| Labor Day |
Today is already seeming to be a "better" day in the Bennetch household. I had about 4 or 5 hours of interrupted sleep last night, so I'm feeling downright energetic. I figure I should get down my impressions of my labor story before it all fades away from my memory. I know there's an old adage that the pains fade with time -- so I should preserve them here for all posterity!
Okay, the "pains" weren't too encompassing, and I can honestly say that the whole ordeal was so completely worthwhile -- and any pain I went through was pretty much erased when I finally got to hold my little girl in my arms for the first time. But, to be fair, I had no idea what was ahead of me in terms of the whole delivery process. I just don't think you can prepare yourself for this type of experience, which could be a good thing.
 On Tuesday, January 16th, I was sure the baby was going to make an appearance. The contractions were coming on strong, and they were getting closer and closer. It's quite something to have this little one inside of you for so long, and then -- before you know it -- it's time for her to come out into the world. I suppose I was already an overprotective mother, because part of me wanted to keep her safely inside of me for a little while longer.
Well, we all know what happened on the 16th. No baby. The contractions faded and became irregular, and I woke up on the 17th a little more than upset that all that "work" was for naught. Jerry and I woke up early, headed out to breakfast at our favorite bagel place, and then went to our 39-week checkup.
At the doctor's office I was thrilled to learn that my uterus was indeed doing its job the day before, and that I was already 3-4 cm dilated (10 cm = fully dilated). That, and since 8am that morning, I had started back with regular contractions. By the time the doctor's appointment was over, they were around 7-8 minutes apart. The doctor advised us, "don't go too far." She pretty much told us that at this rate, the baby would be arriving that day.
Jerry and I then went walking around at the mall for about an hour or so, picking up some last minute supplies. The contractions started getting pretty intense, making me pause occasionally as we walked. We decided that we should probably get ourselves over to the hospital.
 At 1:30pm, we checked into Royal University Hospital -- a hospital only a few blocks away from where we live. It was exciting to be getting this show on the road -- but I also remember feeling pretty intimidated at the same time. I'd read all the books, gone to the classes, watched the videos ... but all that knowledge was pretty academic to facing the real thing.
In the Antepartum unit I was checked over by one of the residents, and was found to be 5+ cm dilated -- halfway there! The contractions started coming on stronger and closer together then, but we were stuck in the Antepartum unit for a couple hours until they had a delivery room finally open for us.
We got into our delivery room after 4pm sometime, and I was really feeling it. I had progressed some in my dilation, to about 7cm. It was at this point I nicely (but firmly) asked for an epidural. I debated back and forth before going in about what I wanted to do for pain relief -- and Jerry and I both decided the best option would be to get an epidural. Not only is it safe for me and baby, but Saskatoon is innovative in its use of walking epidurals -- and, quite frankly, I didn't want to have most of my memories associated with my delivery to be ones of excruciating pain.
Thing is, apparently January 17th was the day most babies in Saskatoon decided to be born. Over the course of the next 4+ hours, I was set up and prepped for the epidural four separate times, only for the doctor to be called away for a C-section or some other urgent need. Meanwhile, as I'm waiting for it, on the delivery ward Jerry and I could hear several women sans-epidural giving birth -- complete with the gutteral and panicked screams you've seen on various TV and movies. Needless to say, it was not fun hearing this, especially when you know that you're next (and could be one without, as well).
Thankfully, at around 9 or 10pm or so, I got the epidural and was finally able to get some rest. Remember, I've been in some stage of labor since 8am that morning. I was tired. Jerry and I had brought some CDs with us and slept to some Loreena McKennitt and Sarah MacLachlan.
When they checked my progress a while later, I had stalled quite a bit. Some of it was due to the epidural, but alot of it was because I was laying down during the contractions. My doctor decided to artificially break my water, hoping that would speed things up. It didn't. I ended up being on a hormone drip of some kind that helped speed up my contractions.
Eventually, at around 1:30am or so, I was finally fully dilated (10 cm). A good thing. Unfortunately, baby was still high up inside my uterus and hadn't descended past the -1 position. It wouldn't do any good for me to push at this point, because she was too high up. We had to wait for her to descend more into my pelvis.
So, more waiting. Only, since I was fully dilated, this meant waiting during the "transition" portion of labor -- with super-strong contractions and the overarching desire to push. Not fun. The epidural wasn't helping, and it was at this point I transitioned over into my "Becky in labor" personality. I seriously had to tune everything out, and focus on getting through each individual contraction, each breath I took. The contractions were coming fast and intense, with only a minute or less break in-between.
As I'm contracting, the delivery ward was super busy. Instead of having one nurse look after us, we had a revolving door of different nurses and doctors come in, as everyone was frantically trying to deliver the onslaught of babies that decided to be born that day.
Eventually I was given just a little more to my epidural, so I could rest a little while before the pushing part of labor began. I was able to rest some, but it wasn't long before my doctor came into the room (around 5am) and started prepping for the actual delivery.
My feelings at this point were all over the place. I wanted to see my baby, but I was seriously terrified at what was ahead. I suppose alot of this fear was due to the unknown factors. It didn't matter, though, because this baby was in the +2 position, and ready to enter the world -- Mama ready or not.
I assumed the position, with Jerry on my left, a nurse on my right, my doctor and a resident in front of me. As soon as a contraction started I was told to take a deep breath, release, and then breathe in and push as hard as I could for 10 seconds (then repeat this 2-3 times more).
Sounds simple enough, right? Hard. Very hard. Focusing on pushing, keeping my legs and pelvis flexible, and ignoring the pain wasn't easy. I may have had an epidural, but they're pretty much useless at this point (believe me). The hardest part about the pushing, at least initially, is that there isn't much of a payoff. I'm huffing and puffing, and seeing no results. At one point I asked my doctor if there was any progress. She said, "some." I then said, "I don't want just some progress!"
One of the reasons why it's hard to gauge the progress is that the baby has to travel around the pelvis -- which is no small feat. As I'm pushing, I lost track of time and everything around me (well, except for Jerry beside me, counting to 10). Finally the baby rounded the corner and started bearing down -- hard -- on its way out. Oh, man. That was definitely not my favorite part. The pushing instinct was on full-force, but I was running out of energy. I had been pushing for over an hour at this point.
I was exhausted, but somehow I kept going through with the pushing despite the pain of it all -- looking back, I'm fairly surprised at my self-resilience (which may sound entirely self-absorbed, but then again, this is my personal account of my labor experience). Eventually (well, about an hour and 10 minutes into the pushing), my doctor pulled Jerry aside to show him Emma's head emerging.
This was what I was waiting for -- PROGRESS! Yet now was the time my doctor started holding me back from full-force pushes, and had me do shorter ones instead. It was so that I wouldn't hurt myself more than necessary, and allow the stretching to naturally occur around the emerging baby. Again, more self-restraint was needed here, as it was highly uncomfortable feeling this 8-pound baby making its way out.
I don't remember alot of what went on during this period, but I do remember the last few pushes that brought out my Emma. I remember hearing my doctor exclaim it was a girl (which I instinctively knew all along, thankyouverymuch), and I remember looking at Jerry's teary eyes. Then Jerry laid my little girl on my chest, and I heard her cry for the first time.
The rest, as they say, is history. Emma got a 8 and a 9 on her Apgar tests, showing that she's already a smart and talented girl. We spent the next day and a half at the hospital, gawking over our little creation. (and I spent alot of it amazed that this little one came out of ME!)
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