Lierre's Birth Story Part 1

Hey there. This will be long. So for all you people who don't feel like reading waaaay too much (Evan Simmons), here is the Reader's Digest version:

I started having contractions on Wednesday, August 15 around 9:00 or 10:00 p.m. We went to the hospital around 5:00 a.m. I progressed and then had a C-Section around 5:00ish p.m.. She was born at 6:33 p.m on August 16, 2012. The rest of the stay kind of stunk, but was alright. I had a fever at one point and an allergic reaction to something, but everything worked out. We came home around lunch on Monday the 19th (I think).

Now.... for those of you who want the nitty gritty details..... and many, many details, here we go! [I am not kidding. This will be long because this also serves as sort of a journal for me and little lady.]

THE BEGINNING/CONTRACTIONS
If you had been following along with our story, you know that I had been having some false labor contractions for a few days and one night even thought I was going into labor. I had finally given up on all induction methods and was just hanging out with Tim on Wednesday evening, watching TV. I had felt mildly crampy on and off throughout the evening, but I was NOT going to get my hopes (or Tim's) up again. I finally told Tim around 10:00 that I thought I was having a few contractions. He was instantly alert, but hesitant. I assured him not to time anything, that would be silly and let's just wait shall we? However, around midnight he mentioned again timing the contractions. This time I agreed and told him "They have an app for that." He got excited and found one that timed the contraction start to finish and told you how much time in between each contraction. We decided to try to go to bed and rest (hahahaha) and see if anything happened.

The first contractions he started timing were about 14 minutes apart I think. Nothing to get too excited about. After all, they had preached and preached about the 5-1-1 rule at our birthing classes endlessly. 5 minutes apart, lasting at least 1 minute in length, for at least one hour before heading to the hospital. They started out feeling sort of like menstrual cramps. Sort of. Enough to make me curl up in fetal position in the bed while we pretended to watch television. Welp. That didn't last long. I would like to line up every person who ever told me contractions felt like period cramps, look them each in the eye, and ask them why they lied to me. I guess the "cramp" feeling... like the worst period cramps or gas ever gave me the heads up that a contraction was about to start. Have you seen The Exorcist? Yeah, well.... the contortionist persona I took on when each contraction hit would put that to shame. I would start out almost dozing in the top right corner of the bed in fetal position and somehow end up on the bottom left of the bed, or the floor, or on top of Tim. My body would stretch and curl inward and twist of its own accord. I almost felt like I was watching myself, I had so little control or forewarning over what my body was about to do.

The contractions I felt hurt the WORST in.... my legs?? In all my classes, and in all the people I had talked to, and all I had read had warned me about stomach pain and potentially back pain.... but no one had told me about leg pain? The pain started in my stomach, like getting punched while wanting to have diarrhea (yeah, gross, but trying to paint a picture here), would radiate to my back, and then shoot down through my butt and thighs all the way to my knees. I had no idea what to do with that pain. Like the worst kind of fire combined with acid with a dose of being beaten by a baseball bat. My mantra to Tim was "I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do." As soon as the contraction was over, I was completely normal again and Tim would try to tell me that I didn't have to know "what to do," that my body was already doing it. I just literally didn't know how to handle the pain or what "techniques" to use on my legs. I had also never cussed so much in my life. It was like I had been possessed by the most foul-mouthed sailor ever. I even texted my mom (it seemed like the best idea at the time): "Pardon me, but shit shit shit shit shit." I rarely cuss, and never in front of my mom, so...don't know why I thought that might help.

The contractions went to about 8 minutes apart, then to 5 minutes apart, then sporadic between 2 minutes and 5 minutes. I decided to eat a granola bar since they said you don't really get to eat when you get to the hospital. Not long after there was one point where I just sat up and said "I think I am going to throw up." I ran into the bathroom, leaned over the toilet and projectile vomited. Again, think Exorcist. I had told Tim earlier in the night that if I was to get sick, to just leave me alone. Yeah, he didn't listen. He tried to clean me up and the toilet and all the while I thought how horrible this situation was. And then the contractions would stop, my mind would clear, and I would regain a grip on the situation.

Now, in all my big plans, I had typed up a nice packing list. I had packed Lierre's bag, knew where most of Tim's stuff was....and had completely failed to pack anything for myself. This job fell to Tim when I realized how exhausted I was in between each contraction. Also in all of my nesting freak-outs prior, I told Tim that I did NOT want to come home to a dirty house. So...while I lay in the floor dying, Tim packed our bags and also cleaned up.... so sweet.... and yet I could have cared less at that time.

Tim called the doctor, we packed up the car, put Jack our dog in the car, and drove to my parents. We dropped off Jack.... or rather Tim did while I panicked alone. My mom and dad rushed out to give me a window hug, say a quick prayer and we were on our way.

THE HOSPITAL/active labor/pushing
We parked in the 10 minute parking spot to check in (I actually worried about this, that we would stay too long even though there were no other cars there) around 5:00 a.m. They checked everything & confirmed I was in labor (duh). The first people to arrive: Mom, dad, and my sister-in-law Kristin. It was very surreal as they wheeled me from the initial triage room to the delivery room. When I wasn't having contractions, I was thrilled and excited and nervous. When I was having contractions I couldn't think of much of anything at all.

I was so happy at this point of around 7:00 a.m. that I had stayed up all night and still had some energy. I was getting hungry, but was also kind of nauseous. My mom, dad, and kristin all came back to say good luck. My dad didn't say much...just looked kind of worried about me before high-tailing it to the waiting room. Mom and Kristin lingered and then proceeded to stay about an hour (I think? Time ceased to exist a little) and help Tim massage me and press on me while I thrashed around. Because they thought Lierre was sunny side up, I had to lay on my side with one leg pulled to my chest in hopes of turning her. I don't know why, but cervical checks hurt so so so so bad. Is that normal? I kept trying to refuse them but ended up getting them. Some time around lunch (12:00? 1:00? 2:00?), all plans of having a natural child birth went out the window and I got an epidural. I was 6 cm dilated. This is where the "lies" and my disappointment began. I HATE needles. They said they would talk me through each step of the epidural and that it would hurt so much less than my IV had. Nope, didn't tell me when they were doing anything so I jumped when they inserted the needle or tube or whatever and it hurt waaaay worse than the IV. Anyway, as I tried to ignore the fact I had yet another something sticking out of my body, the pain began to subside and I was blissfully unaware of the contractions.

Then I became aware of my overwhelming hunger, my nausea, and how we were about to become parents....holy cow. Mom and Kristin had left some time before then, so it was mostly just Tim, me, and our wonderful labor nurse. I kept "joking" how I was afraid of pushing and that I was going to have to get a C-Section at some point. She assured me over and over that that was unlikely, kept things up beat and tried to answer all of my questions ("Oh man, what if I poop while I try to push?!"). I don't know why, but I guess I had heard so many horror stories about tearing that I was more afraid of pushing than the contractions. Everyone said that was crazy, that pushing felt "good" and I needed to let that fear go. This didn't stop me from shaking (apparently shaking is normal in labor...something about hormones. Plus the epidural can do that. Plus I was freezing).

Anyways, we eventually decided it was time to start pushing!! Little did I know that pushing was not like television. You aren't constantly push, push, pushing without a break. You push a little.... wait... tell them you think you are ready to push again. The nurse was on one side, holding one leg and Tim was on the other side holding my other leg. Where was the doctor?! No where to be found. I was assured that she would come in shortly, but it was just the beginning so it was ok to push without her. I had little doubts scratching uncomfortably in the back of my mind. What about her supposedly being a big baby? What about her facing up? Has she turned yet? Am I doing this right? After about 30 minutes we decided my body wasn't quite ready and needed to "labor down" a little bit. Apparently my pushing wasn't quite good enough in the beginning--wasn't really ready for that one either. I guess I would have felt it more without the epidural, but I really was pushing a lot with my face.... I digress.

The pressure built up over those 30 minutes and we decided to try again. I pushed and pushed (and huffed and puffed) for about two hours. Where was the doctor? Nowhere to be found. Shouldn't someone besides this nice, really young nurse be checking me? Shouldn't she have come by? Has Lierre turned yet? During this time Tim and the nurse were both so very encouraging. Tim kept yelling at me to "get mad" because it helped me push better. They both told me they could see her hair and that thrilled me.... and terrified me that "the end" was so close.... and made me so impatient to hold my baby girl! We decided to take a little break from the pushing because so much time had passed....