In my initial Preparing for Childbirth post, I left off with:
“I felt a gush of fluid. I was so excited, it was finally happening! I turned on the light thinking that my water had broken. I placed my hand on my leg, in the wet spot, only to pull it up and see that it was covered in blood…” So I’ll be picking it up from there.
I was terrified. At 9 months pregnant, with a broken ankle, and a week and half passed my due date, I knew that I wasn’t in the best of situations, but at the same time, I knew that freaking out would only make things worse. I immediately controlled my heart rate and called out for my mom, who was staying with me to help out when the baby came. Normally, my mom sleeps like a rock and only the hand of God can wake her up, but not that night. She came knocking on my door soon after I called for her. She freaked out!
We hurried to the car as fast as we could. I was on hold with the obstetricians office while they tried to get ahold of the doctor. They eventually told me they would call me back. My mom was driving about 10 miles under the speed limit the whole way (despite my frequent request that she drive faster) and not following the directions being given by the GPS. Meanwhile, I’m calling everyone to tell them I was heading to the hospital. My aunt in PA was the only one that answered her phone. She immediately jumped into her car and began driving in my direction.
Just as we hit DC, we ran into one of their infamous night-time road blocks and the OB called back and told me to come into the hospital, I’m thinking, “Thanks for the obvious advice 40 minutes after the emergency.” While DC may have one of the easiest road configurations, I had no idea how to get to the hospital in a different way than the GPS said. So we sat in the middle of the blocked road as I tried to find a different way.
Next thing you know there’s a police officer tapping at my window. You can imagine what was on my mind at that point. We explain the situation, to include the fact that we’re in an emergency and don’t know how to get to the hospital another way and her response is, “You need to move your car now. All of these roads are blocked so you can only go that way.”
About an hour after leaving, I wobbled myself to the waiting wheel chair and was taken to the maternity ward. They told me that I was in labor and my contractions were 3 minutes apart, “Can’t you feel them?” “Nope.”
The baby wasn’t in distress and I was 1 centimeter dilated. Their best guess was that my placenta was separating from the uterine wall and that was causing the bleeding. I was to be checked in until I gave birth, meaning no more eating for me. They soon started me on Pitocin, bringing my contractions down to 1 minute apart, contractions that I still couldn’t feel.
About 2 hours later, my Aunt arrived at hospital and made sure that I knew that I looked like crap and should have taken the time to look presentable before coming to the hospital. She also swore a vow, she wouldn’t eat until I could eat. 10 hours into her vow she found out that Girl Scout cookies were being sold outside by the metro. She went to get them, but wouldn’t eat any until we could both eat them. My mom meanwhile, sat in my room eating food right in front of me.
I closed my eyes trying to fall asleep because due to the excitement, I only had about 2 hours of sleep since the previous day. Suddenly I caught the sweet scent of chocolate, caramel, and coconut. “Did you open the Samoa’s!!??” I turned to see my aunt with a huge grin on her face, a cookie in her hand, and guilty eyes. “I thought you were asleep.” “I thought you were on a hunger strike!” We laughed and she put the cookie back into the box.
My doula showed up at some point. Because my contractions were so close and my assigned doula wasn’t available, the head doula showed up, Carolyn Alexander. She was the best! Unfortunately, even her skills couldn’t speed up this process.
By 3am of the second day I could finally feel contractions, they didn’t hurt much, but my body was tired. I had not slept in almost 2 days, I hadn’t eaten for over 24 hours, and the same muscles had been contracting every minute for a full day. I told the nurse that I didn’t think that I could push even if the baby was ready to come because I was so tired. They checked, I was only 3 centimeters dilated after more than 24 hours.
At most other hospitals, this is the point where everyone starts recommending new solutions, usually a C-section. I was recommended to get an epidural. I was told that my muscles were too tight and weren’t relaxing to allow the labor to progress. I agreed. My placenta was still separating and the longer that I was in labor the more dangerous it became for my baby…
