Birth Story

Wednesday, June 3rd (well, actually Thursday June 4th) at 4am… the contractions started. I knew they were different than the Braxton Hicks. With the BH contractions, the stomach gets tight but there’s no pain and they are not regular contractions.

This 4am contraction hurt. It was more than a menstrual cramp pain. This was the last time I would sleep before meeting my baby. And, since I was 9 months pregnant, I wasn’t sleeping before the contractions started anyway.

Unsure of what was happening; I called in to work and took the day off. I was feeling the pain every 12-30 minutes. I woke Jason up at 6 that morning and warned him that I was having pains. He also called off work.

On Thursday morning, I was feeling these pains regularly and was just waiting for them to increase before I went to the hospital. By 10am, the contractions stopped. I felt guilty for calling off work and urged Jason to go in for a half day. He decided to stay home since he called in, anyway.

Thursday ended up boring and I was growing impatient. We packed up Cyan and drove to Petco. We walked around the store and decided to go to South Park for a walk. By this point, the contractions began but they were only slightly painful and I was sick of waiting around. So, we decided to walk (very slowly). I couldn’t keep any good pace since I had 40 extra pounds on me by this point.

By the time we drove home, I started to time the contractions again. They were growing painful to the point that I couldn’t talk during them. I just absorbed the waves of pain and rode it out.

All the while, each time I visited the bathroom, more of my mucous plug fell out. It turned pink and wouldn’t cease. I never saw any leaking water, though.

I don’t remember what we ate for dinner, but I have a feeling that it was bought at a drive through. I was in no condition to cook. After dinner we watched the Penguins game. The Pens were in the Stanley Cup Playoffs and were facing Detroit for the cup.

We watched the game as I timed the waves of pain. They intensified to the point that I started to believe that it was time to go to the hospital. They were timing at 8 minutes apart. The OB told me not to call until they were 5-7 minutes apart for an hour.

By 10pm I couldn’t take it anymore and called the OB. I didn’t want to make that 4am call and wake the doctor up. The OB told me to wait it out since I was only 8 minutes apart. She told me to wait for 5 minute contractions for an hour before calling. So, I hung up the phone and suffered in silence. Jason sat on the couch beside me and felt helpless (which he was).

After the game we turned in for the night. Jason zonked out upon hitting his head on the pillow. I kept a light on in the headboard so I could see the paper and keep timing the contractions.

At this point, the pain was so strong that with each passing wave, I grabbed on to the pillow (movie-style) and grimaced in pain. I said nothing and I made no noises. I curled in the fetal position and penned in the times every 7 minutes.

On Friday morning (June 5th), at 4am, I woke Jason up. I told him I was calling the doctor. I strongly debated calling that late/early in the morning but I decided it was the doctor’s job and I laid in bed, writhing in pain.

This time I didn’t make it an option for the OB. I told her that I was in severe pain and was heading in to the hospital. She told me that was fine and instructed me to go in and drop her name so they knew I was ‘permitted’ to come in.

We put the dog back to bed (and I gave her a big kiss). Our overnight bags were ready and we loaded up the car. We arrived at Magee Hospital at 4:15. Surprisingly, there was no traffic in the city! I, feeling crippled, limped into the ER. A police officer greeted us in the ER and knew why we arrived. He pointed us in the right direction and we headed up to Labor and Delivery. Luckily, a wheelchair was available for my journey.

The staff ushered us to a desk in the L&D department for check in. (Please don’t forget, though all of this process I was contracting… strongly. It was so bad that I blocked it from my memory and I can’t recall how bad it was except that I remember thinking it was the worst pain I’ve felt in my entire life.)

I only can recall one of their questions; ‘on a scale of 1-10, how bad is the pain?’ I answered, ‘9’. I should have said 10 but I figure there’s always room for more. After admitting me, they put me in a triage room to wait for a doctor.

A nurse made me strip down, give a urine sample, and took my blood pressure. She hooked me up to machinery and we heard out baby’s heart beat on the monitor. I later discovered that they were also monitoring my contractions.

An hour (and many unbearable contractions) later, the triage doctor arrived. She checked my cervix. I’ll never forget the look on her face after checking me. I was so afraid that I was only 1 centimeter dilated and I wasn’t supposed to come in yet.

She said something to the extent, ‘oh my gosh.’ I asked, ‘what?’ in a near panic. She pulled her hand out and said to me, ‘you’re 5 centimeters dilated’. We didn’t expect that news. The doctor admitted that my contractions must have been very strong if they were still 7 minutes apart and I was that dilated. She could see on the monitor as I had them and Jason couldn’t believe how quietly I took the pain.

Elated, frightened, and in disbelief, we waited as the staff worked on getting us in a delivery room.

I don’t think they put us in an L&D room until about 6:30am. Looking back, I’m glad I didn’t wait to go in even later. I’d probably pop in the Liberty Tubes.

The nurses hooked me up and Jason settled in on the bench next to the bed. They asked if I was ready for an epidural. I decided that going to 5cm on my own was enough. (Mind you, most people only make it to 3 before taking the drugs.)

An anesthesiologist arrived and played part numbing man / part comedian. I felt so much pain that I couldn’t play along with his jokes. I don’t even remember his jokes. He sat me up (Indian style) on the bed and asked me to lean forward. He stressed how important it was that I don’t move when the needle was inserted into my back.

I experienced a Spinal Tap a few months before so I knew what to expect. Honestly, I didn’t feel any anxiety. I quietly sat on the bed, ready for the pain relief. As he stuck me, another wave of pain surged through my body. I didn’t budge. He fidgeted behind me for several minutes and I was ready.

The pain eased down to a 4 on the scale. The problem was that the epidural slowed my contractions (which is common). The nurses hooked me up with Pitocin (pe-toe-sin). I knew this drug was harsh and could bring on waves of unbearable contractions. After it hit, the pain returned.

The epi seemed completely useless. I complained to the nurses and they worked on finding the anesthesiologist. A new guy arrived and informed me that I just need to ‘hit the button’ for extra relief. It was timed so I couldn’t overdose. He said he’d check on me in 15 minutes to see if that button helped.

The button didn’t help and this guy disappeared for 45 minutes. The nurses could tell that the button was a joke and finally tracked down the anesthesiologist. At this point, I was 7, going on 8, centimeters. So, I felt the full wrath of labor… with Pitocin. He arrived back in the room, seemingly annoyed. The nurses yelled at him that I was still in pain. He wasn’t playing around now.

He gave me a (what I call a bullet). I think it was a bullis? After that, he jacked up the epidural all the way. Within 15 minutes, I felt NOTHING… and I mean NOTHING from the hips down. I was so numb that I couldn’t shift in bed or scratch an itch on my leg. You could cut off a leg and I wouldn’t know it.

I found this comical and joked with the nurses. They had to maneuver my every move. And, they also had to catheter me every few hours. There was no chance of me getting to the bathroom at this point.

By noon I was 10 centimeters and the baby’s head was trying to come out the cervix. The problem was that the OB was in the middle of delivering another baby. Since I was numb to the world, I just stayed in the bed, and watched the news with Jason.

While waiting, my chin and lips started quivering. The nurses told me it was normal and not to fight it. They even offered me a puke bucket since many women throw up during labor. A stomachache wasn’t an issue.

However, since we arrived at 4am the night before, I hadn’t eaten for countless hours. The nurses could tell how hungry I was since I brought it up every 30 seconds. No matter how good the imagination is, ice chips are still ice chips, not a steak dinner.

Around 1pm, the OB could finally come in for the delivery. At first, it was just Jason and the nurse in the room. They each held a limp (and rather large) leg as I pushed. They had to bear all my weight since the epi was never turned down. The nurses said if I could push without any pain, I could go for it.

I breathed in deeply, exhaled, breathed in, and held it. I acted like I was having a bowel movement. I couldn’t feel a thing so I pretended I knew what it’d feel like if I was pushing out poo.

At one point, Jason looked me in the eyes and said, ‘this is real’. He could see the baby’s head. At first he didn’t want to watch anything but I guess morbid curiosity took over. I didn’t even want to look in the mirror to watch. They kept the mirror pointed at my face so I could just see my haggard form (without glasses).

We went through two contractions, three pushes each, and the nurse stopped me. She called in the OB.

Once the OB arrived in the room, she asked me to push (for ‘practice’, to see what was going on). Well, I’m a strong pusher. I did it once and she abruptly stopped me. She actually yelled at me to stop.

All of the sudden, the room was in a tizzy and everyone was preparing for the birth. I felt no anxiety. I felt like I was witnessing something on TV and was removed from my body.

The doctor then gave me permission to push once more. I later found out from Jason that he’s never seen me make a face like that before. I must’ve pushed harder than I thought.

With one push, the head was out. I could hear the suction when they took the fluid from the baby’s mouth.

On the next push, the OB instructed me to take it a little easier and push with less intensity. Once again, I guess on the push and hoped it was what she wanted.

At 1:24 PM, Callie Ann Kaplan arrived in this world at 6 pounds, 8 ounces, 21 inches.

Jason looked at me and tears welled up in his eyes. I’ve never seen him cry before. We both cried for a moment and Callie was swept away to be cleaned up. She was handed to Jason while they worked on me.

While Jason videotaped Callie’s first moments, I lay, legs wide open, waiting to be stitched up. The problem was that another woman needed to push so the OB left the room to deliver another baby. I was numb enough that I could wait for the sutures.

30 minutes later, the OB returned to finish her work. She stitched me up and I waited for transport to the post partum room. A nurse entered the room and she (as well as a full team of nurses) helped me onto the gurney. Being as numb as I was, I was at their mercy.

We arrived in the new room and promptly ordered food. It had been nearly 24 hours since I last ate and that’s all I could think about. The food was subpar but I was happy to ravish it. We settled in and I remained in that bed for the entire evening. This wasn’t by choice; it was simply because I still couldn’t move.

I had until 9pm to use the ladies room before they used a catheter in me. The nurses actually threatened me about peeing and warned that the cath would not be pleasant since I wouldn’t be numb at the time.

I gained enough sensation to move by 9pm and hobbled to the bathroom. A nurse helped me use the restroom and I felt like the Tin Man. Apparently I remained more numb than originally thought and I relied on her to hold me up.

Once we settled in, the visitors started. (Barry, Jason’s dad) made it earlier and clocked record time from the race track to come and see us.

I needed help the entire time in the hospital since recovery from birth proved to be more difficult than I thought. Jason stepped up and fully handled Callie’s needs.

We decided to use the nursery overnight while we stayed in the hospital. Neither of us slept well, anyway. But, we tried to get as much rest as possible.

On Sunday, the hospital discharged us and we carefully drove home. Callie was introduced to the cats, the dog, and the house. I suppose this is where the story truly begins.