C.F.'s birth story

Carl Fritz Wenger was due on Christmas Eve (which gave the Martin family an excuse to celebrate Christmas on the 23rd yippee!).  For a few weeks I would have mild cramps in the morning and Braxton Hicks through out the day but nothing measurable.  I was having pre-postpartum depression, with anxiety, no affection for him, no affection for Freddy, scared I was ruining my life, ruining Freddy's life, omg Carl Fritz doesn't deserve this hard heart from his mother, etc.

On Christmas Eve I was  3cm, 50% but that's what I was for a month before Freddy was born.  So we went on a long walk (I hadn't exercised in over a month.  v. painful hips this pregnancy).

I went to bed on Christmas no longer able to conceive of him actually coming.  Cramps woke me up multiple times and I thought labor was probably beginning but I was able to sleep most of the night until 4am.  At which time I leapt out of bed with a very bad contraction (the literature sometimes refers to contractions as "sensations."  That is just hilarious, as if they are a neutral and mildly interesting feeling).  The contractions were 18, 16, 14, 12 minutes apart.  I washed the front part of my hair in the sink b/c MK had straightened it for me and I wanted to look so good in the hospital.  Woke up Jarebear at 5am.  He was quite grumpy, trying to downplay and keep expectations low.  The contractions for the next hour were very irregular, 10 mins, 3 mins, 7 mins, 8 mins.  So I think that's why he felt free to make an egg for his delicious breakfast w/ brussels sprouts while I spent an hour on the floor (he of course tended to me during contractions).

Called my mom and the hospital around 6.  When she came over I was on all fours hissing and dropping the f-bomb all over town.  L&D said I could come in if I wanted.  I wanted.  MK thought I was in transition and was very disturbed by Jared's calm delay.  She called Tyler and said pray they don't have the baby in the car.  I wasn't worried about that but I knew it was time to go and that I needed my epidural now or there was a chance I wouldn't have time (haha).

We leave the house at 613am.

2 contractions in the car.  Jared parks, I fling open my door to get on all fours on the parking garage and there is chewed gum in my face (in OAKLAND, EWWWWW), sure I'm going to puke.  NOW Jared's worried.  "Ok I think we need to get into the hospital, get up, Jesse"

I'll get up when I'm good and ready, you.

But I make it across the street and into the hospital before going down again.  Passersby are very disturbed.  Someone gets me a wheelchair while I'm lying with my face in a trashcan, ready to puke.

Up to L&D.  And now introducing the villain of this story, the triage nurse.  We get in the door and I jump out of the chair onto all fours again (f-word freely flowing).  She is on the phone w/ someone and says "you should not be on the floor" but she doesn't come to help me and anyway heaven and earth could not move me mid-contraction.  She slowly, casually, and in prolonged fashion, gets off the phone and gets me a bed and a barf bag (I think that barf bag became my focal point.  It was a lovely blue color.  I had CF's ultrasound photo w/ me to help me visualize him moving down but no time and also I didn't care about him I was way too far gone).  I feel that no one is taking me seriously so I try to communicate w/ my screams of agony, hissing, and f-words that I am far along, somebody check me, give me an epidural or give me death!! but I think they just think i'm a big baby.  Jared tries to get me my epidural but they poopoo him and say well first she needs an IV but they don't seem to be trying very hard to get that started, do they...

They check me, I'm 7cm, 90%.  I start to retch, they say "stop pushing"
I say "idiots" (not really) "I'm not pushing"
they say "you are when you make that sound"

It's been less than five mins and I'm 8cm.  They say "blow, don't push".

***

Now, the literature addresses this:  "There may come a time when you may be asked not to push with a contraction. During this time, relax your neck, shoulders and legs and pant or blow out during the contraction. Visualize blowing out candles."


Blow out your candles?  More like blow out your innards in explosive misery.  Not pushing was the hardest thing I have ever done!!  
Seriously the literature is inadequate in this area.  Although the website quoted above does go on to say, "Your partner may need to hold your face, look directly in your eyes, and pant or blow with you to keep you from pushing. Pushing, for many mothers, is a powerful reflex that requires considerable effort to breathe through rather than to push through."  
Thank you for that admission.


***

They promptly wheel me into a delivery room, and the next terrible thing that happens is that someone takes away my barf bag?!!  Excuse me!!  I needed that to live!!
Then they give me an IV but I know it's too late.

Jared is saying, don't push don't push
they say no, it's ok, she can push.
What?!!  Where's my epidural I'm going to die

I've been on all fours on the bed but I flip over to push and feel my water break with a satisfying"pop"

After trying not to push, pushing feels almost as good as an epidural.  Ok that's not true.

Jared is laughing because he can't believe we're about to do this "natural"!!

One or two pushes, I can feel and see his head, aha! so that's the ring of fire, push, his head is out,  push and the doctor is twisting and pulling his head because his shoulders were turned a funny way and here he is screaming on me all purple with very long evil Saruman fingernails at 658am "omg" (language cleaned up) "I did it that happened way too fast to process what the heck this boy is already nursing?!!"

***

Then they gave me Fentanyl (narcotic) right afterward and I don't think I would do that again because I got so dizzy and out of it for about a half hour.  I was "more aware" (euphemism) of birthing the placenta this time, and I had one 2nd degree tear to be stitched up.

The plus side of rocket labor has been a pretty easy recovery.  As I write this on Day 6 of Carl Fritz's young life I feel pretty good.  And while I didn't feel that euphoric love when he was born (I didn't w/ Freddy either)(I'm sure the dizzying Fentanyl didn't help), I already feel more attached to and affectionate towards him and I am very thankful for that!

I feel very anxious to get back to "work" caring for Freddy in addition to Fritz.  But my work is to do the will of the one who sent me...  I mean... to rest up my bottom and nurse constantly while Jared does a better job w/ Freddy than I do (seriously, Freddy is eating grown up food and cleaning up his toys, etc, it's embarrassing!)...

In closing, all three of my boys are AMAZING, and I just hope that triage nurse learned to take me seriously since Carl Fritz came less than 30 mins after she scolded me for being on the floor.  Don't mess, lady.

(Also, WHAT is going to happen if we have another baby!)