Please disregard the fact that this post is 5 months postpartum. And way too long.
December 27, 2011- the day before.
So, back around 36, 37, & 38 weeks pregnant*, my doctor measured my "fundal height" (basically, the growing belly). Her first assessment at 36 weeks was "oh you're lucky baby's going to be small, maybe 6 to 7 lb!" (helped by an ultrasound measuring Georgia at 33% of her gestational age). Her next guess at 37 weeks was "hm, she's probably going to be average size, in the 7lb range." And finally, giving up at 38 weeks, said "OK this baby is going to be a big one." AKA I have no idea what's going on until baby actually comes out.
*If you've seen any of the large marge pics from previous posts you are well aware that the human growing inside my belly seemed quite sizable. Ultrasound was a little off that day.*
All that to say, Dr. didn't want me going past my due date provided that my child was going to be Large, per her educated guess. SO, at my 38 week appointment, I reluctantly scheduled an induction (on the promise that I could cancel it at any time) on December 28, my due date.
Two weeks passed, and no baby. I was sure this child would have been here before Christmas, and maybe even earlier....a possible sprint out of the classroom while giving my final exam...who knows. I was way wrong.
I tried to change the induction date twice to no avail. "No doctor from our practice is on call that day at the hospital. And I'm only on call on Wednesdays." My thought: AHHHHHHH!
Alas, after walking 3 miles/day for 2 weeks, eating Torchy's tacos and queso, and trying to do that other thing that supposedly helps babies start contracting their way out....I was just sore. full. and baby-less.
I signed the "induction paper" promising that I wouldn't consume anything but water, sugar-free jello, and Gatorade past midnight the night before Dec 28. This was to insure that I wouldn't sue anyone in the case that everything went wrong and I ended up with an emergency C-section, and after being given anesthesia I throw up AND aspirate/choke on it/die. Talk about jumping from A to Z. Wait, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, induction. So I starved myself that night waiting for a phone call at 4am. (slash, i was only STARVING in the middle of the night when I should have been sleeping because I wasn't allowed to eat anything. duh.)
I can't sleep, and am nervous out of my mind. I've never had a baby before!! So many things are about to change!!! No phone call at 4am. I called at 5am. They told me they were super busy and to call back around 9:30am if I hadn't heard from them by then. No call, again. I call back. This time, if I don't hear from them by 11am, they will reschedule me for another day. At 10:23am I get a call from a nurse who asks if I can get there within 15 minutes. OF COURSE I CAN! and of course we haven't even finished packing a bag by the due date, nor were even out of our pajamas.
We literally sprint around the loft throwing clothes around, grabbing everything that looks baby-ish, and leave the place in shambles.
I'm soooooo nervous. So, when we get out of the car at the hospital, I walk in and automatically start gagging. What? Why? I have no clue. Never happened to me before now. Also never had a baby before now. It was pretty awkward because the man at the welcome desk said, "Uh, ma'am, the bathroom is THAT way!" I don't throw up. I regain my "composure" and we go up to L&D floor to check in and get a room.
11:40ish: I get in the room, and they get all monitors strapped around me. I get checked, and I'm at a 4 (I was at a 3 and 80% effaced for 2 weeks with no change). Apparently, after watching the monitors for about 30 min, I'm having regular contractions that are 2 1/2 min apart. Cool, I'm already in labor and I don't feel it.
12:15pm: Pitocin is started to get the contractions going strong/steady. AKA induction.
Significant time passes and I still don't feel any pain. People in and out visiting.
Then, they decide it's time to break my water.
2:00ishpm: breakage of waters. weirdest thing in the WORLD.
sometime about an hour later I decide two things: 1. I'm in pain now. 2. I should probably try to poop before this whole thing goes down.
3:30ishpm: I stop talking to Broun during my contractions and think it's about time for an epidural. I get checked again after the epidural and I'm at a 5-6. slow go.
Then, a mixture of things happened; DVDs, nausea, anti-nausea medicine, side stitch, more epidural after asking for some Tylenol (somehow they are synonyms when you're in labor...), going completely paralyzed from the waist down, and begging them to shut off my epidural completely (some time around 7pm).
I felt so out of control with a paralyzed body that I didn't know what to do with myself. I told the doctor this and anyone else who has asked about my experience that you could have cut off my legs with a butter knife and I wouldn't have felt a thing. There was no way to even think my legs into submission to move from right to left. I couldn't even wiggle a toe!! Worst sensation/non-sensation ever.
It took about 10-15 minutes of begging to persuade my doctor into shutting off all anesthesia. Success.
8pm: I'm at a 10. Ready to rock and roll. Speaking of rock and roll: Planes, Trains, and Automobiles was playing in the background.
8:05pm-8:25pm: Push time!
Talk about being nervous. Everything got real to me at this point. All this waiting, medicine, rules, restrictions, etc. and finally FINALLY this human that has been growing inside me for nearly 10 months, who was once a speck smaller than my eye can see, is going to make her appearance in a matter of minutes. All I could think about was A) was she healthy and was her heartbeat not too slow or too fast and B) push effectively. figure out how to freaking bear down so A) can happen.
8:25pm: Georgia Bella Stacy is born!! 8lb 13oz, 20 3/4 in. She was perfect and pink. =)
First family pic. December 28, 2011
and 5 months later:
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