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My due date was October 13, 2008. So when
October 14th rolled around I felt anxious and frustrated with
my doctors. After attending all of the Bradley classes, kegals,
squats, and walking around my neighborhood a half a dozen
times, my doctors scheduled me come in that day around 2pm
to check me one final time and to perform a stress test on
Addie before my scheduled induction a couple days later.
I woke up that morning, which was my second
day on leave to tie up some loose ends and deep clean the
house before all of our beloved family members arrived from
out of town. I had my son to get to school, cables boxes to
return to Verizon, picture frames to purchase, and a few baby
items I had put off doing until the last minute. When I finally
arrived at my doctor’s appointment I was STARVING! I
was now thinking that putting off lunch wasn’t such
a great idea knowing that this appointment would probably
be over an hour long.
As we began our 20 minute stress test, my husband
and I engaged in small talk, mostly I teasing him about he
just got back from Chipotle’s after enjoying a filling
lunch with co-workers while I ran all his precious cable boxes
back to the store. ? He asked me how I was feeling and I said
“Actually I feel GREAT!” As I sat there motoring
the movement of the baby I began feeling moderate contractions.
Although they were strong enough to have to stop talking and
breathe through, there weren’t anything that I hadn’t
been experiencing for the past 2 weeks. I had basically come
to terms with them and had learned to ignore them if there
was not pattern (or even if there was).
After the stress test had been completed, my
husband and I were instructed to see our doctor just so she
could check my to see if I had dilated any further since last
weeks appointment (3cm/60% effaced). As one of our doctors
walked in the room she asked “So are you both ready?”
Shoot… what kind of question was that? I had been having
contractions for the past 8 weeks, kidney stones, etc. and
this woman is asking me if I’m ready? My husband answer’s
with “We’re as ready as we’ll ever be.”
While checking me, the doctor responds… “No, are
you ready now?” I look at my husband and he looks back
at me. “What???” “Well, your 4cm dilated,
70% effaced, and having contractions 4-6 minutes apart.”
The doctor says. I think I about fell off the table, just
thinking about what was in my very near future. We both look
at each other again and smile. “Yes, we can be ready
we just need to make a phone call to make arrangements for
our son who’s at school.” My husband replies.
After 5 minutes of making phone calls to our neighbor that
she would need to pick up Nicholas from school, our doctor
handed us the admittance papers for St. Joes and we were send
on our merry way.
As I drive to the hospital (which is across
the street), I am still feeling great. My contractions have
stopped both their intensity and consistently (which was not
unusual in my case). My husband had run home to grab our backpack
filled with our natural childbirth gear (tennis balls, massagers,
music, birth plan, etc.) You would think a zillion thoughts
and emotions would be going through my head, however all I
could think about was how I could not be admitted to the hospital
before having lunch. I park the car and quickly waddled myself
to the hospitals cafeteria.
As I sat there alone, eating a half of a Cuban
sandwich, chocolate chip cookie, and Gatorade it really began
to hit me that I was having our baby today!!! As adrenaline
ran through my body and my lunch filled my stomach, I pulled
out my laundry list of phone numbers of family and friends.
“Today’s the day!” I said excitedly, I am
admitting myself to the hospital here in just a few minutes.
My mother, who had already made two trips to
Tampa to only end up in false alarms, had told me that today
was the only day she could not leave town due to a late afternoon
meeting that she couldn’t get out of. Of course she
wasn’t shocked at all when I called her to tell her
the news. After missing my first son’s birth by merely
seconds, she had been so determined to be here for when her
grand-daughter was born. She told me that she would plan to
leave for Tampa from her office (in Fort Lauderdale) around
6pm after her meeting was over. “Keep those legs closed
until I get there” she joked.
The feelings that I began to feel as I walked down the hall
to admit myself into the hospital were a mixture of nervousness
of the unknown and excitement. Of course by now my contractions
had stopped completely and I just kind of laughed to myself
because this is exactly what I had been dealing with for the
past two weeks. I would begin having regular, consistent contractions
(anywhere from 10 min-4 min apart) that would last for about
an hour or two and then they would vanish into clear air.
Oh well… I was here now and I knew that there was no
turning back.
“Danielle Franke” a woman called
from the double doors of the labor and delivery ward. I swallowed
hard and looked at my watch. It was 4:00pm on the dot. I went
with her. Nervousness began to set in. I wasn’t nervous
about the labor or birth, as one would think. I was more scared
about dealing with these scary pro-drug nurses that began
surrounding me quickly. “Where was my husband?”
He must hurry before I began to get attacked by the pitocin
Nazi’s.
After being checked into my room it wasn’t
long before the nurses began their normal routines. Temperature
check, a 1,000 questions regarding my past medical history
(guess they didn’t get the pre-registration list I filled
out to avoid this whole fiasco), blood pressure, etc. I almost
busted out laughing when they asked… “When was
the last time you ate anything?” “Uh. About 5
minutes ago.” I replied. I will tell you that if looks
could kill, I’d be a dead Prego!
“My husband and I are planning a natural,
drug free birth”. I tell the nurses. They both look
at me and smile. “Okay honey, but just remember drugs
are always okay too.” “GREAT!” “Where
the hell is my husband?” I try to keep myself calm so
that the contractions that I am still having don’t stop
completely. All I can think about is now I’m admitted
to the hospital, they are about to break my water (which I
agreed to b/c it was better than the alternative…pitocin);
my contractions are no longer regular or as intense as they
had been earlier. I flip on the television, and who better
to help me relax than Ellen DeGeneres?
4:30pm: The doctor (the only one I’ve
NEVER met before) comes waltzing into the room. I turn down
the volume on the television. She introduces herself and checks
the monitor. “Hmm…” is the only word that
comes from her mouth. “Well… it looks as if your
contractions have slowed down.” I smile, although if
she could read my mind, she would have heard me telling her
“No Shit Sherlock!” “Well… let’s
break your water to see if that will get the ball rolling.”
I explain to her that I have agreed to have my water broken,
however I plan to have no other interventions that are medically
unnecessary as long as the baby is doing well. As she prepares
her tools to break the water, my husband walks in. “THANK
GOD, ALLELUAH!” A sense of relief surges through my
body. I can now quit playing defense and allow my husband
to take over. She inserts the instrument to break the membranes,
there is a slow trickle that begins immediately, and then
informs us that she will check on us again in about an hour
for progress. “If we don’t see much progress at
that time, I would like to go ahead and start you on the pitocin.”
She says. “We won’t be needing any tonight.”
My husband replies.
An hour later (5:30pm), I see our new nurse
for the evening. Although she looked like a playboy playmate
(which no woman giving birth wants to see) she was AWESOME!
After checking me, she informed me that I was still 4cm and
70% effaced. My contractions were now becoming more intense,
however there still was no “pattern” that they
wanted to see. Our nurse asked “What would you like
to do?” And we replied with… “Please give
us more time.” She smiled and told us that she would
let the doctor know and would be back to check on us again
in one hour.
During the next hour I made sure to take frequent
trips to the bathroom and used the birthing ball to remain
in the squatting position. As contractions grew stronger,
I would stand against the bed while my husband would massage
my lower back with a tennis ball we had brought home. Around
7:00pm, contractions began gaining intensity. I was not longer
about to walk or talk through contractions and had to work
hard at concentrating through them. Time in between contractions
was getting shorter and shorter. I was beginning to really
have to work hard, loosing track of time and those around
me during the actual contraction.
Our nurse rechecked us again at 8:00pm. By
this time I was really beginning to feel like the pain was
becoming unbearable and that I wouldn’t be able to keep
up at this pace for much longer. I am sure that I am transitioning.
When she rechecked me at this point I was now frustrated and
disappointment that I was still 4cm and 70% effaced. How was
I going to be able to make it 6 more cm in this amount of
pain? I am beginning to understand how people change their
minds about natural childbirth at this point.
Ten minutes later, I feel as if I need to have a bowel movement.
My husband is on the phone with my mother who is now on her
way into town, yet still a couple hours away. My contractions
are on top of one another with what feels like no time to
rest in between. I now tell my husband I must lay down b/c
I no longer have enough energy to squat. As soon as I lay
down on my side, I can feel my baby’s head drop through
my pelvis. It is at this point that I begin to feel the need
to push. My husband calls for the nurse. She seems disturbed
that she had just checked me no longer than 15 minutes ago.
Yet as she checks me she tells me not to push and that I am
complete and crowning. She quickly calls for the doctor who
believe it or not is still at home a mile from the hospital.
As our nurse preps the room, I can no longer
contain myself. My husband encourages me to breathe deeply
and slowly. All I want to do is pant, yet try my hardest to
remain in control and relaxed. At this point the urge to push
becomes to strong. I take it upon myself to begin pushing
without the knowledge of my husband or nurse. I hear the anxiousness
in our nurse’s voice. She instructs me not to push,
but by this point I really don’t care who deliver’s
this baby… doctor or no doctor. I am no longer able
to keep my eyes open. I am to busy focusing on pushing. I
hear the doctor enter the room. She try’s to initiate
conversation with me; however I ignore everyone in the room.
“The head is out.” I hear her say. “Wow!”
I thought I am doing this! I still cannot speak. I feel what
is like a thick mass passing though the birth canal. “The
shoulders and back are out. One more push and we’ll
have this baby.” Dr. Serrano says. With one more push
I feel the skinny legs pass through. “We have a baby
girl!” She announces. Although exhausted, I feel a rush
of adrenaline run through my body. I open my eyes and see
the doctor handing me my baby. I am so amazed that I did it
and that it’s over.
After the delivery, we are given a few minutes
to bond with Addison before she is weighed and measured. As
we lay there skin to skin, she latches on to my breast immediately
and looks up at me with those big blue eyes. I am still in
amazement that she is here weighing in at 8lbs 5oz and 19
¾’’ long and that although it definitely
wasn’t easy, it was manageable and knowing what stage
of labor I was in really helped keep me motivated and focused.
Later my husband asks our nurse… “So
how many women do you see who deliver natural?” “Your
wife.” She replies. “We have about ½ of
woman who come in here with natural childbirth as their goal,
however most all of them end up changing their minds and receive
drugs.” It is true that word of a woman who delivers’
natural travels fast because as I am admitted into the mom/baby
unit they congratulate me on a job well done.
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