I decided to make a space to rant, discuss, review and just get things off my chest. Please note that mental illness and addiction are things I live with, so this might be triggering to some. I'm holding nothing back.
My baby girl Serenity was born on 11/2. She's here and she is beautiful:
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Here is the traditional birth story entry:
Let me just start off by saying that I gave birth, again, without an epidural or any kind of pain management. Why? Because I'm insane? Because it's funny? Because I'm secretly on a reality show that tests how long it takes to drive a normal person insane? Who knows, but it's true. All my friends when I tell them are like, "No way! That's the one thing you wanted! How did this happen to you again?!" Here's how.
Last time I didn't even know I was having a baby until I was giving birth over a toilet, but this time I had a plan. This time, she thought naively, I'm in total control of the situation. I've got this worked out. And I was in total control, basically. I mean, I was being induced. You can't get much more control over labor than that.
So me and hubby go to the hospital at 8pm on 11/1 as scheduled. The first thing they do is check my cervix only to find I was already 2 centimeters dilated. I wasn't surprised because for the past couple days I'd been feeling some weird and intense pains down there. We went to early vote right before going to the hospital and it happened as I was walking into the polling place: a wicked shot of pain in my crotch that made tears spring to my eyes. So the fact that labor had kinda "started" on its own was not shocking to me and was in fact a welcome piece of news.
At that point they gave me a med called Miso (I guess like the soup) that softens your cervix even more. Then we went to sleep. The next 2 times they checked me I was still only at 2 centimeters even though I was starting to feel crampy contractions. They gave me a third dose of miso about 6 in the morning. From there I was able to count the contractions on an app and all was going according to my extremely well laid plan.
Now they had told me from the start that to get an epidural I had to get labs drawn and an OK from the lab. That would take one hour. I also knew from research that it takes about a full hour to get the anesthesiologist up to the room, do the procedure and then get the medicine to actually kick in. So a full two hours from the moment you ask for the epidural until the moment of sweet relief. I was waiting until I was about 4-5 centimeters dilated because I saw on a website that this was a good time to ask for it.
That time came at around 11:30 in the morning. I said I wanted to get the epidural process going. They drew my labs, sent them down. Cool, cool. All going according to plan. I bounced around on a birthing ball and took a wonderful jacuzzi bath.
After the bath, I don't know, something changed. Big time. By then it had been an hour and we were still waiting on labs, and my contractions had become extremely painful. Almost a minute long each and right on top of each other. We're talking white knuckle, limb twisting, can't even talk type of pain.
Up until this point they had avoided giving me fentanyl because I'm still on a small dosage of Suboxone and they didn't want me to experience opiate withdrawal on top of labor (I can't say I did either). But I was suffering so much and hadn't even taken my sliver of Suboxone pill in days so they chanced it with a tiny dose of fentanyl. I felt nothing. No withdrawal, but also no pain relief. They tried again. Nothing. It was useless.
By then I was beginning to panic. I could sense my doom. I knew I was close, way too close. If we didn't get those labs back like RIGHT THEN, it was over for me. I began to envision my fate of giving birth full natural, again, to an actual full term baby this time, and I started crying. It was a low moment. I was saying things like, "I'm scared. Help me. Someone please help me." I felt like I was gonna die for sure.
And my poor husband had to explain to the nurse that this was, legit, like my worst birth nightmare coming true. The nurse had me stand up and lean on the bed for the next few contractions, and I felt it: that pressure. You know the one that sent me to the toilet right before I had Ethan.
My mind cleared. The tears stopped. I didn't beg. In that moment I accepted my fate. It was too late and I was going to give birth cold turkey again. The sweet nurses were still frantically calling for my labs and I told them it was over and I was about to have her, so they called up the midwife. Sure enough, I had jumped from 5 centimeters to 10 in the course of an hour and ten minutes. This time I wasn't panicking though because I knew exactly how it would feel.
I did everything they told me and started to push. It's interesting, but you can actually feel yourself ripping apart. It wasn't like 3 pushes and then done like it was with Ethan either. I had to push for about half an hour this time. I think there were moments I was hallucinating. I remember closing my eyes and just seeing like a flood of colors and images like that scene in the 70's Willy Wanka when they're in the tunnel and all those scary scenes are playing out on the walls like chickens getting their heads cut off and shit. It was like that. I was in my own little hell world.
Finally I felt her come out and they put her on my chest and a flood of happy relief ran through me. I held her and said, "We did it!" And then they took her away to do all the things they do. At this point when I had Ethan, my pain was gone. Totally over. I didn't even feel them stitch me up or the placenta come out or anything.
WELL... Not THIS time, folks. I felt myself still having contractions. Okay, what the fuck? Maybe it was because I hadn't delivered the placenta. Okay, there it comes, so I'm good now. Right? Wait, what the fuck? At this point I asked it out loud, "WHY am I still having contractions?!"
"Oh it's the induction medicine we gave you. You'll feel them for two more days."
TWO MORE DAYS!!!
At this point I about lost my motherfucking MIND. They also started to stitch me up. I didn't know how fucked up I was because I was still in a state of so much pain it was impossible to even pinpoint the origin. I felt every stitch though. Then they had to push on my uterus and it was like a slow punch to the stomach over and over and over. By then I was sobbing helplessly again and just saying I wanted the pain to stop and when would it stop?
Spoiler Answer: No.
But then they finally gave me my baby and I felt the first moments of happiness and love as I looked at her adorable face and messy dark hair. Man she is CUTE. She makes squeaky noises constantly so we've nicknamed her Mouse. She is healthy and happy, the best news I could hope for, and I love her so much. I'm already addicted to holding her and smelling her hair.
I'm also happy to report I did not experience contractions for two more days. Instead it was more like cramps. They kept us in the recovery ward because my blood pressure was still through the roof. I have a level 3 laceration which is pretty bad and a bunch of other, lesser, stitches. I ordered a sitz bath and some other things to help me cope. Every movement is agony and coughing (still coughing from being sick a few weeks ago) is like being stabbed in the crotch.
We got discharged yesterday at noon. I'm in so much pain I feel dazed and out of it. I guess it doesn't help that we aren't sleeping much either. I can tell these days are going to be kind of a blur.
Ethan is at my in-laws and I haven't seen him since 11/3 when they all came to the hospital. I miss him so bad and I'm overly emotional and break down in tears when I see his toys. I just want all of us together again even though the extra time to develop a routine with Serenity is good.
