"just got the word - induction is today! Now that I know, I've got my game face on and ready to get this show on the road!"
"Magnesium started, pitocin started, now c'mon baby! Bring it! P.S. First time I've had mag, this is some wacky stuff."
"Hanging strong on pit & mag, ctx 2-3 min apart, just broke my water. Ahhhh, nothing like a bed full of amniotic fluid to give you that warm & fuzzy feeling."
"He's here and beautiful! 6 pounds 1 ounce, delivered at 11:24pm after 10 hours of pitocin/magnesium, but only 10 minutes of pushing and no epidural needed. Still working on his name though!"
And it occurred to me that I don't have Finn's birth story on this blog. I'm super sentimental and love to go back and read stuff like this, so here it is copied from my old blog:
After a sequence of events that snowballed into an early induction, we welcomed our son Finn Martin Lau into the world 4 weeks early on Saturday night, August 29th at 11:24pm. He was 6 pounds 1 ounce, 18 1/2 inches long, and perfect!
Following is Finn's birth story. It's long. And contains medical talk, bodily fluids, and the process of labor. Mostly I'm documenting it for my own personal record, in order to have something to go back to so that I remember the events of the day. If that's not your cup of tea, you should stop at the cute picture of Finn above and say "Yay, Finn is here. The end". Otherwise, enjoy the tale.
I still think the induction was rushed and initiated sooner than it needed to be, I have no doubt if I had been in Dr. Lane's hands (my OB in Raleigh who delivered Zoey) or even the OB at HMC who knew me and my situation well, I would have been allowed to go home on bedrest for awhile longer and let little Finn develop more. But that wasn't the case and instead doctors who knew nothing about me, my situation, or how my pregnancy had been managed so far were calling the shots. Either way, it's done and there's really no point in rehashing my hospital captivity. We have a healthy baby boy and that's all that matters!
So I'll start the story from when I found out that I would be induced. Unfortunately I got the news from the one OB resident who I would NOT want anything to do with my childbirth. I've seen her in the ER before, she's horrible. Luckily I have no qualms about speaking up and I got her booted from my case immediately. It was funny because even the attending MD didn't blame me for doing so, this resident was that bad. So I was taken over to L&D at about 10am on Saturday morning, they tried to make me go over in a wheelchair but I knew it was my last time to be out of bed so I convinced them to let me walk. Well, skip is more like it, I skipped and danced the whole way down the hall and into my bed/prison. That's probably about the time that the L&D staff first started to suspect I was cuckoo.
Anyway, they started the induction with pitocin and a drip of IV magnesium. Let me just say that I already knew pitocin was the devil because it brings on wicked strong contractions, but holy crap mag is 100 times worse. I had to be on mag as a precaution, it relaxes the muscles and prevents seizures, which are a side effect of worsening pre-eclampsia. And I thought delivering a baby with no epidural on pitocin was hard, that was nothing compared to a pitocin/mag cocktail. Once you're on mag, you're essentially chained to the bed and can't get out of it throughout your labor and for 24 hours afterwards. The way I manage labor with no epidural is to move around and find positions that are comfortable and conducive. Well that ability is totally taken away when you're on magnesium. Instead you have to just lay in the bed and take the pain, feeling it in all of it's intensity, but unable to manipulate yourself to do anything about it. It also essentially makes you feel like you have the flu. You feel flushed, lightheaded, and totally sapped of energy. It's the devil. Talking to the nurses I knew this was coming, so I basically mentally prepared myself to muster up all of determination I could find because I wanted to make it through this without an epidural again. Some people said I'm crazy for wanting to deal with the pain, but an epidural is just not for me. I just didn't want a needle in my back, didn't want potentially numb and useless legs, didn't want to risk my pushing effectiveness, and basically didn't want to have yet another intervention that takes laboring out of my control. And that's probably what it comes down to right there. I'm a control freak and can't stand the thought of my actions not being in my own hands. Plus there's some quasi-sadistic part of me that WANTS to know exactly what my body is feeling throughout the process. And I just think our bodies were made to do this, feeling the pain and embracing it is part of the process. The pain is functional, it's a sign our body is doing what it should, and it helps guide us through the whole experience. Anyway, determination is something I'm good at, when I put my mind to something I'm stubborn enough to make it happen. I didn't put myself through full-time nursing school while working full time as well and driving 3 hours round-trip EACH DAY and on only 4 hours of sleep a night for years without determination. Apparently it worked because every single doctor and nurse who came in my room throughout my labor said there's no way I looked like someone on magnesium.
This is me saying "Bring it on! I'm ready!":
The other deal with magnesium is that it causes you to retain urine, which means they shove a catheter in you. I didn't want to be stuck with that obstacle as well, so I asked the nurses the bare minimum output they would need to let me avoid it (30ml/hr) and convinced them to make a deal with me and hold off just as long as I could sit on a bedpan every hour and pee at least that much. Like laboring in a bed isn't hard enough, who wants a tube shoved in their pee-hole?!? I had enough tubes in me already with all my IV lines. They agreed to the deal but I think just to humor me, they said they couldn't remember the last time someone on mag and pit delivered without a catheter.
So from 10am to 6pm, things were fairly uneventful. The pitocin slowly was increased, the contractions ramped up, and every hour I had the joyous and glamorous privilege of peeing in a bedpan. I did have my hourly secret pretzels to look forward to, so that was something. I forgot to mention, one of the other things about the way HMC handles laboring on mag is that they don't let you eat anything as long as you're on it. However I thought that was pretty ridiculous in my situation, so I made Marty sneak me food. I also had my vital signs taken every hour, labwork frequently drawn throughout the day to recheck my platelet levels, and doctor assessment every 2 hours. Every time the doctor came in I tried to think of a new way to bribe them to disconnect the mag. But apparently OB doctors need more bribery than Twix candy bars and change from my purse, no one caved. Eventually when a new one came in (fresh meat! I figured they would be easiest to sway) they just started off saying "We've already heard about you and you can't bribe us, you have to stay on the mag!". Apparently news travels fast.
At about 6pm what I was dreading most happened: the brutal back labor hit. I had back labor with Zoey since she ended up being in a posterior position and I was praying this delivery wouldn't be a repeat, but no such luck. The contractions were 2 minutes apart and each one felt like it was absolutely crushing and pulverizing my lower spine. Marty would dig his fists into my back to give counter pressure during each contraction and he said every time it felt like my entire lower back was in spasms and that it felt like the baby was trying to kick his way out through my back. Between contractions I was fine, but otherwise it was just brutal. Especially because I couldn't move around or get in a more comfortable position. When you have back labor, the LEAST comfortable position to be in is in the bed on your back, it just increases all the pain and pressure on your spine. The best thing you can do is stand up, move around, or lean over something, anything to help relieve the weight and pressure of the baby. But I was totally restless being confined to the bed, and I had to just keep telling myself "You can't physically manipulate yourself in a way to alleviate the pain, you just have to lay there and take it, so suck it up and ride out each contraction one at a time". This went on for four hours with zero progress towards being ready to deliver this baby. At 6pm I was 3cm, 75% effaced, and -1 station (medical talk for not ready to have the baby yet), and at 10pm I was the exact same. Totally frustrating after four hours of feeling like someone was breaking my spine in half for 90 seconds every 2 minutes. Not to mention my urine output was decreasing every hour and at 10pm it was only 50ml/hr, the nurse gave me the ultimatum that the foley catheter would be coming next hour if it decreased anymore.
I knew I had to make major progress in the next hour, my body was getting totally fatigued and I'm telling you I did NOT want that damn catheter in my way! Plus the mag was starting to catch up with me and really tick me off, I knew the level of exhaustion I was fighting was in no way sustainable for another 4 hours if I couldn't progress. I remembered from Zoey's labor that a dose of Stadol gave me a short break and let my body relax just enough to make the changes that it had to. I had been spending every ounce of my physical energy fighting and resisting the contractions, my body was so incredibly tense - no wonder it couldn't progress. So I had the nurse give me the Stadol shortly after 10pm. It makes me a little sleepy, but only lasts about 45 minutes so I wasn't worried about being too out of it. I don't know if it was the Stadol or sheer willpower or a combination of both, but at the end of that 45 minutes I was 6cm, 100%, and +1. Of course the contractions were back in full force, which again took up all of my energy so I got one more dose of Stadol to hold me over. 10 minutes later I knew it was time to push.
The nurse walked in slowly and I don't think took me seriously when I told her it was time, she said "you look way too calm and in control to be in transition to pushing". But here's the thing, that's exactly what happens to me. It's one of the most amazing complete changes that I've ever felt, and it was the same with Zoey. For the hours leading up to that moment I feel like I'm spiraling out of control during the contractions, eyes tightly shut, fighting tooth and nail to stay in control of the pain and being totally internally focused to allow my body to embrace it, but the pain is really just running me over and there's nothing I can do about it. And then all of a sudden I have that moment of clarity that it's time, it's time for ME to run the show. Everything is brought sharply into focus, my eyes are wide open and clear, and simultaneously this wave of total calm control takes me over. There's also a feeling of total euphoria as I get to actually channel all of that pain into a physical action and push back against it. I feel in charge, no longer like a victim. My body feels so in tune with knowing exactly what to do and when to do it, it's like I just want to say to the doctors and nurses "listen guys, I got this, just step back and let me fly". I remember even saying out loud "I love this part!!!" and the attending MD laughed and said that was the first time she'd heard that. But it's seriously one of the most spectacular things I've ever felt. And that's another primary reason I didn't want an epidural, I didn't want to risk missing even one tiny bit of this part, I wanted to experience it fully. The doctors and nurses were amazing with letting me be in charge of when, how, and for how long to push. I think that was one of the reasons I only had to push for a total of 9 minutes before Finn was out, I could do it exactly the way my body wanted to. And without an annoying catheter in my way, mind you!
Finn cried as soon as he arrived in the world, which was music to my ears. Prior to delivery I had been worried about how well he would breathe since he was 4 weeks early, but he did really well. He had an occasional grunting respiration, but on the whole he came out breathing great. I do vaguely remember in that first moment I saw him, that I called him "my perfect little smurf baby" because he was a little blue for the first minute or two. But he pinked up right away. Here are some pictures that were taken in his first moments of life:
We held him for awhile, but then the L&D staff still wanted to take him to the "transition nursery" because of those initial sporadic grunting respirations. The nurse said they usually keep babies there for 4 hours, but they brought Finn back in less than an hour since he was doing so well. I wish I could have jumped out of bed, taken a shower, and scarfed down a meal like I did after delivering Zoey but unfortunately I was bed-bound for the next 24 hours due to that freaking magnesium (which I was on for 36 hours all together). Did I mention that I HATE HATE HATE that stuff? The entire next day I was confined to the bed, had to succumb to the foley catheter, didn't get to eat (well officially anyway, I still made Marty sneak me pretzels every hour or so), was so hot and flushed I felt like I was on fire, and really needed a shower. Plus my head felt all spacey and made holding conversations difficult. Mostly I just stared at Finn all day, trying to take everything in. But I felt like a kid on a long car trip, asking "are we there yet? are we there yet? are we there yet?" in reference to when the mag could be stopped. Again I tried to bribe all the residents to stop it early for me, but again without any luck. I should have asked for residents with less scruples.
But let me tell you, I was prepared for when 11:24pm came the next day. I sent Marty out early to pick up a Chipotle burrito bowl, chips, salsa, and an order of fries from McDonald's. With all that grease I'm probably lucky I didn't barf, but it was absolutely glorious. He had perfect timing and walked in with the food at exactly the moment they came to take me off the mag drip (and get rid of the catheter!). I think I shoveled half the carton of fries in my mouth in one bite before I was completely overcome by the need to hop out of bed and take a shower. I didn't hop very far, apparently laying in bed for 36 hours does goofy things to your legs. So it was more like I wobbled into the shower, with the nurse trailing me the whole time saying "are you sure you're ok, maybe you should take a few minutes to stretch and test your legs first". I locked the door to prevent any more of that nonsense from occurring to her. It was one of the best showers I ever took and I probably could have stayed in there for hours had it not occurred to me that I had Chipotle waiting outside. I tore into that burrito with a ferocity like a lion on Animal Planet. I may have quite possibly eaten the cardboard container and bag too, I can't be sure. But I went to bed that night an extremely happy, stuffed, clean, proud new Mommy.
0 comments:
Post a Comment