Avery's Arrival Story

My water broke on June 29th, 2013 at 3:05 a.m.  That whole evening before Brad and I had been timing contractions that I weren't sure were contractions, because they were very sporadic, so I assumed they probably weren't real.  I had always thought that if I was in labor, I would know it.  I had always thought a lot of different things about labor, and found that in my own laboring to deliver Avery, none of those rules applied.

I woke up to a very intense contraction, and without thinking about it, started pounding my hand on Brad's chest.  Then my water broke.  "Brad...Brad...BRAD!" "Ya." "My water just broke." And then he was awake...sort of.  I had fallen asleep in the dress I put on the day before, so all I had to do was put some tights and a sweater on, slip on my moccasins (the only shoes that still fit my gigantically swollen feet), grab my bag, and I was ready to go.  Brad was brushing his teeth :)  Halfway through he realized he had no idea why he was brushing his teeth, but he'd already started so he'd better hurry and finish.  Leaving Archie still in his kennel (where he would be until about 3 p.m. that day), we were off.

We jumped in the Subaru, and I braced myself going over every bump in the road.  I was actually pretty impressed with how little my contractions were hurting me.  I'd read enough books to know that once your water breaks, it won't be long, so how come I wasn't ready to die yet? 

We walked into the Emergency Room.  The woman at the counter asked if it was time.  With a smile I told her it was.  She called someone to come and get me, and got a wheel chair out for me to climb into.  I almost laughed.  It seemed so unnecessary.  On the way up in the elevator I made small talk with the lady wheeling me around.  I asked her how long it would be now since my water already broke.  She said, "You know, I'm not sure!  We'll ask someone up there for you."  She never did lol :)

When we got to my room, the nurse gave me a gown to change into, and when I was changed she had me fill out some paperwork.  It was starting to hurt a little more now, but I still was able to sign my name clearly and answer all her questions without pause.  I couldn't help but wonder at how easy this was so far.

That wonder was soon replaced with a different sort of wonder.  "I wonder how I'm going to even do this?!"  (That's the calm understatement of how I began to feel.)  Not long after they strapped some devices on my belly to monitor the baby's heart rate and my contractions, my contractions started spiking off of the screen and staying there for a looooong time.  I had packed so many different coping mechanisms that I was sure would make me able to give birth naturally, without pain medication.  But now I couldn't remember what any of them were.  I had read that even in the later stages of labor, contractions stay about 2 to 3 minutes apart.  According to the monitor, I was having them every ten seconds.  Every time a contraction came I thought, "I've got ten seconds to figure out what to do!", and then the next contraction came.  I was shaking.  I was making horrible noises.  The nurse came to me and asked me if I'd like anything for the pain.  I waited for my ten second window, and then I told her, "Yes."

I'll be honest, I don't feel as guilty as I maybe should.  Even after the epidural, I was still in pain, but I was more able to use it.  For some reason, most of my epidural went to my legs :)  One was completely numb for most of the experience and quite awhile after.  I couldn't even feel it touching the bed.  It did help with the contractions, but there was a large spot on the left side of my abdomen through to my back that still felt it all. And I was glad for it.  It's not as much pain as I would have experienced naturally, but it was enough that I needed to breath through it, and I knew when and how to push.  Before the epidural, I was on the verge of hyperventilating and pretty hysterical.  I wish I could regret it and say I won't get the epidural again, but I still absolutely loved my experience.  It hurt, it was hard, and it had the same joyous outcome.

My labor experience was 8 hours long.  Exactly half of that was spent dilating from 4 to 10 centimeters (which is ridiculously rapid if you didn't know), and the other half was spent pushing (which is a ridiculously long time to push).  Brad was by my side the whole time, and family filtered in and out, cheering me on.  One disappointment to us was that our doctor wasn't there.  He was at a family reunion, so someone had to fill in for him.  Unfortunately we were matched up with a doctor who was not personable, not present, and just not very concerned for me in general.  We saw him once after the epidural, and then again when the baby was about to be born.  Brad had told a nurse that he wanted to cut the cord, and apparently the doctor didn't get the message and did it himself.  My doctor told me that she would be brought to my chest immediately after she was born.  She was taken across the room to be cleaned up.  My injuries were extensive, and he didn't do anything to prevent it.  After she was born, I spent the next 2 hours being stitched up.  I'm also still (after 3 months) dealing with a tailbone injury that he denies witnessing (Brad and I both heard the crack).  Okay, I'm done going over the few sour parts of our experience :)

And then, at 11:23 a.m., there she was!  8 lbs. 3 oz., 20.5 in. long.  Brad decided, and I was totally fine with it, to stand down near the doctor and witness her first appearance.  I was busy up there with a nurse on each side in some crazy sort of position that finally brought my baby girl into the world.  Brad was in awe.  He had the biggest smile on his face.  I couldn't believe how little the gore bothered him and how blown away he was to see her little face emerge.  Her first cry was such a relief!  It brought us so much joy.  And really, when we remember how undeserving we are of such a blessing as her, it still does.