujah! Around this time Barry’s parents made an appearance along with my mom, Flip was still at home mowing the lawn and would head down later in the evening. Alison Krauss and The Dixie Chicks played quietly in the background as we waited for things to speed up.

Speed up they did – Nurse Teryl had to leave and Trish became our new nurse. Trish is a large, blonde woman that is in the line of work that she is meant to be doing. She was AMAZING. All the nurses were amazing, but Trish basically delivered my baby and did a bazillion other things that I never imagined nurses would need to do.

The doctor  came and checked on me again and announced that I was 7 cm dilated, which meant that Baby Miller would soon be with us! Dr.Rogers looked at me and told me to rest up because I had a marathon coming up and she was going to go rest up and she’d see me soon.

Jump a few hours and a few more pop ins from the moms – and eventually Trish informed me that it was time to push. She also informed me that – TMI alert – having a baby is a lot like pooping a pumpkin. I have never pooped a pumpkin, so I really had no frame of reference, but in case you are wondering, I think this was a pretty good description and thought of it frequently during the next hours.

We turned up the music and started the rhythm and routine of pushing, relaxing, eating ice, pushing, relaxing, eating ice. During this time Barry was unbelievable – feeding me ice, letting me push against him in every way and encouraging me with sweet words and numbers. At one point we labored in a position that would mean that Maggie could torpedo out onto Barry’s body – after being in this position for  quite some time Barry quietly announced that his leg was falling asleep and needed to move. I wonder if his leg was really asleep or if he just didn’t feel like catching Maggie on her arrival.

Pushing, pushing, pushing for three hours and no Maggie. Ugh. Trish and Barry kept telling me that I was close – whatever that means…I just knew that I didn’t have a baby in my arms and I felt like I was pooping a pumpkin. (Sorry, but it’s true).

At one point Barry looks at me and says, “Uh, oh. Uh, oh! She’s got Flip’s bald spot!”

I was mid push and really wanted to laugh, but at the same time didn’t find it funny that my baby might have the same male pattern baldness that my father has been walking around with for decades.

With hours slipping by and we said goodbye to April 19th and hello to the dreaded 4/20, I was ready to be done pushing. My doctor arrived after Trish called her. Dr. Rogers informed us that Maggie needed to come out soon and that she might need to use extra help getting her out – and she wasn’t going to use a vacuum.

If necessary, she’d use forceps.

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Labor Day – Part 1

As my due date(s) approached I became increasingly uncomfortable being pregnant – feeling large, large, large. Although I’d stopped working the week before being at home felt nothing like a vacation. I spent my days slowly completing tasks around the house and watching my ankles swell.

Two significant things happened during that week: my doctor told me he thought I still had “a ways to go” because I still looked too comfortable. I also committed to buying an EXTRA LARGE bottle of Tums to fight off my heartburn. Up until that point I kept buying the tiny rolls thinking that my heartburn would disappear.  Hearing that my doctor seemed to think that I had time to spare made me both anxious and fairly upset – since I really wasn’t comfortable at all! I was in fact munching on Tums and trying to maintain a steady breath as I wobbled around my world.

My parents came down on Sunday, April 18th to celebrate my dad’s birthday by going to the Mariner’s game. We opted out of this experience simply because my body had started to tell me that labor was coming (TMI: loss of mucus plug) and the last two Mariner’s games we went to with Flip went into extra innings. So, I passed on sitting around Safeco waiting to see the M’s score.

Sunday night I woke to somewhat light contractions that were spaced out every twenty  minutes or so. By seven o’clock the next morning they had moved to being about 7 minutes apart. This was more of what I had imagined a typical labor experience might look like. Barry using his iPhone to track the contractions and me wandering around the house in his extra large robe breathing through them.

At one point I sent Barry to the store to pick up some pudding and cranberry juice since that was all my body wanted to eat. Thankfully, my brain has the memory of me trying to eat a pudding while a huge contraction came on and Barry ever so gently saying, “Here let me take the pudding from you.” While I was reluctant to let the pudding go I still had a perfect view of it untouched on the arm of our couch as Barry rubbed my back through the contraction.

With the end of each contraction I felt a bit of fluid leak out, but wasn’t concerned about it since I only assumed it was more of the mucus plug. We kept waiting for the contractions to get closer together or for me to be unable to breathe through them, but they did not. At about 10 o’clock I decided to call the doctor just to let them know what was going on and was immediately told to head to the Birth Center with my bags packed.

Ironically, as I hung up the phone the contractions all but stopped. Barry and I looked at each other dumbfounded and decided not to head to the hospital quite yet. After taking a nap and contemplating our decision I called the doctor’s office to let them know and they said that I needed to watch the fluid for an hour and if if didn’t ease up, head to the hospital.

So, we took the slowest walk in the entire world. We spent the walk laughing at my state because I was wearing yoga pants, a huge purple shirt, huge sunglasses and carrying my water bottle. I am sure that never had I taken so long to walk around our extended block. Looking back at that 30 minute cruise, I realize that I should have been at the hospital at this point.

Once we got back from our walk we looked at each other wondering if we should go to the hospital or not – since my contractions still were like a distant memory. We opted to grab our bags and head over to the 7th floor Birth Center. For some reason walking out of our house and leaving Sydney was really emotional and I stood there for a minute talking with our precious pup about the change that was coming. Even as I write this now, I feel a tidal wave of emotion.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” the nurse named Wendy told us as we walked through the doors of the Birth Center. She greeted us and took us to a small room to get my vitals and confirm what we thought we knew – that I had experience false labor. After strapping me into a few belts and taking some fluid sample she left us alone to wait for the results.

Barry and I stared  to each other and laughed at ourselves being typical first time parents showing up at the hospital for no reason. We made plans to go to Dairy Queen to get a blizzard and spend the rest of the afternoon hanging around HBHQ. We made plans to do anything that day other than have a baby!

After about an hour Wendy walked into our small room, smiled at us and said, “Plan on staying because your water broke!”