With Jack, I was scheduled to go in on a Sunday night for an induction because he was a week overdue, but he decided to come on on his own on Friday morning. It was perfect:)
Brad and I talked it over and decided to take our doctor up on his offer. It was something like 120 degrees outside (or so it felt) and my discomfort level was rising steadily each day. Because we had such a successful delivery the first time around, the doctor wasn't worried about an induction in the least. We left our appointment knowing that by Sunday at the latest, we'd have our sweet baby girl in our arms. Secretly, I was hoping she'd decide to come on her own, but it wasn't meant to be.
By Saturday night, I was loving that we'd decided on an induction. I was able to get the house straightened up, spend quality time with Jack, go grocery shopping to prepare for the week ahead, and have a wonderful dinner at Red Lobster as a family of three for the last time. For a control freak like me, induction was the way to go.
Early Sunday morning, Grandma and Grandpa came over to stay with Jack, and Brad and I headed to the hospital for our 7:30 appointment. By 7:50, I was on the IV and Pitocin was being administered. When the doctor arrived at about 9:30, I was still only 2-3 centimeters dilated. When he tried to break my water, I was so uncomfortable that he suggested I get the epidural first. I didn't really want to get it right away because I wasn't in any discomfort other than him trying to break my water, but the doctor explained that it would be better if I get it then so that I could relax, he could break my water, and then the baby would come sooner - especially if I already knew that I was going to want an epidural. So I caved.
The epidural experience was different than it was with Jack in that I could feel it a lot more and it was much more uncomfortable. I think I was in so much pain with Jack that the needle was the least of my worries, but like I said, at this point, I wasn't in any pain. Afterwards though, I could still feel my legs and move them around (not the case with Jack), so I knew this experience was going to be very different.
When the doctor came back to check on me I was only four centimeters dilated, but he was able to break my water. It was after that that things really got going. Before we knew it, I was at six centimeters. The contractions were getting stronger and stronger, and I could feel them. A lot. My pain level was increasing, and I was proud of myself for breathing through the contractions, but it was getting to the point that I thought I might break someone's hand for having squeezed it to death. The anesthesiologist came back in and gave me something to relieve the pain. He said it would take about eight minutes to work. They felt like the longest eight minutes of my life. I was having contractions about every 30 seconds and I wasn't really able to rest inbetween. After about ten minutes, he said he wanted to redo the epidural because it wasn't working. I did not want to redo the epidural - it hurt enough the first time, and now I could barely move due to the pain of contractions. Things were not going well. They made me redo the epidural. And so came the big, splashy tears.
The second epidural seemed to help a bit, but I still wasn't numb and could feel enough to still be hurting. I was terrified of how everything would feel from there on out... Within an hour and a half, I went from six centimeters to being fully dilated. The doctor came in and said it was time to push, but I was exhausted and wanting to sleep. And I could have...right then. And they wouldn't let me. So with Brad and my mom's help, I started to push. The problem was I'd push twice and then with the third push, nothing was happening. I didn't have the strength. So the doctor switched me to pushing only every other contraction, and put me on oxygen. Between pushes, they rolled me to my side, but I don't know why. Maybe to get oxygen to the baby...maybe to try to shift her position, I'm not sure. And clearly, I was not in a state to ask why. My doctor was getting sterner and sterner; he kept saying I had to push harder, and I kept trying to explain that I was pushing as hard as I could.
After an hour and a half of pushing and hearing lots of "one more time" from everyone in the room, Hannah was finally born. She was sunnyside up, and while they did immediately place her on my belly, the nurse explained that the doctor was going to cut the cord and they were going to take her. I felt barely conscious, but I was scared to death. Brad went with the baby to the warming station, and my mom stayed with me. Hannah wasn't breathing on her own, so they immediately cleared out her nose, and then stuck a tube down her throat to clear out fluid. After she cried out, they stuck a really long tube up her nose and down her throat to clear more fluid. I didn't see any of this, but once they told Brad she was going to be okay, he was able to videotape it, and I watched the video after we got home. I'm glad I couldn't see it at the time.
Nineteen minutes after she was born, I was finally able to hold our baby girl. She was so tiny and so beautiful. And healthy. Thank goodness.
While Hannah's birth was a very different experience from Jack's, it was perfect in its own way. I got to feel what labor is like and really worked to bring her into this world, and that is an amazing thing. And now she's here and healthy, and her Daddy and brother and I are absolutely in love.
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