something amazing happened

It was in fact, a very small number.
My heart sank.

Time stood still for just a minute as we three gasped inside and took it in.

Then, Kir kicked right back into doula mode, talking me down from the ledge. I knew this look well. I'd seen it a few times before, heck, I'd even photographed it.

But, I wasn't ready. I stopped her mid sentence.
I was allowed to mourn this for a moment, just a moment. After all, everything that we saw, felt, and had done today was so contrary to that stupid, teeny, tiny number.
I felt confused, sad, exhausted, beaten down, and scared.

There. I had my moment.
More contractions came. Darren and Kirsten continued the much needed and helper hip squeezes. As excruiciating as they were, I still remained relaxed as I desired, blowing long breaths of air of my mouth during each one.

Right after he told us the number, Dr. H mentioned breaking my water as an option to hopefully kick things into gear. But, I knew that would mean an internal monitor, and I wasn't ready for that just yet. That was on our list of things to avoid if at all possible.

But, really, that was a moot point at this stage. I mean, I was laboring IN the bed. And frankly, holding the monitor on my belly was becoming a VERY LARGE pain (hmmm, pain may not be the right word here, in lieu of some horrific pain that I was in). Kir tried to hold the monitor on my belly. I tried to hold it on my belly. We tried to jam it into my belly. But, during nearly every contraction, we lost the heart beat on that stupid thing. The nurses rushed in so many times to confirm, and force that monitor on my slightly sensitive (hello!) belly until they found that little guy. It hurt. And, I didn't need any more of that.

5:45pm - We were ready to talk with Dr. Harris about breaking my water. Was a VERY clear choice. Everything else looked so great, but only little dilation. Perhaps, my body just needed that extra push (or prick, as the case may be). And now, ironically, the idea of the internal monitor actually sounded like a huge relief.

Within 10 minutes of talking, asking questions, and contractions, we agreed to break my water.

But, before we broke my water, they began working on my IV, antibiotics for Group B Strep.

Also, somewhere in here Darren got the iPod going with my Early Labor music mix.

6:30pm - While they worked to get my IV in, "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'" began playing. Darren and Kirsten looked at each other and smiled hopeful grins, and I'd like to think they nodded a mutual appreciation for my music taste. ; )

We were hopeful something was really about to kick in...or should I say, kick out...

6:40pm - Dr. Harris comes in ready to break my water, and instead, gets his groove on a little. In response to Michael Jackson, 3rd Day, and then Stevie Wonder, he says, "this is the most original labor music I've ever heard." Oh, and he liked it, alright. ; ) No water breaking, though, because although I have among the biggest, most beautiful veins (seriously, I am a phlebotomist's dream), they were unable to get that IV in. Once or twice the 'sticker', as I'll not as kindly refer to them now, said, "oooh, sorry, that one is going to bruise pretty good", and STILL didn't have the darn thing in.

6:55pm - Finally got that $#%^* IV in.
Somewhere in here, Angela arrives to photograph the birth. She had called earlier anxiously wanting to come up (to be with me and to not miss it, of course). But, I wasn't ready for her. Funny, that being a birth photographer (can I call myself that since I absolutely love it and have photographed 4 births?), you'd think I wanted her there right away. But, I didn't.

It wasn't because of her at all. It was because of MY plan. I knew that mentally, I needed to only have Darren and Kirsten there until we got closer (in dilation, that is). I knew that I would be distracted about the pictures, angles, how I looked, whether the lighting was good or not (you're figuring out I think too much, right?), and just stuff that I shouldn't be when my goal was to remain focused and relaxed. So, I didn't let her come in just yet. I felt really bad that she was sitting just outside the door, but this was my birth and I had to stay with my goals. I think Kirsten felt bad for her too. But, honestly, I think she was just glad to be there. Isn't that a great friend for you?

7:15pm – An hour and 20 minutes after we decided to break my water, it was finally broken. The good news was that my water was broken and hopefully that would get some major dilation going. The bad news - Dr H checked me just before breaking it, and I was STILL a blasted 2cm. Maybe that doesn’t seem like a big deal, as we’d already decided to break my water, but IT WAS A BIG DEAL. It had been 2 hours and 20 minutes since the last check and these contractions had been ever stronger. I expected SOME kind of change, even if just a little. Again, I mourned a moment, but this time we already had a next step in place. Again Kirsten and Dr H were reassuring with their words, but their eyes told me they were a bit miffed themselves.

I asked Dr H, WHY, OH WHY, was there no progression. Everything seemed so far along. I seriously believed I was contracting at about a 7+ right now, and I believed Kir and Dr H felt so too. Ultimately, nobody knew, but one - the very One that had so graciously put this precious baby in here to begin with. I wanted answers. Mentally, I needed some answers. But, I wasn’t going to get any. There was desperation in my questions to him, and this point began a whole other level of pain and exhaustion. Mentally, I was fading, fading fast. I needed a bone, people, throw me some kind of bone.

Darren had been incredibly encouraging this whole time. He was so supportive, and honestly was a great labor partner and helper. You see, for him, it was excruciating to watch someone he loved so much be in so much pain. It hurt him to witness this, and I knew it. I’m sure there was a big part of him that wanted it to be over for both of us. But, he knew our plan and stayed right with it. He was feeling this right along with me in a way. Through his encouraging words, “You’re doing so great.”, that I heard over and over, I also felt how very proud he was of me. He saw a woman be strong and tough…really strong and really tough. This was the very same woman that expresses nearly every emotion and ache and pain she ever feels. And yet, here she was suffering and strong, quiet and focused, all the while scared, really scared. I believe he grew in his appreciation, respect, and love for me during this, and that is worth it alone.

I know I've talked about being relaxed during the contractions. Well, not only did the nurses comment on how they've never seen anyone so relaxed (let me clarify that was physically), my blood pressure confirmed it as well. It was low...they began to watch me closely.

7:25pm - I threw up. I had just told them I felt like I might and then I was pretty sure I would and then...Darren just barely got the bed pan to my mouth in time. But, there was some splashing and poor aim, and Darren got a little on his hand. A contraction hit and I didn't give a rats about the puke. I wanted those hands around my hips doing their job pronto. Darren was frozen for a second looking at his hand and my back and I blurted, "just use your puke hand!" He did. Whew.

I was so weary. My body felt beat up and worn out, and my eyes shown desperation and weariness. I was just barely staying over the top of each contraction, no longer able to do long breaths, but shorter, quicker ones. I was so scared. Every now and then the fear took over and my breathing became erratic. Kirsten breathed deeply and groaned soft low sounds to remind me what to do. It always helped.

These groans were L-O-W. I knew what that meant. At least, I knew what that meant for those 4 other ladies I photographed. It was getting close. But, I also was getting close, close, close to losing it. I had tried not to think about the numbers in terms of how much farther I still had to go before now. But, now the culmination of the day's events, the level of the contractions, the lack of progression, the exhaustion, pain, fear, blood pressure, and now what seemed insurmountable left to go...

8:15pm I barely hung in there another 45 minutes or so. Then, I looked Kir straight in the eye and told her I WAS DONE. She was ready with her talk. But, I was serious. I didn't feel sad or defeated or like a loser. I just felt that my body couldn't do this anymore. It was about to become INSANE. Seems funny to say, but I KNEW it was. I don't mean insane as just a word to describe pain. I really mean INSANE, unable to control yourself, out of your mind, near death, plus horrific pain. I am guessing what I felt was like going into the transition stage feels. But, I was only a 2.

I told Kirsten I was done. I told her that I was proud of how well I managed the pain and stayed relaxed. That was my most important goal. I told her I would not have any regrets. I felt 100% sure of that. She tried to talk me off the ledge. But, I wasn't negotiating...I was informing. I told her I was done and ready to get this baby out...I was ready for my c-section.

Uh, wait a sec...She reminded me that an epi was the next step.
Isn't that funny? In my mind somehow, I had lumped unmedicated and vaginal in the same category, so that if I got an epi, then that meant a c-section as well.

8:30pm - Finally that internal monitor got in. What a relief, honestly. And, I got checked...4cm.

It was progress, indeed. But, not enough for me to change my mind. I still had 6cm to go and I was in a crazy place. Epi requested.

8:45pm - Epi went in much easier than that IV. Go figure.

9:15pm - And then, just 30 minutes later, something amazing happened. A resident doctor came in and checked me. 7-8cm, +1 station!
Oh, we were elated!
Kirsten had that look in her eye, like "See, if you'd just waited a little bit longer, you were soooo close." She didn't say it though, but I told her I knew what she was thinking. And, I told her that I still had no regrets. I meant it.

Then, the room got crazy for another reason. The staff came in and began prepping the room for the delivery. It wasn't until I saw them readying the warming bin that I realized I could actually have this baby vaginally. I know that I'd had that conversation with Kirsten earlier, but honestly, I didn't remember that. It didn't sink in. I'm not sure why I linked the epi with a c-section, but until now, I had.

Forget that, this was surreal. I was giddy with this baby coming, coming out soon, and coming the way God designed. I was going to get to push and and witness this miracle baby enter the world. I could not wait to meet him. So incredibly blessed and grateful. I felt so much joy and couldn't wait for something even more amazing to happen...