"Is there a part of you that feels relieved that we get to control when we go into labor? No stressing about rushing to the hospital?"
-Alisha
"No, not really at all. You?"
-Me
"Yeah, I was so worried about you going into labor and not being able to get there on time. Why does it not make you feel better?"
-Alisha
"Because I am losing that excitement, that rush of heading to the hospital, that dramatic moment you see in every movie. I cannot help but feel just a little sad about it,"
-Me
Here we were at 37 weeks 3 days gestation, driving to the hospital, heading to our induction. This was the last thing I wanted, okay maybe the second to last (scheduled c-section wins the number one spot) but we had to do this. My blood pressure had unexpectedly spiked the last few weeks of pregnancy and they could not get it under control. I was tested over and over again for preeclampsia but I did not develop it. I was just one of those people that developed Gestational Hypertension and it was making my anxiety skyrocket. GH didn't care that I had taken such good care of my body while pregnant, that I had denied myself ice-cream and cheeseburgers with a huge cherry coke. It didn't care that I was doing yoga and taking it easy. So we sat in my doctor's office on Wednesday the 12th discussing bringing this baby into the world. We could wait and see if I ended up with preeclampsia or if my pressures reached dangerous levels or we could induce. My doctor did not push us in either direction, but I knew what I needed to do. I needed this baby out. I needed to reduce the risk that I would die or that his placenta would no longer provide him the nutrition he needed. Alisha was on board and we scheduled our induction for the next day. We drove to Chick-Fil-A, sat and tried to unpack the decision we had just made. I didn't sleep a wink that night and Lawd, how I wish I had.
I told no one that I had GH, I told no one we were inducing. I was embarrassed and ashamed. Although my doctor explained that GH affects so many pregnancies and that there was not anything I can do about it other than deliver my baby. It didn't matter what he said, I could hear all the naysayers in my life who would find a way to blame me, or my weight, or heck, my hair color. I also could not bear to tell anyone that we were inducing. I had desired so badly for a natural birth and I had heard so many people tell me that I was never going to get a natural birth, that birth plans were "stupid", and all sorts of awful discouraging things about my desire to go as naturally as possible. Those voices were playing over and over again in my head and I just did not want to hear those voices out loud. I know there are some of you that will comment with "I told you so" or anything like that and I will be choosing to immediately delete you as a friend from facebook and from my life. So think those thoughts to yourself, please.
So here is the story of how Alisha and I brought Everett Collier Smith into the world....
"My Bags are Packed I'm Ready to Go..."
Our bags had been packed for weeks but it still felt like a last minute scramble to get everything together. Even though I knew that I was losing my natural birth, I still wanted to go pain medication free, so I had YouTube videos of yoga movements, music, and multiple outfits to make me feel as human as possible during the labor and delivery. We were ready, as ready as we were going to be. I realized last minute that we did not have a picture of the two of us during this pregnancy, so Alisha set up the timer on her camera, and took this amazing picture.
Birth Plan Smersh Plan...
"Gosh, I really do not want an IV, is there any way to avoid that? We aren't doing IV meds right away, so it won't be used yet"
-Me
"No, not really. But don't worry, you won't have any tubing attached to it yet!"
-Nurse
Not the point, but not worth the battle, I guess. My doctor met us at the door to the labor and delivery floor. He gave us a big hug and told us it was going to be okay. He also made sure that the super nice room with the labor was getting ready for us. He also told us that he had been thinking about our induction plan all day and he was ready to get us a baby. We joked about timing, hoping to have a baby in 24 hours. We should have knocked on some wood.
Well that is a contraction!
The first medicine (Cytotec) went in and my cervix was checked (I was nooooowhere btw). We were told to go to sleep because things were about to get crazy. About two hours later, a slew of nurses rush in because they thought they saw a de-cell on the baby's monitor. Luckily, the baby was perfectly fine, but running and hiding from the monitors. This was horrible foreshadowing for the rest of my labor. The only position they could accurately read the baby in was lying on my back, which wasn't too terrible in the beginning. I only had to be continuously monitored for the first four hours of Cytotec and then hopefully I could go to intermittent monitoring. The medication was really only supposed to dilate my cervix and maybe give me a few contractions, well my body didn't get the memo. One of the nurses looked at the monitor and asked me "Did you feel that?". My answer, "meh?". "That was a contraction! And a good one!". Well dang, I can do this! Suddenly I was contracting every two and half to three minutes, we were rocking and rollin. I thought to myself, "YES! You are going to ROCK this! Baby in 12 hours!" Again, should have knocked on some wood. Four hours after the medicine went in and I was checked again, and I was still no where. SHUT up. Seriously? Sidenote: I also managed to hurt a first year resident's feelings by refusing to allow him to do future cervix checks, it was the most painful thing I had ever encountered, well up until that point. That same resident would be around so much but ended up being really supportive and awful but I totally know I hurt his feelings. So I knew that we would need another dose of Cytotec to get my cervix open but I found out I was not eligible because my body was contracting too much. So we had to sit and wait to see if the contractions I was having would do enough to get my cervix moving. Spoiler alert: it didn't happen. I contracted for 12 hours for nothing.
The next step, oh the next step. I cannot even. My fabulous doctor came in and said he had an idea. He wanted to insert something called a Cook Balloon. Basically, he would inflate two balloons, one inside my uterus, one outside, hoping to smush my cervix open. Well, that is the way I understood it anyways. It was honestly the most painful thing I have ever encountered, labor and delivery INCLUDED. At one point I screamed at him to stop and he had the nurse to sit bed up so he could see my face. He locked eyes with me and told me I could do this. To breathe and look at him. I survived. The balloons were going to be in for 12 hours or until they fall out. We were hoping they would fall out. I set myself up in the recliner and for the first time, fell asleep. I was contracting throughout my sleep, but I was still getting some rest. 12 hours later, the balloons were removed and I was re-checked. I was 2 centimeters. All that for TWO centimeters. I was devastated. My ever optimistic doctor said okay, "on to plan C!"
The next part was awful. They put in another medication called Cervidil to get my cervix opened. My doctor again told me to get some rest that it would take several hours for the medication to kick in. Famous last words. 15 minutes later my contractions were one on top of each other. Literally. I got maybe thirty seconds of break between contractions. The residents came in looking quite petrified. The medication was not supposed to do this. They had to get a good strip for my doctor so I had to lie on my back to get an accurate reading. There really was nothing worse than this. I tried to get lost in my own head as best as I can but there were so many noises, so many people poking and prodding me, so many blood pressure checks. I was staring to lose hope. Starting to lose my grip. I wanted pain medication, I wanted out, I could NOT do this. Alisha sat with me and talked me through every contraction. She helped me breathe, helped me focus on anything other than the hell I was in. If it was not for her, I would never had made it. In case you were trying to keep track, we were now at early Saturday morning.
They had to take the medication out (it was inserted in my cervix, fun stuff) and pulled me off the monitors so that I could rest, get off my back, and try to get comfortable. I was just about to be okay when the first year resident from earlier in our story walked in and told me he had to put back on the monitors for 10 minutes. I honestly thought I was going to punch the man. He was so incredibly apologetic and I could see the fear in his eyes, he had taken me off to early and he was worried about getting in trouble with my doctor. So, I complied. Back on my back. 10 minutes, I could do this. 20 minutes later, I sent Alisha to go get someone to get me off the effing monitors.
A Much Needed Break...
After the Cervadril came out, they had to get my uterus back under control. Dr.First Year Resident came in and told me to get in the tub. As much as that man had tortured me, I was thrilled with him. Laboring in the tub was so high on my wish list that I could hardly quantify it. The continuous monitoring had made it impossible and I was killing me to stare at the tub and not be able to use it. Alisha got the water started, I covered my stupid IV with a glove and got in. I have never felt such instant relief in my whole life. Alisha poured water over my belly and my contractions slowly became more manageable. For the first time in
