Intense. That is the best
way I can describe your birthday, Chaney Claire. It all started around 5:30
when I woke up for work. I was exactly 39 weeks pregnant. I was to work three 12-hour shifts in a row and was
slightly dreading it. I hadn’t worked 3 in a row in several weeks and certainly
not since my two weeks of bed rest. I wondered how in the world I was going to
avoid going into labor for three days based on how hard we work, how long we
are on our feet, how few breaks we get, etc. However, since bed rest, my
co-workers had been awesome in attempting to give me a lighter assignment. I
showered and lathered my cocoa butter on my belly thinking how little time we
had left together. I also remember looking in the mirror at a bunch of
different angles of my belly, shocked at how big it looked. I ate a quick breakfast of corn flakes and a banana and was
treated to Wade actually waking up to visit with me during breakfast. He
usually sleeps straight through me getting up and out the door. I left for work
around 6:20 and talked to Mom on the phone on the way. She inquired about my
contractions and I assured her that they were still coming but continued to not
be consistent. We hung up and I headed into work.
My patient assignment was quite busy and I was told that
one of my patient’s was headed to surgery by 1000 and the other was likely to
need surgery that day as well. Awesome. I sent my first patient off to surgery
and ran around trying to get caught up on the other one before she left for the
OR. Soon after I readmitted my first patient, around 1130 or so, I started
having pretty strong contractions while I was trying to chart. I would just
breathe through them but it seemed they were slightly more intense than the
ones I’d had in previous weeks. I was fine between them and they didn’t seem
consistent so I continued to work, give meds, assess my kiddos, chart, etc.
Every so often, I had to stop what I was doing to have a contraction. Soon, my
neighbor, Candise, who was helping me, took notice. “Are you having
contractions???” she asked during one rather painful one. “Yeah, but just let
me finish it. I’ll be fine,” I replied. She seemed a little skeptical. It was
decided around 1230 that maybe I should go sit down and eat lunch, take a
break, and just make sure this wasn’t real. At lunch, we laughed about how we’d
had two previous co-workers go into labor at work. I joked that I wanted to do
that because I didn’t want to waste one second more of maternity leave on the
couch. I wanted the max amount of time with my baby even if it meant working
until I pushed her out (be careful what you wish for!) I think I freaked out my
lunch buddies because I had a few pretty hard contractions during lunch that I
had to breath through. However, as soon as they were done, I was fine and back
to chitchatting. At some point, two of our docs came in and my co-workers jokingly
asked them if they remembered how to deliver babies. Both stated that they
probably remembered how but would prefer not to have to use those skills today.
Lindsay, who was (thank God) working that day, came in to check on me because
someone told her I was in labor. I laughed it off but was soon met with another
contraction. I had to stop eating my Fudge Round to breath through it. She
laughed at me because, as soon as the contraction was over, I finished that bad
boy up. At some point, someone asked me what Wade was doing. I remembered that I
hadn’t actually told him yet because, again, I didn’t think I was in “real
labor.” I didn’t want to be that girl that went to OB Receiving only for the
contractions to go away like they had been for the past few days. I decided to
go on and text Wade. Here was our convo:
June 24, 1247
Me: Having bad contractions.
Considering going downstairs soon. Maybe 5-10 minutes apart. Keep forgetting to
time them.
Him: Time them and let me
know. I’m sitting on pins and needles.
Me: Been 4 min since one
now.
Him: Let me know the next
one.
Me: Just had one. 5 min
apart for maybe thirty min.
1304:
Him: You hurting?
Me: Bad.
Him: You should go
downstairs.
I decided that maybe he was
right and went out to inform the charge nurse. I needed to finish up my 1200
assessment stuff and give a few meds before I left though. I considered staying
and trying to finish up the day anyway (after all, I was already halfway
finished with my day) but everytime I attempted to do something, I was quickly
stopped by another contraction. I couldn’t seem to get any work done anyway so
I decided I might as well go on and get checked out so that my mind would be at
ease. Worse case scenario, I would get down there, not be in labor, and head on
back to work. I went ahead and got charted up, made sure the kiddos were
getting their 1300 and 1400 meds (thanks, Candise!) and grabbed my bag. I,
then, remembered I hadn’t brushed my teeth after lunch and opted to go do that.
I don’t know why that felt important but I do remember that my teeth felt
nasty. By this point, I had quite a crowd around timing my contractions. I went
to let Lindsay know that I was, indeed, going downstairs. I clocked out at
1311.
My friend, Courtney, was assigned to walk me down
there and carry my bags. I made a little fuss and assured them that I was not
an invalid. I agreed to let her “walk me down” but I refused a wheelchair. We
got just outside the unit and I was hit with another contraction. I was in the
hall and right in front of my OB’s husband (a pediatric neurosurgeon.) He
looked a little freaked out and asked, “Is she okay?” Courtney grinned and
said, “She’s in labor!” I finished the contraction and walked a few more feet
before being met with one of my sweet patient’s moms. She was telling me the
updates on him and all I could think about was, “How can I nicely get away from
her?!” I think she sensed my urgency and, thankfully, stopped talking. We
headed down to OB receiving and signed in. The nurse took my vitals and we went
through some insurance questions between my contractions. I was still not sure
it was real and informed the nurse that I didn’t want any pitocin. I asked about what
the criteria would be for keeping me there if I wasn’t in active labor. She said, “Well, if you
are 4 cm or greater, that’s considered active labor and they will want to keep
you.” “Umm, I was 4 cm in clinic yesterday,” I told her. “Oh, well, they’ll
probably want to keep you.” By 1345, Wade had arrived and relieved Courtney. I was taken back to a
holding room to await a doctor’s check. We called Mom and informed her what was
going on. By happenstance, she was actually at UMC at a focus group, so she
finished that up and headed down. The doctor came in and asked about my being 4
cm in clinic yesterday. “Why weren’t you admitted then?” she asked. “Well,
because I don’t want to be induced, I’m 39 weeks, I needed to work today, and
my contractions weren’t consistent.” She also asked if I was interested in an
epidural and I told her that I was not interested in an epidural, Pitocin, her
breaking my water, or anything else. She nodded her head like I was crazy and
informed me that she was going to go ahead and check me to see if we’d made any
progress. She told us that I was now 6 cm, 80% effaced, and that my “bag of
fluid was bulging and would likely rupture soon.” I looked at Wade and Mom and
was shocked to finally realize that maybe we were having a baby today. I texted
Lindsay and a few co-workers to let them know that I would not be coming back
to work after all.
 |
| Still in my scrubs but I guess this is real! |
The doctors and nurses scurried around to try and get me
admitted to the labor and delivery floor. By about 2:15, I was allowed to
walk up to L & D, though an actual L & D delivery room wasn’t available
yet. I, again, refused a wheelchair because I didn’t want people gawking at me
(though I’m not sure how “normal” I looked in two hospital gowns and tennis
shoes, stopping every 4 minutes to have a contraction.) I joked with the nurse
that I was terrified that my water was going to break enroute. I asked her what
we would do if that happened, “I mean, what? Do you call the housekeeper and
say ‘Clean up Aisle 4’?” She laughed and said, “I’m sure they’ve had to do it
before.” We made it up to a regular room on the L & D floor and three
nurses came in to ask me questions, start my IV, and draw lab work. I
reiterated that I wasn’t much interested in an epidural, Pit, etc. and, as
another contraction came and they stood over me, I said, “I know, I’m crazy.”
She asked if I minded an IV. I told her that I definitely wanted an IV. I’ve
been in bad situations at work where we didn’t have an IV and it is not good.
She gave me the option of not having IV fluids and I did take her up on that. I
was having to stand up beside the bed or sit on the side of the bed, with Wade pushing on my back, to get
through the contractions so I thought the tubing would get tangled anyway.
 |
| I was about 8-9 cm here. Sweet hubs. |
I
started to feel like things were progressing quickly and panicked that my dad
hadn’t arrived with our camera. We snapped a few shots with our phones just in
case. After about 20 minutes, Dad arrived with our bags from home and settled
in the waiting room. I was contracting every 3-5 minutes consistently at this
point and really starting to hurt badly. I did not remember it hurting this
much with Ev so I guess you truly do forget. By about 3:30, they told me Dr.
Shiflett had just delivered one of her patients down the hall and would be in
my room soon. She came in and I asked her what the plan was. She stated that
she would check me, head back to finish up at clinic, then come straight back
to deliver me. I asked her when she planned on checking me and she said, “Right
now.” “Oh, hang on, I feel really nauseous.” I assumed it was because I had
just eaten lunch but in hindsight, I assume it was because I flew through
transition labor. They pushed some Zofran, waited for another contraction to
pass, and Dr. Shiflett began checking me.
Here’s what I remember from
our exchange:
She, quickly, looked up and
said, “You’re complete!”
“Complete what?” I asked nervously.
“You’re 10 cm. You’re having a baby soon.”
“I guess that means that, if
I changed my mind, it’s too late for an epidural?”
”Uh, yeah, Sara. You’re having a baby SOON.”
“How effaced am I?”
”Sara, there is NO cervix left. I’m about to break your water and we’re having
a baby.”
“Dr. Shiflett, we agreed you
wouldn’t break my water!”
”Sara, you. are. about. to. have. a. baby. In minutes. I’m breaking your
water.”
All the sudden, I flashed
back to Ev’s birth and pushing for 3 ½ hours. I totally freaked out.
“Dr. Shiflett, I can’t push.
I don’t want to push. I’m scared.”
“You’re doing fine. She’ll
be here before you know it.”
”I can’t push for 3 hours this time. I’m too tired and hurting too much. I
don’t think I could push for 3 minutes!”
“Sara, I don’t think you will push for 3 minutes if you try! Are you ready to push?”
I refused and said that I
wanted to labor down for a bit longer. She agreed and said she was going to
step out to give me some time until I was ready. She assured me she was right
outside the door and, if I felt the need to push, needed to tell someone. My
sister, Mom, and Wade were holding my hands and talking me through each
contraction. Lindsay was on my right and Mom and Wade on my left. I felt
another contraction coming and, while I did NOT want to push, all of the sudden
my body had other plans. I found myself pushing anyway. It was so bizarre. Mom
told Lindsay to go get Shiflett and I told her not to. Poor Lindsay was going
back and forth “Don’t go get her!” “Go get her!” “Don’t go get her!” “Go get
her!” I was scared she was going to make me push. Dr. Shiflett and the
nurses came in about that time and everyone was scurrying around. I looked
around and thought, “Where are they going to put the baby?” About then I heard
Dr. Shiflett asking what the status was on the real L & D room. I
remembered I was in (what I’m assuming) was a regular antepartum room. I was on
a regular hospital bed, no stirrups, no crib in the room, no overhead lights,
etc. They said it was being cleaned right then. Within a couple minutes of more
scurrying, it was about 1550, they said the room was ready. I was pushing
(against my will) at this point when I was run down the hall into a regular
delivery room. I was, then, told that I needed to scoot over to the labor bed. It
looked miles away. Between my contractions/pushing I scooted over, got set for
the next contraction and pushed about three
good times.
 |
| Almost there. |
The excitement was palpable. They told
me I was really pushing good. I felt so exhausted but, unlike with Everett’s
delivery, I did feel like I was accomplishing something when I was pushing. She, somehow, gave me one final kick to my
right rib, almost a farewell kick as that’s where she kicked me ever since I
could feel her moving. I told them, “I can’t push anymore. It hurts too bad.”
I, then, heard her heart rate monitor dropping and the nurses shared “that
glance.” Dr. Shiflett said, “Sara, look at me! We HAVE to have this baby NOW.
Next contraction, you’ve got it. We’re putting some oxygen on you.” “Oh God!” I
prayed I would have it in me. Within 10 more seconds, not long enough to even
get the oxygen and with one final big push, out she came at 1606. (Exactly two
hours and 55 minutes from when I clocked out at work.) She had a nuchal cord
times one, tightly around her neck, which was the reason for the decels. I
looked over at Lindsay, who was sobbing and said simply, “It’s over. I did it.”
 |
| Relief and pure joy. |
 |
| Cutting the cord. |
Wade was able to cut the cord and she screamed from delivery until about 20
minutes later. Her cheeks had a slightly blue tint from the cord (I would later
learn her Apgars were 9 at 1 min and 9 at 5 minutes, she lacked the one because
of her color.) She also had petechiae on her forehead from the brief lack of
oxygen. It was all a blur after that as I waited for Dr. Shiflett to finish up.
I watched, in amazement, as my sister, husband, and Mom crowded around our new
daughter and I. She was 7 lbs. 9 oz and 21 1/2 inches of pure perfection.
The only family that made it in time was Dad and my friend,
Mollie. So unlike the 15-20 people in the waiting room for Everett's ten hour labor! After
delivery, she nursed with ease (that always amazes me.) They took her to
transition to get the full assessment, shots, etc. while I greeted our arriving
family. By 1645, I got up out of bed, put my tennis shoes back on, and walked
up to the postpartum floor, again refusing the wheelchair. What a ho-hum
morning that turned into one of the most magical afternoons of my life.
Intense, I tell you, Baby Girl. I hope this isn’t a sign of things to come!
 |
| Our girl! |
We haven’t used it with C
yet. Anyway, the result of a sleep-deprived Momma, breastfeeding at 0300, with
a deathly fear of falling asleep with a baby beside me results in a crazy sleep
deprived, breastfeeding Momma. With both kiddos, I have routinely woken Hom up,
grabbing his arm, and panickingly asking, “Why is he/she in bed with us?!?!”
He, then, grabs his arm back and states, “Sara, that’s my arm not the baby.
He/she’s over in his/her pack-n-play.” At this point, I notice the little
snuggled up bundle safely beside me in his/her pack-n-play snoozing away. It’s
beyond frustrating for both of us. As if waking up throughout the night to feed
her isn’t enough, I also have to wake up to “save her.” Any other Mom’s out
there have any fun neuroses they’d like to divulge?
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