Tuesday. The induction is underway.
We met Elizabeth at the hospital the night before. To keep the TMI level down, I'll just say the first step is a procedure to help get my pregnant parts ready to go. Fortunately it doesn't involve me doing anything; just hanging out and trying to get some sleep. Although I did start having some small contractions early in the morning, so after that, sleep was hard to come by.
I should take a moment here to say how wonderful it was working with my midwives — Barbara and Elizabeth. (An extra side note: Barbara is originally from OKC and attended Putnam City before West or North existed.) One of the main reasons I chose to go that route instead of an obstetrician was the personal care you receive throughout the labor process. And their relationship with the hospital staff came into play from the very beginning for me: I was not going to get along with my nurse. Mrs. Green.
Ah, Mrs. Green. If only I knew your first name. Old school, old school, old school. Our first clash was seconds after we walked into my room and she couldn't understand why I wanted to wear my own gown instead of a hospital gown. (Do you realize how long I could be here before I have this baby, Mrs. Green?) Then she whips out a needle to stick an IV in my arm and I had the NERVE to question her. (Barbara had specifically told me I didn't need an IV through this first stage. And once you have that IV your mobility is much more restricted.) Through gritted teeth, she agreed to hold off until Elizabeth arrived. And, of course, no IV was confirmed once she got there. Thankfully, Elizabeth was able to switch me to a different nurse. Thank you, sweet Elizabeth. I would have had a needle in my arm all night and my ass hanging out if I'd been with an OB instead of a midwife.
So other than some minor contractions, not much was happening. I was able to take a shower (no IV, thankyouverymuch) and have a bit of breakfast before the real induction started -- a pitocin drip around 10:00 that morning. But that pitocin is some powerful stuff. Over the course of the morning and early afternoon, my contractions were getting incredibly painful. I kept asking Elizabeth, "If I was laboring at home would you have sent me to the hospital yet?" And she kept answering, "No, not yet." Sweet Jesus!
My original plan had been to use the birthing center at the hospital — which means no epidural. Insanely, or perhaps ignorantly, enough I still wanted to see if I could make it through the birth drug-free. And I lasted a good long while. Even Elizabeth seemed impressed. But, I'll tell you, getting induced HURTS. Pitocin is some nasty stuff. And it got even worse after she manually broke my water. By 5:00 I couldn't take it anymore. We did one more check and found that I was still only dilated to 5cm. Bring on the drugs! NOW! And by 5:30 I was in heaven.
Epidurals are amazing. I still wish I could have avoided it, but I couldn't believe the difference. I went from incredible agony to bliss in moments. I even slept for a bit. And, around 9:00, Barbara had arrived to relieve Elizabeth, I was FINALLY dilated to 10cm, so we decided I could start pushing.
Mr. P and I had joked when we arrived at the hospital the night before that it was too bad I'd have the baby on April 4th, instead of April 5th ... it would be much cooler for his birthday to be 04-05-06.
Little did we know.
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