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So in deference to Joe, I am writing my side of what happened before reading anything else.
Okay,
Monday afternoon: I see the OB, she stretches my cervix again, and schedules me for induction on Tuesday morning. I’m at 4 cm. I have contractions on and off all afternoon.
Monday early evening: after monitoring, I notice contractions coming at 6-7 minutes apart. Coolness! I call Joe and my Mom. After a bit the contractions seem to be getting a bit more intense. I run upstairs and get my DJ, which has my hypnosis exercises on it. After spending some time being uncomfy on the couch, I move upstairs to our bed. Contractions are still 6-7 apart, and still not too intense.
Monday late evening: Mom gets here at about 10. Contractions are more intense, Joe’s now free to spend his time with me. I give him the clock and tell him to start timing contractions. In between contractions he cuddles me and spends time on the computer (I’m assuming he was LJ’ing everything.). After awhile the contractions seem to be getting closer, I ask Joe and he says they are coming 4-5 minutes apart and have been for a bit. I tell him to call L&D. After answering a bunch of questions, the person on the other end tells me it’s a bit early for me to come in, as it could be awhile. I respond “I was at 4 cm earlier this afternoon” “You’d better come in.”
Early Tuesday morning: We grab stuff. We tell Mom we’re off to Kaiser. Joe farts around, I bite his head off as I work through 2 contractions waiting for him to get into the car. Contractions are now lasting 60-90 seconds and I’m not getting much of a break between them. We get to the hospital, Joe tries to park in the wrong place (Front doors close at 8:30, after that you have to go through ER, which is on the other side of the building.) We park, I waddle off towards emergency leaving Joe to grab all of my stuff. At that point, moving was much preferable to standing around, it hurt less. I even pace in the elevators.
We get upstairs, put me in bed, start strapping on all the crap they put on you. Someone checks and announces I’m at 6 cm. Crap. I was hoping I was further along than that. Spend next 15-20 minutes, breathing through contractions, and answering questions, even the dumb ones from Joe. I announce I need to go to the bathroom. I waddle off, nothing happens, but boy do I feel like I’ve gotta poop, badly. So I come out tell them what I’m feeling, they get me back into bed, I’m checked again and I hear “9 cm +, and almost completely effaced” Bitchin’! Someone asks me if I want an epidural if I go back to 7 cm after they break my bag, I thought about it and asked to play it by ear. They finally decide to move me to a delivery room, (The OR just in case a c-section is needed for the second birth). I’m fighting the urge to push the whole way there. Seems to take freaking forever.
They wheel me into this really lovely, cold room (I was sweating buckets by this point). I move over to the operating table, they futz around trying to attach stirrups to the table. I’ve really got to push by this point. I get my legs into place, and the OB I swear sticks her entire hand inside of me and starts fucking around. Hurt like hell and I really wasn’t in the mood to be fisted at this point, thank you. I tell her to knock it off or I’m going to throw up. She doesn’t, I do, and then she breaks my bag. Normally, it would just dribble out. My bag exploded all over her, the table, and the floor. I get to push! After, maybe 2 minutes Elli shows up. She wasn’t as hard to get out as Ike, but the compulsion to push was unbelievable. They kept telling me to slow down and I couldn’t stop.
Reprieve! For the next 15 mintues, no contractions. But the OB’s hand is up me again, trying to get Gwen into place. They can’t find her heartbeat, oh wait there it is, heartbeat is too slow, might have to do a
c-section , lets try and get the internal monitor on, okay, heart rate is fine, wait, hand is in the way, lets break the bag, another explosion of amniotic fluid, wait, quit pushing, blah, blah, blah. Gwen comes out so fast her head and first shoulder literally pop out of me, felt like the OB was scrambling to catch her. Gwen slithers the rest of the way out. And I’m done. Yea!
I have no idea how many people were there. All I know is that the room was completely filled with people scrambling to keep up with me. I rarely saw Joe, I couldn’t see anything of Elli after she showed up ‘cause equipment was in the way. Later we figured out that we were at the hospital about an hour before Elli was born. I was also complimented by several staff members on how good I did, and how fast I went, even though I was making them work their butts off. As I was getting cleaned up, etc, someone brings both girls over for me to look at before they get whisked off to the nursery for observation. We don’t get to hold them until 5 which was about 2 hours and 45 minutes too long in my opinion. I was so high from the endorphins that I couldn’t sleep until 11am, and even then only got about an hour.
That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.
Needless to say, I’m tired. But strangely not as physically wiped out as I was with Ike’s birth. The big difference I think was the amount of time I spent in hard labor. It was over 7 hours with Ike, and less than 2 with the girls. The girls are beautiful, man are they small! I was not expecting a 5 and a half pound baby! I was expecting 2 babies close to 7 pounds.
Now I’m going to go post this and crash!
Okay,
Monday afternoon: I see the OB, she stretches my cervix again, and schedules me for induction on Tuesday morning. I’m at 4 cm. I have contractions on and off all afternoon.
Monday early evening: after monitoring, I notice contractions coming at 6-7 minutes apart. Coolness! I call Joe and my Mom. After a bit the contractions seem to be getting a bit more intense. I run upstairs and get my DJ, which has my hypnosis exercises on it. After spending some time being uncomfy on the couch, I move upstairs to our bed. Contractions are still 6-7 apart, and still not too intense.
Monday late evening: Mom gets here at about 10. Contractions are more intense, Joe’s now free to spend his time with me. I give him the clock and tell him to start timing contractions. In between contractions he cuddles me and spends time on the computer (I’m assuming he was LJ’ing everything.). After awhile the contractions seem to be getting closer, I ask Joe and he says they are coming 4-5 minutes apart and have been for a bit. I tell him to call L&D. After answering a bunch of questions, the person on the other end tells me it’s a bit early for me to come in, as it could be awhile. I respond “I was at 4 cm earlier this afternoon” “You’d better come in.”
Early Tuesday morning: We grab stuff. We tell Mom we’re off to Kaiser. Joe farts around, I bite his head off as I work through 2 contractions waiting for him to get into the car. Contractions are now lasting 60-90 seconds and I’m not getting much of a break between them. We get to the hospital, Joe tries to park in the wrong place (Front doors close at 8:30, after that you have to go through ER, which is on the other side of the building.) We park, I waddle off towards emergency leaving Joe to grab all of my stuff. At that point, moving was much preferable to standing around, it hurt less. I even pace in the elevators.
We get upstairs, put me in bed, start strapping on all the crap they put on you. Someone checks and announces I’m at 6 cm. Crap. I was hoping I was further along than that. Spend next 15-20 minutes, breathing through contractions, and answering questions, even the dumb ones from Joe. I announce I need to go to the bathroom. I waddle off, nothing happens, but boy do I feel like I’ve gotta poop, badly. So I come out tell them what I’m feeling, they get me back into bed, I’m checked again and I hear “9 cm +, and almost completely effaced” Bitchin’! Someone asks me if I want an epidural if I go back to 7 cm after they break my bag, I thought about it and asked to play it by ear. They finally decide to move me to a delivery room, (The OR just in case a c-section is needed for the second birth). I’m fighting the urge to push the whole way there. Seems to take freaking forever.
They wheel me into this really lovely, cold room (I was sweating buckets by this point). I move over to the operating table, they futz around trying to attach stirrups to the table. I’ve really got to push by this point. I get my legs into place, and the OB I swear sticks her entire hand inside of me and starts fucking around. Hurt like hell and I really wasn’t in the mood to be fisted at this point, thank you. I tell her to knock it off or I’m going to throw up. She doesn’t, I do, and then she breaks my bag. Normally, it would just dribble out. My bag exploded all over her, the table, and the floor. I get to push! After, maybe 2 minutes Elli shows up. She wasn’t as hard to get out as Ike, but the compulsion to push was unbelievable. They kept telling me to slow down and I couldn’t stop.
Reprieve! For the next 15 mintues, no contractions. But the OB’s hand is up me again, trying to get Gwen into place. They can’t find her heartbeat, oh wait there it is, heartbeat is too slow, might have to do a
c-section , lets try and get the internal monitor on, okay, heart rate is fine, wait, hand is in the way, lets break the bag, another explosion of amniotic fluid, wait, quit pushing, blah, blah, blah. Gwen comes out so fast her head and first shoulder literally pop out of me, felt like the OB was scrambling to catch her. Gwen slithers the rest of the way out. And I’m done. Yea!
I have no idea how many people were there. All I know is that the room was completely filled with people scrambling to keep up with me. I rarely saw Joe, I couldn’t see anything of Elli after she showed up ‘cause equipment was in the way. Later we figured out that we were at the hospital about an hour before Elli was born. I was also complimented by several staff members on how good I did, and how fast I went, even though I was making them work their butts off. As I was getting cleaned up, etc, someone brings both girls over for me to look at before they get whisked off to the nursery for observation. We don’t get to hold them until 5 which was about 2 hours and 45 minutes too long in my opinion. I was so high from the endorphins that I couldn’t sleep until 11am, and even then only got about an hour.
That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.
Needless to say, I’m tired. But strangely not as physically wiped out as I was with Ike’s birth. The big difference I think was the amount of time I spent in hard labor. It was over 7 hours with Ike, and less than 2 with the girls. The girls are beautiful, man are they small! I was not expecting a 5 and a half pound baby! I was expecting 2 babies close to 7 pounds.
Now I’m going to go post this and crash!
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Date: 2005-08-18 05:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-19 05:57 am (UTC)