It was Wednesday morning. I had an appointment at the hospital to measure the amniotic fluid and check if I was dialating any more, because my due date had come and gone. While I had been 75% effaced and dialated at 2cm for the last 3 months (yes, 3. I went into early labour at 26 weeks and after a hospitalization they managed to stop everything. So well in fact that I was now 2 weeks overdue!!) there was still no baby on the horizon, and I was sick of being pregnant, of braxton hicks, and dragging my leg behind me because of the sciatic nerve being pinched. My belly measured 104 cm around, and I was getting nervous. Anyway, nothing had changed, so I was scheduled to be induced the next day. The midwife wanted me to try the old castor oil remedy first though to avoid unnatural contractions, so when I got home I took the little concoction of apricot nectar, sparking water, and castor oil.
About 4 hours later, there was a giant tummy rumble, and I had the scoots. Bad. I had to run to the bathroom clenching my bum and praying that I would make it. I did make it. So as my system quickly emptied itself with the horrible cramps, I got another type of cramp. A contraction. Then another. Then another. Now this was about 8pm, and so I tried to wait it out. I took a bath to try and soothe the contractions, but couldn't stay in very long because the scoots were still scooting amid the contractions. While I was in pain, I do remember thinking "well, at least I won't poop on the delivery table!". Finally after about 2 hours of the pain, my mum said that we had better go to the maternity.
We arrived at the hospital, checked (effaced, 4cm!!, contraction every minute at 100%) and I was immediately put into the delivery room. This is where I would like to take a minute to say how mislead I felt. All of the tv shows and movies make it seem like, oh, a few painful contractions , and then you push about 3 times and pop! A beautiful baby. And it all happens in about 10 minutes time, about 3 minutes if it's a sitcom, and about a week afterward you are bikini ready and feeling fabulous. Ok so anyway, they put in the epidural at around midnight, and then I was feeling a whole lot of good. I was relaxed, mama cool, and I even slept. The problem is that the epidural slowed all of the contractions. So we were left alone in the room, with a nurse checking every hour. At about 2am my water broke, and we thought, Yes! This is it! But nope. Still nothing. Julien decided to get some sleep on the floor while I slept in the bed, and when he woke up, it was about 7am and the epidural was not working anymore. At all. So my contractions came back in full force to make up for the lost time. Julien had the nerve to start whining that his arm was hurting from sleeping on the floor, and at that moment I think I could have smacked him.
At around 9am, I was at 10. Ready to start pushing. I called the midwife and told her I needed to push. And that I needed something for the pain. The problem was that there was a shift change, and so we had to wait. I said " I can't wait anymore!! I need another epidural!! I need to push!! But nope, I wasn't allowed. Finally at about 10:30 the team was there. They gave me a another shot of the epidural, because I was in a lot of pain. Then the fun began. I started pushing. And pushing. And pushing. After about 30 minutes the midwife had me change positions. Then more pushing. Then more. Another change in position. Then another. Then they halted everything and said they needed the specialist, because not only was the baby stuck, but her heart rate was getting slower and slower, and they said she was in distress and that it was too late for a c-section. 2 specialists came. I thought, uh oh! That's not good. They evaluated the situation and found out that the baby was face up and couldn't slide out properly. Then the forceps came out. They pulled. I pushed. The midwife and Julien were pushing on the top of my belly, trying to force the baby down. At one point I had to push and use my arms to push my tummy along with Julien and the midwife. Finally they managed to dislodge her head, but then her shoulder was stuck. The episiotomy was getting bigger and bigger.
Then, finally after 1h30 of pushing, Charlotte saw the light for the first time. The specialist told me that she was face up with her eyes open when she was born, and we joke around now that she hasn't closed them since. And that's when the feeling of relief came. And joy. And worry. And being empty. And being in a dream. It's funny; at the time I said I would never go through that again. That I would never have enough strength to live the difficult pregnancy all over again. That I could never endure pain, emotional or physical, like that again. That I would never walk like I'd ridden a horse for a month again. Looking back now though, I've forgotten the pain. I've forgotten the worry. I've forgotten how rotten I felt being pregnant. I'm at the point where I think that maybe, just maybe, in the distant future, and if it's God's will, I could do it again. It's funny how that works. Anyways enough reflecting for today. My little girl is taking her nap (seriously, belly sleeping has saved our sanity!) and I need to work on flattening my abs (ok so maybe the flabby belly makes me rethink the whole having another baby thing, oh the vanity!!)
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