Birth Story - Abbreviated Because I'm Tired!

We did it! Evangeline Skye was born on 2/22 at 8:44pm weighing 5lb 10oz and 19 inches long! I wanted to write my birth story down before I forgot any of the details, but I have to issue a warning that it's not for the faint of heart, and probably not for people about to give birth.

We got the call at 6:45pm on Tuesday that E's lungs were mature and we'd be starting the induction that night at 7:30. We were running behind and didn't actually get there until 8:30 but that was ok. We got hooked up to monitors and the doctor put the Cervidil in pretty soon after we got there, and I got my IV. It hurt like a son of a bitch to get the cervidil put in because my cervix was so high, but she got it done and left me alone for the night. I felt like I had to pee every 4 seconds, so I only managed to get a little bit of sleep. When they took the Cervidil out they said I was 30% effaced, and closed. We then started Pitocin at around 9:30, and supposedly I was 50% and a fingertip. I started getting contractions on the Pitocin, but they weren't bad, so over the course of the next 8 hours they kept upping it. By 4:30 we were at the highest dose, and I was having regular contractions, but still not much pain. My regular OB came in at 5 to talk to me and check me. He said I was 505, but I was actually still closed. After almost 24 hours of attempting to induce and 8 of Pitocin. We also checked my creatinine and it was back to 1.7. He gave me the option of cutting off the Pit and trying again the next day, or getting a C section, and I chose the C section. I didn't want to go through another 24 hours being that uncomfortable if nothing was going to happen.

They prepped me, which meant getting the monitors off (yay!) but we got pushed back so it was about 8:00 by the time I went to the OR. And that's where the night of hell began. The anesthesiologist I'd been talking to was off at this point so I had someone different. I was really nervous, and when they took my BP in the OR it was 220/110, so she put something in the IV to relax me. It didn't. She gave me a local, and immediately put in the needle for the catheter, which I could feel going into my spine and it sucked. Then I felt one on the other side. Then 2 more. Then another local, and then another catheter needle. That's 7 sticks if you're paying attention. A was waiting outside the whole time. He says people kept coming out and saying "Oh we're doing the epidural now" until one woman came in and said "You're still in here!?". A said he knew something was wrong then. And it felt wrong. I don't know how to explain it. I was not relaxed in any way, my BP was not coming down, and I could feel a lot.

I told them I could feel a lot, so they kept giving me more medicine, and gave me an oxygen mask. It finally worked and I could feel pressure, but not pain, and they started the C section. They say the surgery only takes a few minutes but it felt like an eternity, and at some point I started feeling like I couldn't breathe. I kept telling them that and they kept telling me I was fine. By the time they got E out, A went to go look at her and kept telling me how beautiful she was, but I couldn't concentrate because something was WRONG. I felt like my mask was choking me, and I realized I couldn't feel either of my arms. And then I got sick. I kept feeling like I had to throw up, but everything was numb, so I couldn't, and instead spit started coming out and sliding down my face. They had a vomit basket thing next to me but I couldn't use it, so I just kept spitting up. I told them to take the mask off of me and they did, but they kept telling me to put my arms over my chest. I kept saying "I can't move my arms" but it was like they didn't believe me. I said (in probably the nastiest tone imaginable) "I SAID I CANT MOVE MY ARMS" but it wasn't a yell because I wasn't breathing right.

I told A to go with E to take photos so he did, but he was terrified for me. When he came back to recovery I still couldn't feel my arms, and my BP was I think 80/40 or something. At one point, because I have a cold, I got some stuff stuck in my airways, but because I was numb, I couldn't cough it out, and I couldn't breathe. I gurgled out "Please help me" to the nurse and she said she couldn't. I was choking, with the absolute tiniest bit of air coming in, but not enough, and I kept trying to cough, and she kept saying she couldn't cough for me. I'm pretty sure if I could've moved my arms I would've socked her.

Somehow I managed to get the stuff out of my throat, and eventually regained movement in my arms, and they moved me to the Maternal Child ward, and I got to see my baby through a window in the nursery, but they wouldn't give her to me because I was so out of it.

I got into the room and said I didn't feel good and proceeded to vomit all over myself, so A and the tech had to change my sheets and give me anti-nausea meds. They didn't work too well because I did it again, but I made it into the bucket that time. They finally brought E in to me in the middle of the night and I got to hold her. I'm pretty sure she's the most beautiful baby that ever lived.

We had a rough few nights and they had to bottle feed her at first. She's taking to the breast now, but there isn't anything for her, so she was super fussy. I started supplementing after giving her time at the breast, and she's much happier now, and so are mommy and daddy. We're trying to get my milk to come in but at least she's eating.

She's worth it... completely. But it was a horrendous experience and I hope if we have more kids we don't have to deal with that again. Anyway, without further adieu, meet Evangeline!