On Sunday, August 19th, I had a little bit of what I thought was bloody show in the morning. I had some more in the late afternoon and told Steve I was pretty sure this was the beginning of the beginning. (I also had some mild cramps that evening.) He decided to call in to work the next day, just sure that we would be headed to the hospital at any minute! In reality, I think it was good that he called in and was able to get a good night's rest and take it easy the next day.
Around 4:30am on Monday (the 20th) I was having some cramps. When I got up for the day around 9am and used the bathroom I noticed that I was losing my mucous plug (this was actually kind of a long process over several trips to the bathroom). I was sure enough that that's what it was that I told Steve and texted my mom (who had returned from an out of state trip just the night before) and my best friend. Around noon I had what I thought to be my first contraction. I had a few more over the course of the afternoon but they were incredibly spread out and didn't cause me to really stop what I was doing because they weren't very strong. The whole day I felt like I was just waiting (well, I was!). I just kind of puttered around.
Finally in the evening the contractions started to become a little more "regular" but were still about 30-40 minutes apart. I told Steve, "This is ridiculous, let's go for a walk." So at 9pm we headed down the street to the high school track for some walking! We walked one lap together and I had three contractions that actually made me stop walking until they passed. I told Steve I wanted to walk one more lap and he decided to wait on the bleachers while I walked. ;) I had a few more contractions during my second lap and by the time we headed home they were consistently about 10 minutes apart.
(I forgot to mention that on Sunday I had made a "labor cake" which is basically just a chocolate overload cake. It includes a devil's food cake mix, a chocolate pudding mix, sour cream and an entire bag of chocolate chips. It is delicious and begs to be accompanied by about 4 glasses of milk. I had two slices on Sunday and two more slices on Monday and I have no idea if it did really anything to help but it sure was good. Steve enjoyed it too!)
When we got home from the track I texted my mom to give her an update. She decided to try to get some sleep and told me to let her know when my contractions were about 7 or 8 minutes apart. I told her I was going to finish packing our bags, take a shower and try to get some rest too.
I did mostly finish packing our bags and I did take a shower. But then I had a couple of much more intense contractions that I wasn't able to talk through and I texted my mom back and asked her if she would like to "go to bed" in our spare bedroom, just in case. ;) She agreed. This was around 11:30pm.
I texted a couple of people to let them know that this was it! I sent an e-mail to my cousin Stacy at work so she would see it first thing in the morning. I specifically did not post anything on Facebook, but Steve did. ;) Luckily it was vague enough that it was ok.
Jordan was extremely excited by this point and was being pretty funny. Steve got out of the shower and Jordan followed him into the other bathroom as he got ready to go. Jordan said to him, "Congratulations, you get to meet your daughter today!" I was in our bedroom, sitting on a yoga ball and breathing through contractions. Jordan came in, plopped down on the bed and said, "So!" That was it, just "so." ;) He was too excited to come up with anything else.
My mom arrived around midnight and Jordan let her in. They both joined me in the bedroom while Steve finished throwing things together and talking with Penny (a family friend), who had come to stay with Jordan. My mom tried applying pressure to my back during contractions but it didn't really help. She and Jordan were chatting and Jordan started a sentence with, "My dad said --" and I cut him off with "-- that you shouldn't talk during contractions." Luckily he thought that was funny and not harsh and stayed quiet through the next couple of contractions before going out to check on the rest of the house.
By this time the contractions were an average of 6ish minutes apart and my mom was trying to hurry Steve along so we could get out the door. They put a garbage bag and towel on my seat of the car, just in case. We said our goodbyes and headed out the door. Leaving the house at 1am felt weird but I had always kind of envisioned a middle-of-the-night labor.
There was absolutely no traffic on I-5 as we headed to Salem and we made great time. I did hate having contractions in the car and this was not helped by the fact that my car had quit running the week before and we were stuck in Steve's, which is much smaller. But I did enjoy the conversation on the way to the hospital. Everything felt pretty relaxed.
We arrived at the hospital at about 1:30am and Steve dropped my mom and I off at the ER entrance and went to park the car. Ironically the only other two patients we saw were pregnant women. ;)
When I checked in the woman at the desk asked me if I had any allergies. I said yes, Penicillin. She continued checking me in and a couple of minutes later she said, "so no allergies?" I told her Penicillin. Finally at the end of the check-in process she directed us where to go and I asked her (rather irritated) "Do I NEED an allergy band for Penicillin?" She replied, "Oh, I thought you said no allergies." Sheesh, lady.
The lady at the second window (insurance/billing/blah blah blah) was nice but a little clueless about asking a pregnant woman questions during contractions. Luckily by this point I was sitting in a wheelchair and Steve jumped in and answered questions for me.
Finally a man came to get us and take us to the labor and delivery unit. There were so many turns and elevators and hallways that I'm sure I would have been totally lost (and Steve decided not to brave going back to the car for our stuff until the doors of our building unlocked later that morning). I did compliment the man on his nice driving. He was so slow going over bumps and he told me that it only took one woman to tell him before he learned how to operate a wheelchair with a laboring woman in it. ;)
We finally arrived at a room where they were going to check me to determine my progress. The nurse had me put on a gown and give a urine sample and lay down on a table. She explained that she would check me, then monitor me for an hour and then check me again. The nurse was very nice and asked how far apart my contractions were. My mom had been timing them since we got in the car and said that the last few had been 3-4 minutes apart, which I had not realized. The nurse told me that I was at 5cm and seemed surprised to tell me that I was also 95% effaced. I was actually in tears at this point because the exam was so uncomfortable but I remember thinking to myself, "Good job, body!" I was really pleased and encouraged that I was already at 5cm.
The nurse then asked if I had thought about my preferences on pain control. I was sobbing by this point, even though the exam was over. I think it was a combination of the pain (I had to lay flat on my back for the exam, which was excruciating, and caused the contractions to move to my back, and then they stayed there) and some nervousness and fear. I also had the shakes and was just having trouble calming myself down. I felt well prepared but I was still nervous because it was all a big unknown. Steve answered the nurse for me and told her that I had really been wanting to deliver naturally but that I was not 100% opposed to the idea of an epidural. She asked if I thought I would want an epidural and I nodded my head, which I think was a huge relief to Steve. She told me that since I was already so far progressed that they weren't going to bother monitoring me for an hour and had called the doctor to come and see me. Dr. Samawi was the doctor on call and was one of only two doctors we hadn't met during prenatal visits. I LOVED him. I think I may have asked him if he was sure he didn't want to stay on for one more shift. ;) Part of this was because I knew who was on the next shift and it was the ONE doctor I absolutely did NOT want to have. I had mentioned before that there was only one day that Peyton couldn't be born... And of course that day was August 21st! When I asked the nurse and Dr. Samawi who was coming on at shift change (just to be sure) and they told me, I didn't hide my disappointment and frustration. They both cringed and said "sorry". So far everybody's opinion of that doctor has been the same, unfortunately.
Anyway, Dr. Samawi came in and introduced himself and verified my desire for an epidural. They had the anesthesiologist paged and then we headed to a labor room.
The labor rooms at Salem hospital are huge. I immediately asked for a birth ball because I was hoping to relieve some of the awful back labor. I sat on the ball and rocked and swayed while the nurse (a new one, who I also loved) asked me questions and had me sign a couple of consent forms. My mom tried applying pressure to my back again but it was of very little help. The nurse got IVs started in my left arm so that I could start getting the necessary fluids before the epidural.
At about 3am the anesthesiologist came in and asked me some questions and explained the epidural procedure. I hate listening to procedure explanations. Actually, I ended up hating the entire epidural. I was glad for the pain relief but I HATED the way I felt trapped in my own body because I could not move my legs or feel myself do kegels or anything. It took two people and the sheets on the bed to turn me from side to side, with me pulling my upper body using the rails on the bed. Not a fan!
Anyway, the epidural was placed, a catheter was placed, I was checked and was about 7.5cm. Again, I was really happy with that number. (I think that horrible doctor was the one who checked me and I was just mad at her from the get-go. She has lousy bedside manner and would just breeze in and breeze out of the room, barking directions sometimes and other times not saying anything.)
Steve and my mom were exhausted by this point and both tried to lay down to rest. Steve managed a mini nap on the "couch" and my mom laid her head on my bed and closed her eyes. I have no idea if she got any sleep. ;) The epidural was strong enough that I had a period of time where I didn't feel any contractions and I remember asking if they had slowed down. The nurse told me that I just wasn't feeling them and that was strange to me.
I had been sipping water and apple juice throughout the night but (just as I feared) I started to get really hungry as time went on and I asked for some chicken broth. Two cups of that was enough to take the edge off, thankfully.
At 7am I was checked again and I was at 9cm! I called my grandma, whose birthday was that day, and told her happy birthday and that I thought we would give her a great granddaughter as a gift. :) She was BESIDE HERSELF and squealed and cried. I promised her that we would call her as soon as we had news.
Our nurse told me there was an EMT student on the floor that day and asked if I minded if he observed the birth. I'm pretty open to students because hey, they have to learn on somebody! And since this guy was just observing, I didn't mind at all. He came in and introduced himself as Eric and was very nice. My mom asked if he had been to any other births and he said he'd been in a c-section earlier that morning but this was otherwise his first.
At this point (maybe around 7:15am) I decided to try to get a little rest before the big event. I was successful for a little while and had juuuust started to actually fall asleep when Dr. Annoying burst in, checked me and announced that I was complete and it was time to start pushing. Literally, I was jolted awake and within a few minutes the doctor had broken my water (nothing happened, no gush) and I was pushing. This was at 8:10am.
At some point early in the morning there had been a shift change and a nurse named Katie came on. If I ever deliver at Salem Hospital again, I want her. She was INCREDIBLE.
The idea of pushing was a little foreign to me, and at this point I was mostly unable to tell when a contraction was beginning or ending. Since I had a monitor on, others were able to tell by looking at the screen and they had to coach me along, telling me when a contraction started so I would know when to push. Somebody (the doctor, I think) explained that as the contraction built in intensity, I should take a deep breath, sit forward a little (I was almost laying all the way down), tuck my chin to my chest and push for the count of 10. Then sit back, take another deep breath and immediately do it again for a total of three or four pushes during each contraction. They asked if I wanted someone to count to 10 and I said yes. Steve made that his job and he was darn good at it. The doctor stayed in the room for a short time to make sure I was pushing "correctly" and that everything was fine, and then she breezed out the door again.
Early on in the pushing I was having trouble because I had terrible acid reflux. I had had it for the last few months of my pregnancy too and it sure is a pain. I was frustrated because as I was holding my breath to push the reflux would cause me to loose that breath because of burning in my throat. I finally told the nurse that I needed something for it and the doctor ordered this NASTY grape flavored syrup that was probably just as bad as the reflux. Katie told me to take it like a shot... Unfortunately, I can't take shots. Lol. I chugged it as fast as I could and then downed a bunch of apple juice, which only sort of helped. But the reflux went away!
After every set of pushes I asked for a drink of either water or apple juice because my mouth felt super dry. This helped me stay hydrated through the delivery.
The EMT student was supposed to be there to "observe" but the poor guy ended up being right in the midst of everything, giving me drinks after contractions and even holding one of my legs (which had to be done because I could not even wiggle my toes, much less pick up my legs and hold them). He was awesome.
After about two hours of pushing the doctor breezed in, checked me, basically scolded my progress and told the nurses that they needed to "flip flop" me. This meant that they turned me on my side and I pushed through two or three contractions and then they turned me on my other side and I did the same. We did this twice for each side. Pushing on my side was very strange for me. I found it hard to focus my pushes anywhere, it felt so different. But I did feel that there was improvement in bringing the baby down. I was seriously wishing that I didn't have the epidural so I could have used lots of different positions.
After the flip flopping I was turned on my back again. I kept asking Steve and my mom if they could see the baby's head and they said yes, when I pushed they could see her head. I was getting a little frustrated that progress wasn't being made faster. When I first started pushing my sister had gone and picked up Jordan and they came to the hospital. I knew they were just sitting in the waiting room. I also knew that other people were waiting very anxiously to hear news and I just wanted her to be born! I spent almost the entire delivery process with my eyes closed but I felt fairly aware of everything going on around me.
Jordan had been up half the night with excitement and fell asleep in the waiting room. He told Kendra later that he had a dream that he was falling. I wonder why...
At about 10:30 (after 2 1/2 hours of pushing) the doctor said that if we didn't make some quick progress, we would need to talk about a c-section. I believe my response to her was, "Yeah, we are not doing that!" Steve quickly agreed with me. I knew that the baby was not in danger (other than the stress of being in the birth canal for so long - her heart rate was fine) and that the only reason for a c-section was because of how long I had been pushing.
At this point the doctor really got to business and was talking very sternly, telling me that I was not to make any noise during pushes, to focus ALL of my strength on pushing. She was really ticking me off with her tone and bossiness and Steve told me later that he thinks she finally made me so mad that I pushed the baby out! Maybe he's right. He was SO incredible through my entire labor and delivery. He kept encouraging me, giving me drinks, holding my legs and encouraging me some more. He made a wonderful birth partner. (I remember saying at one point, "This baby is going to be born knowing how to count to ten!")
My mom texted a couple of people (Stacy and my dad, I'm not sure who else) and said that there had been mention of a c-section and to pray for a prompt delivery.
The doctor told me that she needed my permission to do an episiotomy if needed. I think I shook my head or something because she got really stern and made me open my eyes and look at her and told me that she HAD to have my consent to do an episiotomy if necessary. She did add that she would try not to do one and I said ok.
I continued pushing and finally felt like something was happening, that we were getting somewhere. I didn't experience the "ring of fire" but I could feel when she crowned and her head was born. I immediately pushed again to deliver the rest of her.
At 11:35am Peyton Rhea Hanold was born!
She was placed directly on my stomach, only because the cord was too short to reach my chest. She was wide-eyed right away and it felt like it took a long time for her to cry but I'm sure it was only about 10 seconds. Once they rubbed her a bit she started to cry right away.
Steve told me later that it did not seem like I pushed for 3 1/2 hours, it seemed much shorter. I agree. I asked if she was born with a gush (since nothing happened when they broke my water) and he couldn't remember. Her Apgars were 9 and 9!
I think everyone was crying when she was finally born. The delivery room was a busy place with everybody doing their part. The doctor told me that she hadn't done an episiotomy but that I tore pretty badly (3rd degree) and she needed to stitch me up. She started on that and Katie (or someone) took Peyton to be dried off and checked out. We didn't have them give her eye ointment so I'm not totally sure what all they did but I remember saying, "I wasn't done with her" and really wanting her back. :)
When they finally brought her back to me I asked Katie to help me unsnap my gown so we could have some skin to skin time.
Looking back, the rest of the afternoon was sort of a blur and I can't remember the order in which things happened but I do know that the doctor stitched me up before she delivered the placenta. When it was time to deliver the placenta she had her whole hand inside me and was pulling and tugging and I had no idea what was going on and yelled, "What are you doing?!?" She said, "We have to get your placenta out." That process was SO painful, even with the epidural and I cried and squeezed the crap out of Steve's hands. He actually had to remind me of all of this later... The only thing I remembered was yelling at the doctor.
Finally when that torture was over I asked to have the epidural removed. Two nurses tried but were concerned about something not being as easy as usual so they called for an anesthesiologist. He removed it with no problem. After the epidural wore off I was SO THANKFUL to be able to feel my legs again! The other stuff wasn't so great to feel. I was soooo swollen and sore. Around this time I also threw up the entire contents of my stomach, which was all liquid. Unfortunately I had JUST taken a pain pill and because the nurse didn't see it come back up, she couldn't give me a second dose for 4 hours. Misery!
One nurse had saved the placenta before wrapping it up because I had expressed interest in seeing it. She took a minute to bring it over and show Steve and I both sides and the bag of waters, which I found fascinating.
The nurses had told me there was no big hurry in weighing and measuring the baby so it was probably a good hour after she was born that they finally did. She was 7lb 14oz and 19 1/4 inches long. I can't remember her head circumference, darnit.
Getting to know Daddy
I think around this time was when I tried nursing for the first time. Peyton knew what to do and spent just a couple of minutes sucking off and on.
Finally Jordan was able to come see his baby sister! He had been in the waiting room with my sister forever and he was so patient. I could see the excitement on his face when he finally got to come in and hold her. :) He cooed to her, "I'm your big brother!" When my sister told him, "Well, you're stuck with her now" he replied, "Til death do us part!"
Peyton had "brought" Jordan a gift and he opened a new movie and a Lego set, which he happily assembled on the floor when he was done holding the baby. Steve and my sister and parents took turns holding the baby and I ordered something to EAT!
A while later my nurse told me that I needed to get up and try to use the bathroom because that was a "prerequisite" for being transferred upstairs. I felt like it took me 10 minutes just to get out of bed and shuffle the 4 feet to the bathroom because I had to do everything so slowly and gingerly. I sat in that bathroom and tried and tried and tried to pee... but couldn't. I was getting so frustrated because Katie told me if I couldn't go they would have to catheterize me and I reeeeally didn't want that. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't even figure out which muscles to use to pee. (Epidurals suck.)
So, back to bed I went and sent Jordan and my dad off to explore while Katie tried to straight cath me.
Tried.
I was SCREAMING in pain because first of all, catheters are inhumane. Nothing should go there. And second, topical numbing gel does nothing in that situation. I was sobbing, trying to stay still and gripping Steve's and my mom's hands so hard that they probably lost feeling. My sister held Peyton and I texted her later to apologize for the trauma. It was awful. Steve and my mom were both in tears and Katie was almost in tears too. She finally called another nurse who said they would insert a Foley and leave it in until the next morning so I wouldn't have to go through this again. After several more excruciating minutes and a complete repeat of the first round of tears and screaming, they emptied over a liter from my bladder.
By this point I was totally exhausted, but they needed to get me moved upstairs (a nurse had even come to do Peyton's assessment in the L&D room because we weren't going to make it upstairs in time for their rounds). Getting out of bed and into that wheelchair was awful. I basically couldn't sit down completely and hated every second of that ride upstairs.
Once we were in our recovery room Katie said goodbye and I was in tears again, trying to thank her for being so incredibly wonderful to us. She told me that she felt so bad for me and that I did amazing but we assured her that she had also been amazing. I could have hugged that girl. She was an angel.
Our recovery nurse was sweet but for some reason I was glad she was only on shift for a few more hours. She kind of bugged me. Though she did tell me that the hospital's best kept secret was their banana bread and she was right. (Actually, all of the food I ordered was delicious, thankfully!)
I asked to see a lactation consultant and was told that someone could see me the next day. I was frustrated by that because I felt like Peyton was having some trouble latching. She would latch, suck a few times, then pull away and cry. (When I did see someone the next day she gave me a nipple shield which did help and we ended up using it for 4 weeks. She also had me start pumping and I was able to start getting colostrum which we gave Peyton in a syringe after each nursing attempt.)
Milk coma
Napping with Daddy
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