Ian's Birth Story
First, we had to move. We were living with a friend of mine, renting rooms in her house. There was SO not enough space there, and far too many animals, so the first thing we did was (sigh) move in with my parents. My father is disabled, so this wasn't as bad as it could be. When I eventually couldn't work at my old job anymore (it was an inventory service, and the hours were insane), I started getting paid to stay home and take care of him. For the most part, I had a very good pregnancy. Only one day of morning sickness, and three days of missed work (one of which was because I fainted in a back room of a store - it was 110 degrees back there). My BP was consistently higher than normal for me, but my normal BP is 110/70, so my doctor wasn't really worried. That is, right up until my last checkup. I went in on a Thursday afternoon for a normal visit. I was due on Saturday. I didn't go home until the following Tuesday.
First, when I got to the office, my BP was 139/104. CRAZY high for me. My doctor decided that since I was due in three days anyway, it would be a good time to induce. I agreed, and she admitted me right then and there. Now, I should mention that my partner had a phobia of hospitals. He wanted me to have the baby at home, the 'natural way'. I told him that when he got pregnant, he was welcome to make that decision himself. For me, I wanted medical care, and all possible advantages in case something went wrong.
Once admitted to the hospital, they of course started an IV. I despise needles. Can't stand them. I can (and did) take 50 hours of labor without pain meds, but needles turn me into a whimpering little baby. To have one actually left IN my arm was not an experience I care to remember. My partner arrived at the hospital shortly after that, grumbling all the while that we shouldn't be there, and that all doctors are quacks. I did my best to ignore him, and settled in to wait for them to begin
I was given my last meal at 5:00 that Thursday, and at 8:00, they began inducing me. It started with Pitocin, to begin contractions, and begin they did. Problem was, they wouldn't regulate. Around midnight, they stopped the Pitocin to let me sleep, but the contractions didn't stop; they also didn't regulate. They started it up again Friday morning, and I spent the whole day in bed, uncomfortable, unable to move around because they decided I needed a catheter (lovely), with contractions that refused to be regular. Friday night was a repeat of the previous.
Saturday morning, they started up the Pitocin again, and finally got me dilated to ONE centimeter. One. At this point, my doctor decided to break my water, to attempt to hurry the process along. They did this at 11 am. Immediately, my contractions regulated to every two minutes. EVERY two minutes. Sometimes they didn't stop before the next one started, or at least it seemed that way. For the first few hours of this, things progressed easily. By one, I was at four centimeters. Unfortunately, this is when it all went haywire. By four, I was still at four centimeters. By eight, my doctor looked at me and informed me that it was time to start thinking c-section. I told her I absolutely did not want to do that, so she agreed to let it go for a little while. By ten, it had not improved, so I was carted down to surgery. A HUGE needle was stuck in my back (I believe I've mentioned how I feel about them), and suddenly I couldn't feel anything below my shoulders, and above them I was unpleasantly fuzzy. I had planned to do the whole thing with just a cervical block, so I was rather displeased to have to be this disoriented. It seemed to be taking a rather long time for them to get the baby out, but I was too out of it to care by then. When he finally started crying, I did perk up a bit, and when they brought him over to me, I was able to say hi to him. I didn't attempt to hold him, as my arms didn't seem to be working correctly at that point. After that, they took him away to weigh and clean him, and I was brought to recovery.
When I got back to my room, I was told by my partner what my doctor hadn't had time to tell me; that the reason I hadn't progressed was that my son had barrel rolled at the last minute, before I was induced, and his umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck twice. He never went into distress, but I think I finally got it through to my partner WHY I wanted to be in a hospital!