ROCCO’S BIRTH STORY
Let’s start with the fact that I got to see my baby probably about 172 thousand times before he was born. I mean really. It was ridiculous. You see, when I got pregnant I was still in school to become a radiographer, which meant HELLO easy access to ultrasound on my clinical rotations!! SCORE. So I get in good with the ultrasound tech and viola I get to see Rocco like twice a month!! And he was beautiful!
I graduated school a tad over six months pregnant and boy did I miss those ultrasounds! And guess what else? No jobs were in my area. NONE. Which meant sitting at home trying my best to stay busy with something. So I had the great idea to go see a friend from class while she was at work (I wonder if an ultrasound tech is on duty ;) ?) hehe. Wellllllll there was. And we scoped out Rocco for the first time in a couple of months because I was FIENDING to see him again! He was still beautiful but at 38 ½ weeks pregnant she was a little concerned about my amniotic fluid being low so she sent me up to L&D. Busted. He was great and so was I…perfect everything, but they wanted us back two days later to do another stress test. So what do I do?? CHUG WATER. Like mad. And my fluid was up a little so no induction, which was great because I wanted a natural delivery!
Fast forward two days to my weekly appointment with my OB…who would be leaving in less than two days for vacation (did I mention I switched from a NIGHTMARE of an OB and his crazy Betty White look-alike nurse who liked to tell me about her dead grandbabies??) Totally cue the part from ‘Knocked Up’ where that dude totally flips on his vacationing OB. That’s what I pictured happening. My OB had other plans, though. He sent me for another stress test and ultrasound and guess who didn’t chug water that morning because she likes to pretend that it will keep about 7 pounds off that scale at the doc’s??? That would be me. HE GOT ME. Fluid was way low.
Luckily I talked the nurses (who kind of did a couple of sprints in and out of our room, which made me nervous) to let us go home and get a couple more things since the L&D department was full of mommies having babies anyways. So Paul and I leave and go eat Braum’s because OF COURSE they aren’t going to give me any good food once we get back to jail the hospital. Best. Bacon. Burger. Ever.
We then venture to my in-laws to inform them of impending induction and that we are heading to start the process, and hug Granny and Grandpa. Which was very nice of us because I told Paul that there was NO WAY anyone was coming into that room except him and my best friend. Paul totally agreed with me but instead of playing the ‘oh it all happened so fast but hey we are here in the hospital and he’s already born so come on and see him’ he decides to inform his whole family of the fact that we weren’t planning on telling anyone when I went into labor. Because he’s an idiot he thought it would be funny. Big mistake. Needless to say we were telling them BY GOD, but there was still no way anyone was coming in the room, my family included. No one. I was being selfish and neener neener I didn’t care. It was my birth.
So, we get the last couple of things from the house (which ended up pretty much being our phone chargers and tooth brushes) and killed as much time as possible before heading back to the hospital at around 2pm. Once we got there we basically realized we hurried up to WAIT. At about 6pm they put Cervidil in my cervix which pretty much looks like the nurse went to Foot Locker and picked up a nice new shiny shoelace and decided it’s new home would be my vagina. Sweet. It didn’t feel awesome when she did it and I was still ignorantly holding out hope that it could cause me to go into labor on my own without the Pitocin. We eat pizza. Paul slept in a terribly uncomfortable chair that I am sure is put there just to make him feel like he went into labor himself. I didn’t sleep.
At 6am they come to take the Cervidil shoe sting out of my whoo whoo. I shower because they tell me I will want to which I took as maybe I stink. So I did. The devil drug is introduced at about 6:30am and contractions are almost instant. Like 1 minute apart instant. AND they bring me some delicious broth in the form of a packet of dried substance and hot water!!! Now that’s what I call service!
I have no idea of the amount of drip or whatever they were using to measure that stuff flowing into me but I know they started me at a 2. Which sucked. And then Paul went to go get some breakfast (I tried to share the broth) and I swear that nurse was creeping around waiting for him to leave to crank that mother to 12!!!!! Paul comes back with a full belly and a VERY in pain wife. Hmm. I tried the bath which was ok but I got way too hot so I got out. I kept telling the nurse I had to poop, which she said was back labor and I kind of agreed with her since that is what I read, but we were both wrong. I pooped. Twice. It was in the actual toilet, which I considered a success since I felt like what I was doing was in some way wrong and going to ruin my labor.
After my #2('s) I endured some labor on the birthing ball. This was all about 5 hours in and I had no idea how dilated I was (but it felt like a good 20cm). I'm sure I spent all of 5 minutes on that damn ball....it felt better but still felt like hell. Paul rubbed my lower back but none of it was helping. Top it all of the nurse kept putting Rocco's blanket that we brought to swaddle him in front of me for me to focus on. Really? A blanket?? Hey, thanks, that's much better!
At about 7 hours in I asked for the pain meds. You know, the 'we can only give this to you three times, and it only works well the first time anyways' ones. The nurse came in and finally checked me and tells me I'm at a 5. “Oh, but honey you're already halfway there!” Are you kidding me? We've been here for 7 hours and I could have 7 more of this? Uh, no. Stick a needle in me, I was done focusing on the damn blanket. The drugs were a complete. waste. of. time. I mean it felt more like I was drunk AND in labor than anything else. I immediately told Paul to tell the nurse to get an anesthesiologist in here to do an epidural NOW. If this is what the 'pain meds' did to help then to hell with messing with them at all. Paul, did a quick 'are you sure?' because that's what a good husband does when his wife says no matter WHAT don't let me get drugs or an epidural, to which I responded by just pointed at the door. Point taken.
I wanted a natural birth so badly, but I don't regret a single thing about getting that epidural. It was there, it meant no more drugs were going to Rocco's system, only mine, and that was all I cared about. I also cared about the fact that it was a gift from GOD. I was progressing nicely. I got to sit and relax and talk with Paul, who coincidentally just went through the same 7 hardest hours of HIS life. He was beyond distraught that he couldn't help me feel better. He never showed it though, we never fought and, aside from my one finger point to the door, I was never even snippy with him.
Seven more hours. That's how long it took to finally get to a ten. And then they tell me I have a 'good' epidural because I can tell it's time to push. Great! Now get my Dr. because I'm READDDDDDY!!! PLEASE!!
It felt like you need to take the most glorious poop ever in history and I had to hold it until he got there...which I think was only about 15 minutes. Once he's there, I get to push! Yay! There are about 5 nurses, my friend, and Paul. Paul is by my shoulders and my friend has one of my big, fat, lifeless legs. Poor her.
My OB lets the girls work with my lady parts to help stretch instead of tear. Then he asks if I want a mirror so I can see. Well, SURE I do! But guess who else got a full view of all the happenings? Paul. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA In the end he was really glad he got to see everything but I was dieing with laughter!
The time between pushing is such a surreal time...I laid there and joked with everyone...the nurses, Paul, I told my friend I was sorry she had to hold my fat leg, and the OB gave Rocco his first mohawk once he had crowned. At one point I asked Paul to push my shoulders forward when I was pushing. He proceeded to pretty much shove my head into my chest instead of shoving on my shoulders. Once I stopped pushing that time I jokingly told him to never do that again. Everything was basically hilarious.
After an hour and a half of pushing Rocco was born at 9:07 PM. He was HUGE. And all Paul said was look how big is BALLS are!!! That's swelling honey. Eight pounds, 7 ounces and 21 inches long. And he was all mine (and Paul's). I got sewed up a bit, there was a huge suction noise which apparently was my placenta sucking out of me. I missed seeing it but laughed at the sound. I was too busy staring at Rocco. As soon as they handed him to me we got naked and he latched on like a champ. After that I was satisfied with him being taken to the nursery so the family could see him.
It couldn't have been a more amazing experience.
Tags: Birth, birth stories, birth stories on demand, hospital birth story, epidural stories, bladder fail funny, birth stories with pictures, induction, low fluid, Cervidil, Pitocin, birth pictures