I guess it kind of started Thursday night, Sept 12. Just before bed, I passed the "mucus plug". I wasn't 100% sure because I'd never done it before but it definitely seemed like it. I told Steve and we got a little excited but not too much. We knew that this was a good sign but didn't mean I'd be going into labor immediately. We talked about the possibility of having the baby soon and both hoped that he'd come the next day, Friday the 13th! I hadn't realized Friday was the 13th until I put it on my poll but once I did, I thought it would be super cool. Steve agreed.
We went to bed and Steve fell asleep as soon as we stopped talking. He's so lucky that way! Not me, to keep my mind from dwelling on possibilities, I read until 11pm when my eyes wouldn't stay open. I turned off my light and settled in for a good long sleep - at least 1 1/2 hours until I had to pee, that is. Instead, I woke up 20 minutes later having to go to the bathroom. The next two hours, I headed to the bathroom every 15 to 30 minutes. It was ridiculous! At 1am, I returned to bed after a bathroom visit and as I pulled the covers up around my shoulders, I felt a cramp in my stomach. I didn't think much of it at first - the last week or so, I'd get the occasional cramp that would last 30 minutes or so then go away. I figured this was just another cramp. Instead, it ended after less than a minute. Maybe, I thought, that was a contraction?? I turned on my lamp, grabbed my book, looked at the clock, and settled in to wait for a next one - if there was a next one. Twenty minutes later, the next contraction came. I tried not to get too excited and decided to let Steve keep sleeping until the contractions got more intense and at least 10 minutes a part. Until then, I'd continue to read. At 2am, I had a bowl of cereal because I was a little hungry and I knew that once I got to the hospital they wouldn't let me eat.
At 4am, I estimated that the contractions were about 8 minutes apart from start of one to the start of another. I wasn't using a stopwatch or anything, just looking at my alarm clock, so it really was a rough estimate. I gently shook Steve awake and let him know that I thought I was in labor. He perked up immediately. Since the contractions were still more than 4-5 minutes apart and since my water hadn't broken, we didn't feel a terrible rush to go to the hospital. That was one of the things I appreciated learning in the childbirth class - that I could stay at home until 1) my water broke, 2) the contractions were 4-5 minutes apart and more intense than I felt comfortable with, 3) I was bleeding, and a couple other things. Since none of those things applied, we slowly started to prepare to go to the hospital - no rush. Steve took a shower while I packed a couple last minute items into my suitcase. I hopped in the shower next and even shaved my legs. During my shower, my contractions became stronger and seemed to be more frequent (I wasn't looking at a clock any more, just guessing). Steve walked the dog, I got dressed, put my hair in a ponytail, and we got everything ready for us to leave. At this point, the contractions were definitely stronger and seemed pretty frequent, closer than 4-5 minutes, but we weren't timing them because we're silly like that. Instead, we decided to head to the hospital. It was about 5:30am.
On the way out to the car, I felt a little trickle of something. I knew it wasn't pee so I figured my water might be breaking. Nothing else happened and it really was just a trickle, so I didn't think more about it. On the way to the hospital, I started to worry that we were going there too early. After all, we hadn't even been timing the contractions for the last 1 1/2 hours! So, I timed them on the way to the hospital. Almost 10 minutes passed between contractions. What?! I knew they were coming sooner than that; however, it made me even more hesitant about going to the doctor. I asked Steve to drive around a little instead of going to the hospital so I could decide what I wanted to do. Eventually, Steve convinced me that the worst thing that could happen was for the hospital staff to tell us that I wasn't ready to be admitted yet. That's not such a horrible fate, although not one I hoped for, so we went to the hospital. Walking into the emergency room, I felt another trickle, then a slightly larger trickle, and then a gush. My water had officially broken. Woohoo! Now they would definitely admit us!
The ER nurse sat me in a wheelchair and took us off to Labor and Delivery. I felt a little weird being taken in a wheelchair since I felt totally capable of walking but figured it was hospital policy and that it wasn't killing me to be wheeled around although I preferred walking. When we got to L & D, the nurses had me change into a hospital gown. I went into a little bathroom to change out of my clothes and realized how noticeable it was that my water had broke - my shorts were soaked! I had to ask for help with my gown since the snaps weren't done up and I couldn't figure out how to put the darn thing on.
Steve and I were taken into a delivery room, where we would stay for the next few hours. We had two nurses attending us since one was in training. She'd been a nurse for awhile in Logan in the ER but had moved to Ogden and it was her third day working Labor and Delivery. Both were super nice and helpful. I liked that one nurse was instructing another because it meant I got to hear all the details of what they were doing etc. I'm sure they would have kept me in the loop any way, but I think I got more details than normal and I liked it.
My doctor came in at some point, I can't remember exactly when but I know it was fairly soon after we arrived. She was delivering another baby and stopped by to see how I was doing. I was dilated to a 5 when the nurses checked me shortly after putting me in the delivery room and I hadn't dilated any more when my doctor checked. For some reason, which I don't know or care about, she ordered that I be put on pitocin, which speeds up delivery. I wasn't sure what the rush was but didn't complain - I wasn't out to set any records for longest delivery. I asked when I could get an epidural and was told any time I wanted. The pain wasn't unmanageable at this point, so I held off. I'd had worse menstrual cramps than what I was experiencing, especially since cramps lasted for hours while my contractions only lasted a minute or so. I could definitely handle them for the time being.
About 8:30am, I started to think more about getting an epidural. I'd heard stories of women finally feeling enough pain to want one but then being told the doctor was in a c-section so it would take awhile. I figured I'd put in the order for the epidural when the pain wasn't too excruciating then if it took long to get it, I'd still be okay. A part of me felt like a wuss for ordering an epidural after being in the hospital for only 2 1/2 hours but then I remembered that I was dilated to at least a 5 and my doctor had told me a couple days earlier that a lot of women get an epidural when they're at a 4. I told the nurses I'd like the epidural. Two minutes later the doctor came in to give me the epidural. I felt a little sheepish and told Steve how I felt. He laughed at me a little because I worry about silly things like how long one should be in the hospital before "ordering" an epidural.
I wasn't worried about the epidural procedure at all, thanks to the childbirth class we took. The teacher showed us the needle and it wasn't nearly as big as I always thought it would be (based on what I'd heard). The needle used to adjust my lap band is about the same size (a little bigger actually) and it goes into my stomach where I can see it, so having a needle placed in my back was a piece of cake! I very quickly felt my toes start to tingle, so I knew it was taking effect. Happily, I noticed that both feet and legs were equally getting fuzzy. A woman in my class told me her epidural had been lopsided so she hadn't felt anything in one side and every painful contraction in the other. Yikes! Glad that didn't happen to me! However, it did take awhile to start affecting my contractions. In fact, it took long enough that they had the doctor return to give me a bonus dosage. The contractions had begun to really bite, jumping from a 4 or 5 on the pain scale to a 8 or 9 (at least, to me, a wuss). I told Steve I didn't think I could take many more of those contractions. Thankfully, after the doctor's second visit, the epidural started working and the contraction gradually became less painful until all I could feel was the pressure from them. I have to give natural birth women a hand, I only experienced those contractions for a few minutes; I can't imagine doing it for hours. Thank heavens for modern medicine that gives us a choice!
I loved having an epidural! It helped me enjoy the birthing experience a lot more than I would have otherwise. I was so much more relaxed and didn't yell at Steve once. *smile* I joked around with the nurses and traded stories about all sorts of things with them. I had worried about losing mobility once I had the epidural but because so much of the labor had already taken place before hand (a lot of it at home), I really didn't miss being able to walk around as much as I thought I might. I was actually quite comfortable. In fact, I didn't even mind not being able to eat, surprisingly enough. I was glad for water and ice chips, though.
I can't remember now how long I had the epidural before the nurses checked my progress and announced I was fully dilated but it wasn't longer than 2 or 3 hours. We were all pretty surprised I had progressed so quickly. The nurse said I could start pushing but the baby wasn't very low so I'd be pushing for a really long time. Alternatively, they could change my position in the bed to the "throne" position that would enlist gravity's help in getting the baby's head further in the pelvis. I opted for the latter and sat comfortably for a couple hours longer. Around 12:30 they told me I was ready to start pushing but they'd wait until 1pm...I don't remember if there was a reason for waiting.
Pushing was the part of labor that worried me the most. I didn't know if the epidural would be as effective during the pushing phase; i.e., would it hurt a lot? Also, I'd read that first time mom's tend to have to push longer than repeat moms, sometimes for multiple hours. My friend Sarah had only pushed 3 times, but I had a feeling I wouldn't be so lucky. As it got closer to 1pm, I asked Steve if he'd pray with me. I said a quick prayer that the pushing would go well and that the baby would be born healthy and everything would be okay. I felt a little better.
At 1pm, the nurses came in and instructed me on the pushing process. I'd never thought about how to push out a baby before so it was good to get some advice. As with the rest of the process to this point, I was surprised with how much better pushing was than I thought it would be. Steve held one leg and the new nurse held the other while I pushed. Since I couldn't feel the contractions, the other nurse would tell me when to start pushing. She had Steve count down, which I enjoyed because hearing his voice made me happy and more relaxed. Steve had been so helpful the whole experience. He reminded me to breath during contractions before the epidural, kept me hydrated with ice chips while I pushed, and constantly told me how well I was doing and how proud he was of me. He was the best coach I could have asked to have with me.
After about 30 minutes of pushing, the nurse said the baby was close enough that we needed to wait for my doctor. She went and called the doctor and I was able to rest until Dr. Julia came. At 2:07pm I felt the baby's head come out followed by his shoulder and then the rest of him. It was such a relief! As he came out, though, we discovered that the cord was wrapped twice around his neck and he wasn't breathing. He was placed on my stomach, Steve quickly cut the cord (he hadn't wanted to but they were in such a hurry to get working on his breathing that he didn't argue when they handed him the scissors), and they whisked him away to work on getting him breathing. I had torn a little so Dr. Julia sewed me up after "delivering" the placenta. Then she started pushing on my stomach a lot while mumbling something about needing my uterus to firm up. I asked about it and she said that the uterus usually firms up after birth which slows down the blood loss. Mine wasn't firming up and I was losing a lot of blood. Too much. Steve stood in between me and the baby watching as his little family was getting worked on. A nurse asked me if I needed something to drink. I asked for ice water. As I sipped from a cup, she marveled at how calm I was considering all that was happening. I replied that I knew they were trained professionals that knew what to do in these situations. It was for these types of situations that I came to a hospital. I knew everything would be okay and eventually they were. The baby started breathing and as soon as he let out his first cry, I loved him. I stopped bleeding as profusely and they brought him over to me to try to breastfeed.
We had two names that we were considering naming the kid and as soon as we saw him we decided on Matthew. It was the name Steve had preferred for awhile but I couldn't commit to a name without seeing the kid. Now, three weeks later, I'm really happy with the name still. The other name was Brian and it really wouldn't have fit him, despite being a really good name.
Another reason I'm glad we chose to go to a hospital was having people to clean up after us. Matthew had pooped and peed on the way out of me and it was all over the floor...or at least that's what I heard. I didn't have to see any of it. He also peed all over the people who were working on getting him breathing. Tee hee. He really is a good pee-er.
Breastfeeding didn't go great, but I had heard that it was natural to have it be challenging at first, so I wasn't too worried at that point. I was just relieved to be done with the birthing part. It was great when they took us out of the delivery room and put us in the room we'd be in the rest of our hospital stay.
We were in the hospital almost exactly 48 hours after Matthew was born; we left Sunday around 2:30pm. We had a really good experience there with lots of helpful, friendly staff members who made us feel comfortable and who really helped us celebrate the special occasion. Steve stayed with me the whole time...except to grab food once or twice from the cafeteria. It was a sweet way to start our little family. There were hiccups, naturally. The first night, Friday night, the kid wouldn't sleep and cried most of the night. We had continued breastfeeding problems that kind of discouraged me, but Steve kept supporting me and encouraging me. A couple times, we had the nursery come get Matthew for a few hours so I could get some sleep. Both times I felt a little guilty but the sleep was very helpful. Also, I was always so happy to see him again when they brought him back.
It was incredibly odd to leave the hospital with a baby. There are still times I look at him and can't believe that he's my baby. I never ever ever thought I'd have a kid so it's out of this world crazy that I now have one. Nine months wasn't long enough to prepare my brain for this reality. It's all good. The last three weeks have had some hard moments but I love the kid more and more every day. It's only been three weeks but it feels like he's been a part of our family for much longer. Steve is so awesome with him. Matthew is definitely a mama's boy (mostly because he spends practically all day and night with me) but I know that someday he'll want to be just like his dad. He's lucky to have such a good dad to look up to and want to emulate.
That's the birth story. Soon I'll write more about the last three weeks, especially about the fun breastfeeding has been.
Here's a couple pictures: