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October 21, 2008

What had happened was - or - The arrival of one Hugh Sloan Hollway

I've been meaning to write this for a week, but clearly, been busy trying to create milk from scratch (still to little avail). Many have asked to hear details, others were so forthcoming with their stories and frankly, I just feel the need to document.

This will be the version not filled with TMI, but that version is available by request. This whole process has made me convinced (as I am with marriage and divorce) that there is really NOT a tell all book out there that _really_ breaks it down in blatant terms. You really can't make this stuff up. But that would be the TMI version, so I digress.

Wednesday, October 1
Check in with the OB office. Karyn is on vaca, so her partner checks me. 1 cm dilated, 80% effaced. He comments that since I live an hour from the hospital, if I'm still pregnant when Karyn returns on Monday, we might want to discuss induction, just so we can control the situation. I explain that I'm trying to go drug-free, so no induction. However, the concept that he thinks there's a chance that I might not still be pregnant on Monday gives me MUCH joy.

Thursday, October 2
My morning Google Reader check results in an audible "dammit!" Three of the four women I know due around the same time have already popped, and a blog entry by the fourth woman's husband indicates that she's gone into labor as of that morning leaving me the last miserable woman standing.

There's a lot of illogical thinking wrapped up in that, but despite my best efforts at logic, I'm a little bummed and a lot impatient (for myself - totally psyched for my friend!). And no, it's not lost on me that one of the tenants of natural childbirth is things happenings, well, naturally, and to be impatient and wishful about it is completely counterintuitive.

At my acupuncture appointment, I report the above, and give the go ahead to "not really induce, but not really hold progress up either."

On my way home from work I realize I need a chocolate shake and large fries from McDonalds. Like, NEED IT. I am the last woman standing after all. I stop at the McDonald's off our exit and lo and behold, the shake machine is broken (is this not almost always true when the craving is strongest?). So, not to be thwarted, I drive to the next McDonalds 6 miles away on the other side of our house. On the way I pass a Burger King and am struck by the recollection of the amazing mustard/pickle-ness of their cheeseburgers. I must have one. So I drive through and get one. Then head to McDonalds for the rest. Then bring it all home and LOVE. EVERY. BITE.

I feel more uncomfortable than usual that evening, but that had started to be the case every day - a new level of uncomfortable. Plus, I'd clearly just filled my belly with the most vile stuff known to man - of two varieties - plus dairy - so I brushed it off.

Friday, October 3
At some point around 5am I get up for the routine bathroom visit. I'm not sure how long I'm back in bed, or whether or not I fall asleep, but at 5:47 I feel a small "pop" and a gush and I immediately spring out of bed, turn on the light and announce "Cameron, this is it." (Literally. That's what I said.)

I call Karyn (OB and childhood friend) who is on vacation, but luckily only an hour away from the hospital. She tells me to get thee to labor and delivery. I ask if I have time for a shower, which clearly, I do. I proceed to not only shower, but wash my hair and shave my legs. I also start Twittering (http://twitter.com/niklmaid - they are in reverse order, pregnancy related tweets starting on page 2) We get in the car by 7am, and we're off. I also call my mom, sister, Stephanie (doula) and Afua (acupuncturist) around that time.

Oh, and Kristen. My dear friend Kristen who hand picked my resume for my internship with Disney Theatrical back in 1994 and who has never been to St. Louis is in St. Louis for the day. And staying with me. I call her to tell her that I won't be at Liluma for lunch at 11:45, I am in labor. She says she'll see me at the hospital.

Upon arrival at the hospital, they check me and make the determination that while I'm 2-3 cm and 100% effaced, they don't think my water has broken. It's 9am. My mom and Stephanie are already on their way. Since I live so far away, they want me to stay at the hospital and walk around until noon, when they'll check me again. Stephanie arrives and Cameron sneaks me some food. Then some fluid appears (this is hard to do non-TMI) that most definitely is water breaking material, and whoosh (ha ha), I'm admitted.

At about 10am, I get my first IV ever. Not amused by this, but I tested Group B Strep positive (40% are - no danger to me, but possibly to the baby if he's exposed to it in the canal) so I have to have antibiotics every so many hours. Feh. But in between I can be free f it.

The labor/delivery/recovery rooms rock, with plentiful chairs and a couch, windows, non-annoying lighting, etc. Plenty of room for my birth posse, which by noon, is in full effect (Cameron, Mom, Afua, Stephanie and a visit from Kristen!). Karyn arrives around 2pm or so.

I'm doing lots of pacing, lots of walking the halls. The yoga ball is NOT working for me at all. Squatting is slightly effective, but mostly pacing and leaning against things. At some point around 2:45 I try laying down b/c dang gummit I want a _rest_ between contractions. Not my best idea. After one contraction on my back, projectile vomiting and the shakes (haven't vomited since my Wasser farewell party at Revival prior to my long - but now complete - tequila hiatus). But progress! 6cm.

By 4:30 I'm 8cm, still shaking, no more puking. The shaking thing is really crazy. Like, really crazy. Like Thriller dance break crazy. This is when I discover the all fours on the bed position. Pile of pillows for support, go vertical when the contraction comes, back down on all fours for some rest. It felt good to get off my feet.

At 7:30, I'm still 8cm (still on all fours). By this time my dad has arrived. Karyn comes in and wants to talk about Pitocin (a synthetic form of oxytocin, a contraction-causing hormone made in a woman's brain). I am slightly concerned about side effects but mostly concerned that the contractions it produces will not be bearable without pain meds. Karyn's concern is that I've stalled, and if I stay stalled she's going to want to talk to me about a C-section. I ask to think about it. We try pressure points, walking, squatting, everything. An hour later, no progress. Karyn moves from suggesting an option to prescribing an option. I still want to think about it. An hour later, after 4 hours at 8cm and two hours of "thinking about it" on ll fours and walking around the L&D floor, I concede to start out at half the normal dosage of Pitocin.

Having nothing to compare it to, I can't tell you if the contractions are worse with the Pitocin. There were for serious, and the best way I discover to ride them out is standing slightly squatted with my feet a little more than shoulder width apart, kind of rocking in a horizontal circle through each contraction. This goes on for about two hours, through which we see the progress we need. Honestly, the most painful thing is my hips. My hips are killing from all the standing, and I just. want. off. my. feet. A few times I tried to lie down to be able to really rest in between. BAD idea. It was so bad that when it was time to be checked I would have Karyn wait until just after a contraction, jump on the table, and be off before the next one came. Brutal. But not so brutal that I did not continue to sing along with "SexyBack" and call out the high notes in "Got to Be Real."

At about 11:45 the pushing begins. By this time my sister has arrived and she, my mom and Cameron take over as my home stretch coaches. I had heard a great deal about an "incredible urge to push." I had interpreted it to be like a light switch that would go on and I'd just know (Deanna, I kept thinking about the transition story you shared with me). I don't know if it was the Pitocin (which they'd been increasing on regular intervals throughout) or just me, but I didn't - in hindsight or in real time - feel a clear demarcation between labor, transition and pushing.

Saturday, October 4
Pushing goes on for a little over an hour, and there is a good deal of TMI stuff that goes on. The non TMI version is that in the midst of pushing, I am worried about the pain of small side procedures, which is insane. Progress is slow enough to result in minimal post-repair. Kira catches some of it on never to be seen film. Cameron is a rock star coach and partner. I manage to Twitter between pushes. I break multiple blood vessels in my eye pushing so hard. I undo approximately 10 years of work on my back with the whole legs up and back body and chin forward and down push like a maniac thing. Karyn gives the baby a mohawk before he's actually born. Mr. Placenta is cooperative. And my soundtrack is still going in full effect (The Wiz, "Brand New Day").

At 12:54am, Mr. Hugh Sloan "Bubba" Hollway is born at 8lbs 8oz, 20.5 inches. For those who don't know, Hugh Sloan was Cameron's mom's father's name. His nickname was Bubba. My mom's father (who some of you have heard much about) was also nicknamed Bubba. My uncle was even Little Bubba.

And that's, what had happened.

Posted by nikl at October 21, 2008 11:40 AM

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