October 28, 2009
Owen Thomas
Saturday morning, October 17th, I woke up at 6 a.m., took a shower and got dressed, and then had a piece of toast and glass of water, all the while wondering if that was the day my baby would be born.
Doug was a little more anxious than usual and he was quiet as he drove me to the hospital for Round Two of Induction. I tried to make small talk, because he wasn’t the only one who was nervous. I was the one having the baby and my nerves were shot. He dropped me off by the Emergency Room doors so that I could be admitted while he parked the car.
I got the same room as the day before, and it felt like “home” in a strange way. My nurse, Lori, was absolutely wonderful. She told me to undress, gown up and that the on call OB/GYN, Dr. P, would be in to see me shortly. He was reviewing my chart, and since I had seen him twice for prenatal care, he was familiar with my chronic hypertension, PCOS, and history for pre-eclampsia.
I sat down in the bed after changing. It was 7:15 a.m. Just before 8 o’clock, Dr. P came to my room to check my cervix. It was determined that I was still only 2-3 centimeters dilated, but my cervix was now very soft and could probably handle induction by pitocin fairly well. I was skeptical, because it didn’t work with Dawson, but I was willing to try again. I was ready to have this baby.
Dr. P guessed that my baby would be born some time around midnight, weighing 3700 grams (he made this guess by external palpation). When I asked what that was in pounds, he joked, “I’m not sure, my hands aren’t equipped to convert metric.”
My contractions began about an hour later, mild at first, just a stronger version of menstrual cramps. Every 30 minutes Lori came into check on me, as well as up the pitocin. My labor was progressing gradually, but not as fast as expected. In fact, when I got up to use the bathroom, the contractions stopped altogether.
At around noon, Dr. P came in and broke my water. That’s when the fun began. My contractions were stronger, closer together and I managed to breathe through most of them for about two hours. Somewhere between five and six centimeters I couldn’t take it anymore. Every time I took a breath, I felt such horrible pain. Lori assured me that the pitocin contractions are like a mack truck slamming into my uterine wall, and that it was okay if I wanted the epidural.
“Last time I checked,” she said, “they don’t give medals for natural childbirth.”
I decided the epidural was the best choice because subconsciously the pain was making it hard for me to relax and therefore my cervix wasn’t dilating past six. After the anesthesiologist came in to administer the epidural, I felt relieved. But then it took him three tries to get the catheter into my back, and when he finally “got it” I was ready for a nap.
At first the epidural was great. I didn’t feel the horrible contractions any longer, but I saw them on the monitor and wondered if I would have been able to handle such forceful waves of pain. A few hours later, I noticed only my right side was numb, the left side of my body was only partly numb and mostly tingly. I pressed a button for a bolster of medicine and still I could feel the left side of my body. It made me nervous.
Sometime around 5:30, Dr. P came to check my cervix and I was happy to discover I was at nine centimeters and the doctor said it would probably be 3 to 4 hours before the baby was born.
No sooner than he said those words, the baby’s heart rate dropped significantly and the sound was like a drum in my ears. Before I could make sense of what the doctor and nurses were saying, Lori put an oxygen mask over my face and told me to inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth. I was trying not to panic, but the heart rate wasn’t going up. The other nurse helped to roll me over to my left side, then to my right side. The heart rate went up a bit, and Dr. P ordered an electronic fetal monitoring device to be attached to the baby’s scalp.
Once that was complete, the heart rate was better, but later took another dip. With the oxygen mask still on my face, Dr. P checked my cervix. I was at ten centimeters and the nurses and Dr. P ordered me to push.
I heard my doctor say, “I’m going to need to use the vacuum, baby needs to come out. He’s had enough of this birth canal, we need to get him out to get his heart rate back up.” Surprisingly, the doctor was so calm through it all. He never got excited or worried. He was so in control and I think that helped me to deliver my baby.
Through all the chaos and panic, somehow, I managed to push five (maybe six?) times and Owen Thomas Tuszke was born at 5:57 p.m. The umbilical cord was around his neck, it happened sometime during his travels down the birth canal, which is probably what made his heart rate drop. Once he was out, the nurse whisked him to the isolette and suctioned him. After what felt like forever, I heard him cry. He was not happy.
So much for 3 to 4 hours, I told Dr. P. He laughed as he stitched my tear. I remember my legs, my whole body, really, shaking uncontrollably. I kept looking over to the isolette to see the nurses cleaning Owen and weighing and measuring him.
“He’s perfect,” Lori said. “And his color is good. He’s got lungs!”
Owen cried for a few minutes and once he was wrapped in blankets, he was making the most adorable whimpering sounds. It was almost like he was telling us all about his journey into this world. I cried tears of joy and when the nurse put him in my arms, I was absolutely in love.
And he really is perfect.
