Wednesday, August 24, 2016

I Can't Do This...

It was my slogan the entire time I was in labor. "I can't do this." I would go so far as to say that my life, as a whole, can be summed up in this statement. Picture this: in every single season, at every single stage, me simply saying, "I can't do this" while soldiering on anyways. It doesn't matter whether I can or can't do one thing or another. It will happen regardless. And so I press on.

For most of the day on Saturday, Bryan and I labored in our room. For whatever reason, it was the place that I wanted to be. Chanah had Bryan and I do some side-laying exercises that are proven to help the baby get positioned on the cervix better and man did they HURT. I was crying out in pain, the contractions were so intense. My sisters fed Shepherd and made sure he was taken care of and after lunch, he went to be with Papa. I had to reassure him multiple times that Momma was fine and that my loud noises were normal. A cesarean is gross in its own way, but I was not mentally prepared for the stuff that would precede the baby...if you know what I mean. Bryan was so, so great though. He helped to keep me clean and we labored for a long time.

The problem was that I still had not eaten, had water or slept. When someone would talk to me in between contractions, I would just utter (over and over again) that I couldn't do it. I can't do this. I couldn't continue. I was so tired. I just needed sleep first. So thirsty. If I could just rest... I was getting so dehydrated that my lips started peeling badly. They were so chapped, that I would rub them and the skin would just peel off. I asked for chapstick and kept applying, but it wasn't enough.

During this time, they tried to get me to sip on some Pepsi. They hoped that it would help give me a jolt. It mostly just made me throw up. Soon after Shepherd left, we were discussing the options. Considering that I had been in early labor since Friday morning and active later since Friday evening, with no sustenance or rest, my midwife believed the best thing to do would be to transfer to the hospital. It was about 3:30pm on Saturday at this point, if I remember correctly. When she checked me, I was almost an eight. She was very concerned that I wouldn't have the strength I needed to get through transition and push the baby out. All of the hard work was ahead of me and I was running on empty.

Bryan and I ultimately heeded her advice. We packed up everything in moments and headed to Fresno. Alison was going out of town that day so she helped close down the house along with my other midwife and Kari. Chanah jumped in her car very soon after Bryan and I left the house and Kari would follow later.

The ride to the hospital was excruciating. Every bump along the way was felt by ever inch of my body. By the time we got there, got out of the car, parked, signed all the documents and got undressed in triage, it was about 6pm. My contractions had slowed a bit, but the baby was totally healthy. I threw up in triage and they hooked me up to an IV right away, because of the dehydration.

When they checked me, they said I was about a 4-5. I know that the cervix can close up when women are transferring, but I was disappointed anyways. Bryan reassured me that when we were settled and I had some rest that I'd bounce back.

I obviously don't have many pictures of this, but I do have a lot from after I got the epidural. Bryan, Kari and Chanah stayed with me the entire time, with Kari only leaving to go downstairs to nurse Elliot and eat with Adam. She also brought Bryan some food, which he appreciated. We had to fight the entire time for me to get some sleep - since that was the entire point of going to the hospital. I needed fluids and I needed rest. I was able to get some, but it wasn't enough.

Our nurse was amazing though,and we soldiered on into another night. We did different positions on the bed to help Lauriana drop and she even had me do some pushes to help things along. I was starting to get a migraine from not sleeping and eating for so long, so they let me have some broth. It took the edge off. The epidural I received wasn't typical. The machine wasn't on continually dripping... if that is the right word for it. So the anesthesiologist would just come and give me a bolus of the epidural infusion as needed. He came in three times. Once when it was first put in, once when they were not letting me rest and then gave me a half when we bartered to get a two hour block of sleep. It was important to me that I could feel what I was doing when showtime came along.

I had a resident doctor and she was extremely pushy but I didn't find her to be unkind. There was one moment when the nurses shift change came up and this boisterous head nurse came in and flipped on the lights in the middle of a short nap and said loudly, "Let's get this thing in gear. Either you can have a few hours of pain now or a few hours of pain later but either way, it's happening." Or something to that affect. Kari about flipped her LID. She was like, excuse me, we are trying to have a specific atmosphere in here and it would be nice if we could turn off the lights so she can concentrate. I was still singing the same ol' tune, that I couldn't do this, and Kari was trying to get my mind right.

She came to me and Bryan and said that she and Chanah had bartered for as much time as we were going to get and it was time to make a decision, either I needed to request a cesarean or get to pushing. Bryan told me that he couldn't ask me to go any further. He left it up to me and damn, did I want a VBAC.

So, I told Kari to ask the doctor for another half hour so that I could wash my face and wake up. I told Kari that I just needed to get pumped. I was like, I gotta get psyched and get this to happen. I'm gonna DO THIS! We started the long road into pushing. I pushed for like... two and a half hours. I remember looking at the clock and being like, omg this is taking SO LONG. The epidural was gone and I could feel everything and my renewed sense of self quickly drained away into a puddle of emotion and tiredness. In between pushes, I resumed my prior stance: I can't do this.

In the last hour, I started to lose my shit. I was starting to panic after every push. Chanah and Bryan would help to calm me down and I locked onto Chanah's voice. After the push, I would freak out for a few seconds and she would start to talk and I would just go limp, almost as if in a trance. I had to let go completely and she helped me to just detach.

When the baby started to crown and I was working on getting her head out, I was starting to hyperventilate because home girl was not breathing right. So, I got myself a pretty oxygen mask. I didn't let that deter me. I would do two or three pushes and then relax. I got into a rhythm.

I didn't find this out until later, but was the baby was crowning and the doctor was stretching me (soon a huge rush of people would come into the room preparing for the babies imminent arrival) Chanah say the doctor give me lidocaine and Chanah was pissed. She innocently asked "what is that for?" and the doctor said, oh I can see she is going to need an episiotomy. Kari, who was standing by Bryan but farther towards my head, practically yelled, "Megan, the doctor is going to give you an episiotomy, you have to give your consent. MEGAN DO YOU GIVE YOUR CONSENT?!" and right before the onset of a huge contraction, I yelled, "NO EPISIOTOMY." and pushed as hard as I could.

Well. I didn't know that I had been given lidocaine. And when you have skin that is stretched beyond belief so that a HUMAN CAN PASS THROUGH IT and you suddenly pump it full of 10 cc's of fluid, you know what skin does? It explodes. And that's what happened.

But it didn't matter at that moment. Lauriana's head came out, quickly followed by her shoulders and suddenly, the pain was gone.

The girl who couldn't, did.


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