lightning crashed... (happy birthday, evelyn jane)

Exactly two years ago at this time I was three hours away from giving birth to Evelyn. I'd been in the hospital for about 6 or 7 hours, since around 1 AM (I really don't remember what time we got to the hospital). The night before was the night of Father's Day, 2009, and three days past my due date. I remember Jason and I went for a walk and I walked with one foot on the curb and one foot off, something my mom did right before my sister was born, and something that was supposed to get the baby moving along..... on our walk it started to rain, really hard, and so I was walking as fast as I could, which, when you're 40-something pounds over your normal weight and it's mostly concentrated in a big hard bubble on your midsection, is not very fast. I waddled home as fast as I could.

Later that evening we were watching TV at Jason's house (this was before we had our own place, when I lived with my parents and he lived with his), and around 10:30 he brought me back home. As I got out of the car I told him my back was hurting a little bit, but my back had been hurting a lot lately (see aforementioned bubble), and he joked that maybe I'd have to call him soon....

I went inside and my back was really hurting, and I felt some light cramping, so I got the heat pack and lied down in bed, thinking I'd just try to sleep. But this cramping kept intensifying, and coming in waves, but I didn't jump to the conclusion of contractions right away because I was under the impression that when contractions first start, they're far apart, like 20 minutes, and then get closer and closer.... But no, these were three minutes apart, if that. But I went to wake up my mom and we went downstairs and kinda waited around to see what would happen, and the cramping got more and more intense, but still not unbearable. But I called Jason anyway, because I figured this was it, this was the night, this was labor. He came over and shortly after my contractions were becoming unbearable, and only 1 1/2 to 2 minutes apart. There was no recovery time in between them - as soon as the pain of one subsided, the next one was working it's way up.

Jason called the hospital to ask if we should come in, even though I'd only been having contractions for a short amount of time. The nurse asked what my pain level was on a scale of 1-10, and I think I said 6 or 7, but had I known how bad it could be, I would have said 3.

My mom brought me my bag (the only time in my adult life I've been packed early for something), and Jason and I left for the hospital. I remember we were stopped at a red light and had to turn left on the highway. Since it was after midnight on a Sunday (technically Monday), the roads in our town were empty, and he was thisclose to running the red light, but what stopped him was the fear of a hidden police car seeing us and pulling us over, which would result in an even longer wait.

Originally I really wanted to have a natural birth - no pain meds, no epidural, etc. I thought of all the women, in the history of human existence, who'd had natural births (both my mom and Jason's mom included), and I was all like "I can do it too!" And had I been living 200 years ago I would have had no choice but to give birth naturally (I would have also had a much higher risk of fatality, both myself and the child, since maternal and infant mortality rates were incredibly high at that time, but that's another post for another day....)

I was so set on this natural birth that I'd even been studying Buddhist philosophy and meditation, learning how to not fear or reject pain but embrace it and let it run its course. And I figured, 20 minutes between contractions? Plenty of time to regroup and breathe and ease my way into the more intense contractions....

Well that plan was scratched pretty fast. Five minutes into our ride to the hospital I said to Jason, "They're gonna have to give me something."

You see, not only do I have an incredibly low pain tolerance, but I also had no regrouping time - these contractions were so close together that I might as well have had just one long contraction, because that's pretty much how it was. When we got to the hospital I was close to delusional, and when I was having a contraction I couldn't walk, so we had to wait in the car for one to be over, then rush to the front door, where we had to wait till one was over, then rush to the front desk, where I instantly had another one....yeah. They brought me a wheelchair.

And then when we got up to our room on the third floor the nurse tells me to change into this gown and pee into this cup. That was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Because of course I had to wait till a contraction was over before I could pee, and then I had to pee really fast before another one started.

One of the other hardest things I've ever had to do was lie still while the anesthesiologist stuck the epidural needle in my back, while I was having a contraction. I remember gripping that metal railing of the bed so hard, trying so hard to be still, because I really didn't want him to mess up the epidural and paralyze me or something. And the first time he started to put the needle in I felt tingling in my leg and I said, "My leg!" and he said, "Which leg?!" and quickly pulled the needle out. Scary, scary. Not only do I have a low pain tolerance, but I also have an irrational fear of medical needles. It's called trypanophobia. But this was the one time in my life that physical pain took over that irrational fear. Which is a good thing, because otherwise I would have been writhing in pain, shaking uncontrollably, crying, AND hyperventilating. Instead I was just in pain (I can't even remember if I was crying. Maybe just a little bit? Jason would know better).

But once the epidural kicked in, which was pretty soon after, wow, I was glad I'd done it. I was able to spend most of the rest of my labor feeling calm and relaxed, being in my right mind (I only got an epidural, which doesn't affect your mental state or anything, just numbs you from the waist down).

Except some other dramatic things did happen.....for example, my contractions were so strong that Evelyn (still "the baby" to us at this point) was under a lot of stress, and her heart rate was abnormally high. This worried my doctor, who told the nurses to get the OR ready, just in case. Instantly I knew: OR=Operating Room=C-section. That's when I freaked out and called my mom. I really really really did not want a C-section. They injected me with something to slow down the contractions, and finally it worked. So the OR prep was canceled.

The next few hours were spent in relaxation, Jason asleep on the chair on one side of the bed, my mom alert and ready on the other side. She left for coffee and I had some time to reflect on the experience, to feel excited, to imagine who this child was, would be.... and that was really nice. Had I foregone the epidural, I doubt the experience would have been as calm as it was at points. I can almost guarantee you I would have vomited or passed out, or, most likely, both. For even with the epidural, I could still feel the contractions at their highest point.

When I was 10 cm dilated (which means you're ready to push), I pushed once or twice and my doctor was immediately impatient, said that the baby didn't move at all when I pushed, and then she told the nurse to give me some Pitocin (a druge that speeds up contractions. It's also given to induce labor). And that's when I said, "Um, can we not do that? I'd like to try pushing again." It still kind of irks me that my doctor talked about me like I wasn't in the room and didn't ask me if I wanted those drugs in my body. I'd barely had a chance to push and wanted to try some more.

So I did. And an hour or so went by, and Evelyn made a little progress, but not much, and when my doctor came back she said I had an hour left to get the baby out or I'd need a C-section.

Wait, what? I thought we'd passed the whole C-section business. But this is what they don't tell you in birthing class - when a woman has an epidural, she has three hours to get the baby out once she's 10 cm. If she doesn't have an epidural, she has two hours. And I still think this is ridiculous - how can you put a time limit on the most natural process of human existence? It's just a way for the hospitals to get you in and out as fast as they can (because the more patients they have the more money they make).

I told myself I was NOT having a C-section, that I would get this baby out. And, at my doctor's advice, I did then, reluctantly, agree to Pitocin. When it came down to more drugs or a full-on surgery, which would also require more drugs, I chose just the drugs.

And I pushed so hard I thought my lungs and heart and brain would explode. But out she came, with a half hour to spare.

          

And whenever I think of that day I think of this song:

lightning crashes, a new mother cries

her placenta falls to the floor

the angel opens her eyes

the confusion sets in
before the doctor can even close the door

lightning crashes, an old mother dies
her intentions fall to the floor
the angel closes her eyes
the confusion that was hers
belongs now, to the baby down the hall

oh now feel it comin' back again
like a rollin' thunder chasing the wind
forces pullin' from the center of the earth again
I can feel it.

lightning crashes, a new mother cries
this moment she's been waiting for
the angel opens her eyes
pale blue colored iris,
presents the circle
and puts the glory out to hide, hide