Friday, October 12, I woke up feeling a little stranger than
the day before. Since I’d been having
frequent, painful contractions for weeks, I didn’t think much of it. Got the kids’ lunches made and got them on
the bus. Eric went to work. I was feeling funny, so I laid back
down. A few minutes later, a rather
large contraction hit, so I decided to start timing them. They were frequent and stronger than I’d had
them before, so I thought maybe we should head up to my mom’s to be closer to
the hospital. We took our time packing
up and heading out. On the way up, my
contractions got even stronger. Eric
suggested I call my OB and see what to do, so I did. They asked me to come into the office for a
quick check. Herein lies a series of
events that led, ultimately, to the most wonderful thing I’ve ever done.
We got to the OB’s office, and the nurse checked me. She said she couldn’t tell if I was really,
really dilated or not dilated at all since the baby’s head was so low. She said she was going to have the nurse
practioner come in to do the check. The
NP came in to check, and her eyes got really wide. She called it 8 cm dilated with a +2 station. Basically, baby is gonna fall out! They rushed me into a wheelchair and through
the halls over to the hospital. My mom
and doula thought they weren’t gonna make it.
They were prepping the delivery room like crazy when I got there, and a
resident who was in attendance came in to catch the baby. My contractions were still crazy strong, but
I seemed calm, so she checked me again.
I wasn’t dilated at all.
The NP made a mistake. She said I
was the same 1.5 cm I’d been for the last few weeks of contractions. Uh...ok.
Huge disappointment. I thought I
was about to have a baby! She said my
water was broken, however, so I needed to stay.
That was 11 a.m. on October 12.
No tests for amniotic fluid were done since I was bleeding as well, and
that would mess with the test. At least
my mom and doula had time to get there.
They had all the time in the world, it turned out, because when I was
checked 12 hours later at 11 p.m. I had
only dilated to 5-6 cm, and that’s where I stayed. Pitocin was started. I labored unmedicated for 29 hours total, so
29 hours of concentrating really hard at staring at the wall or ceiling and
breathing and trying not to scream. My
mom, Eric and Tonya taking turns rubbing my feet, head, back and shoulders for
hours. Taking shuffling walks, sitting
on the ball and the toilet, getting on hands and knees, swaying and rocking
through the most painful experience of my life.
At hour 29, I was checked again.
Still 5-6 cm. No
progression. In fact, my cervix had
swollen, and my effacement had thickened back up a bit.
I broke. I could push
through the pain. I couldn’t push
through the emotions anymore. I asked
for the epidural. I could no longer
relax knowing that for 29 hours I had just done absolutely nothing, even with
Pitocin. I was doomed to lie flat on my
back, not feeling my legs, for the rest of the labor. The epidural was placed, and another crazy
labor event happened. My BP and Paige’s
heart rate dropped to dangerous levels.
Suddenly, AWKWARD! My nurse, Maggie,
who has been an L&D nurse for over 30 years, started arguing with the
resident, a meek doctor all of about 27 or 28 years old. He wanted my Pitocin shut off. She did not.
He was all, “Last I checked *I* was the doctor here!” And she was all, “Don’t you dare touch my
machine again!” “I DIDN’T! Another nurse did!” He’d had another nurse turn it off when Maggie
wasn’t looking. Yeah. We didn’t see that resident again. Also, Maggie called for a check. Dr. Bolin checked and...broke my water. Which was never broken at all. *sigh*
Once my epidural was in and we were stable, however, I was able to relax
and joke and talk with my family again.
For ten hours we labored like that, mostly with me on my left side. They rolled me to my right, and Paige’s heart
rate dropped again. Dangerously. For a long time. Enough to freak out the on-call
physician. After a position change, she
stabilized, but we had to start talking C-section. Paige was in a dangerous position.
We let it go for another 2 hours before it was called. I was STILL only 5-6 cm after 39 hours of
labor. It was time. Time for the weirdest C-section in the
history of C-sections. First, I was
scared to death. I’ve never had surgery
before. So, I was making all kinds of
stupid jokes. The anesthesiologist told
me I’m hilarious. Thanks. I’ll be here all week. Literally.
So, he pushed the meds and they started the draping
and...OOOOOOOWWWW!!!!! Uh...I wasn’t
supposed to feel that. The anesthesia
didn’t take. They had misplaced the
drape and ripped it off (really hard, dudes.
I have a sore.) I felt it. She pinched me. I felt that, too. OOPS!
My spinal catheter had fallen out.
Time for a new one.
Six new ones. I now
have a lot of holes in my back. Eric had
to root around in drawers to find a new kit.
Ready-made surgical assistant!
So, they finally get it going to where I can’t feel a dang thing. The anesthesiologist takes a call ordering a
pizza in the middle of surgery. Then,
suddenly, I hear, “Step back! Step back! SOMEBODY CATCH HER!” Yeah.
Med student was helping to stitch me up and nearly fainted into my open
body cavity. Luckily she fainted
backward. She had to be taken care of
before my surgery was completed. It
lasted twice as long as it should have.
Freaked out my family for sure, wondering where I was for this short,
“routine” surgery. Paige was stuck in my
sacrum. She was never going to progress.
In the end, though, we got Paige London Kachelmeyer, at
10:19 p.m. on October 13, 2012, weighing 8 lbs 8 oz and 22 inches long. Super long.
Like her daddy.
