Esther's Birth -- Part IV
Introduction
Part I
Part II
Part III
There are so many details to this miraculous story, and I don’t want to forget any of them, so although some information might seem trite or irrelevant to you (and you may be ignoring this section of my posting altogether due to the fact that it’s all expository and not much else), I’m including them because they fit into my story like a magnificent puzzle. Each piece coordinates with the other piece.
As contractions began late Thursday evening, I hit the treadmill in hopes of increasing their frequency. After a 30-minute workout, I went to bed in a vain attempt to get a little rest before the big event. I’ve heard of women who have done this and actually slept a little. Ridiculous. The contractions were becoming very intense, and my adrenaline would not allow me to lie down for long. By 3:00 am Friday morning, I was heading down to the hospital with my husband and my mom. And let me just say that I was terrified. I wasn’t scared of the pain; I had endured so much pain with Abby’s labor that I knew I could handle whatever my body threw at me in that arena. I was scared of failure. I was scared of a repeat of Abby’s birth. I imagined the baby getting stuck in the birth canal, with her head out but the rest of her body wedged inside of me. I didn’t know what the doctor could do in that circumstance. I was afraid of death. After wading through all the warnings that every doctor had given me along the way, I wondered if my uterus might actually rupture and if I might be one of the rare patients who would suffer fatal consequences. I feared for my baby girl’s life as well. For me it was like facing death itself and still continuing along this uncertain path. I knew He had me in His hands, but what did He have in store for me? For this particular path? We can’t predict what He is going to do and for what purpose He does it.
When I got to the hospital, I was already dilated to 5 or 6 centimeters. I was also very dehydrated, hadn’t had a whole lot of water that day (unusual for me), so they pumped me with tons of fluid, and my epidural had to wait until I was well hydrated. This wasn’t a big problem for me, though. Unlike during Abby’s labor, I had no pain in between contractions, so I wasn’t in very much pain comparatively, at least in my opinion. I remember the nurse was astounded by this; she asked me several times if I have a high pain tolerance because mothers who were this far along were usually complaining of more pain. By 7 centimeters they gave me the epidural. It made me shake uncontrollably for about an hour, and it completely deadened my lower half. It also impaired my judgment; it was almost like I was high on street drugs minus the actual high feeling (not that I have any experience in this area to even know what I’m talking about). I was having trouble following conversations and keeping up with all that the nurses were telling me.
My entire labor and delivery road the fence between c-section and VBAC. My doctor came in several times throughout, and every time, she brandished a different conclusion on what she recommended. Most of the time she leaned heavily in favor of c-section, wanting to be as cautious as possible with two lives hanging in the balance. I told my nurse, Marla, I had read an article in a La Maze magazine that the hospital gave me weeks ago that recommended if I was going to have an epidural, that I should request to “labor down,” which basically meant, I would wait until my body was completely dilated and until I was completely ready to have this baby before pushing. No premature pushing. She and my doctor both gave me a thumbs-up on this.
The epidural-induced shaking actually brought my temperature up a little, which also caused the baby to get a bit of a fever. It also seemed to slow down the dilation. I hadn’t progressed more than 8 centimeters in several hours. Dr. Gollin suggested 1 cc of pitocin. I was fiercely opposed to it at first because of a transcript I had completed for my mom of a Loma Linda nurse who was testifying in regards to a woman who had delivered via VBAC with the administration of pitocin, and she had ruptured, causing permanent damage to her baby. So Dr. Gollin left to order the OR be prepped for c-section. However, that same nurse my mom had met at the deposition weeks before happened to be in the hospital the day I delivered. My mom actually called to see if she was there; she had just gotten back from vacation that exact morning and came to see me in my room. She disarmed my fears with regards to pitocin and said that a little wouldn’t hurt anything, as long as the doctor monitored it very closely. So Dr. Gollin called off the c-section and ordered the administration of 1 cc of pitocin with the intention of increasing it 1 cc every half hour or so and not to exceed 4 ccs. I never had another dosage of pitocin. With that 1 cc of pitocin, my body was kicked into gear and fully dilated within the hour.
Part I
Part II
Part III
There are so many details to this miraculous story, and I don’t want to forget any of them, so although some information might seem trite or irrelevant to you (and you may be ignoring this section of my posting altogether due to the fact that it’s all expository and not much else), I’m including them because they fit into my story like a magnificent puzzle. Each piece coordinates with the other piece.
As contractions began late Thursday evening, I hit the treadmill in hopes of increasing their frequency. After a 30-minute workout, I went to bed in a vain attempt to get a little rest before the big event. I’ve heard of women who have done this and actually slept a little. Ridiculous. The contractions were becoming very intense, and my adrenaline would not allow me to lie down for long. By 3:00 am Friday morning, I was heading down to the hospital with my husband and my mom. And let me just say that I was terrified. I wasn’t scared of the pain; I had endured so much pain with Abby’s labor that I knew I could handle whatever my body threw at me in that arena. I was scared of failure. I was scared of a repeat of Abby’s birth. I imagined the baby getting stuck in the birth canal, with her head out but the rest of her body wedged inside of me. I didn’t know what the doctor could do in that circumstance. I was afraid of death. After wading through all the warnings that every doctor had given me along the way, I wondered if my uterus might actually rupture and if I might be one of the rare patients who would suffer fatal consequences. I feared for my baby girl’s life as well. For me it was like facing death itself and still continuing along this uncertain path. I knew He had me in His hands, but what did He have in store for me? For this particular path? We can’t predict what He is going to do and for what purpose He does it.
When I got to the hospital, I was already dilated to 5 or 6 centimeters. I was also very dehydrated, hadn’t had a whole lot of water that day (unusual for me), so they pumped me with tons of fluid, and my epidural had to wait until I was well hydrated. This wasn’t a big problem for me, though. Unlike during Abby’s labor, I had no pain in between contractions, so I wasn’t in very much pain comparatively, at least in my opinion. I remember the nurse was astounded by this; she asked me several times if I have a high pain tolerance because mothers who were this far along were usually complaining of more pain. By 7 centimeters they gave me the epidural. It made me shake uncontrollably for about an hour, and it completely deadened my lower half. It also impaired my judgment; it was almost like I was high on street drugs minus the actual high feeling (not that I have any experience in this area to even know what I’m talking about). I was having trouble following conversations and keeping up with all that the nurses were telling me.
My entire labor and delivery road the fence between c-section and VBAC. My doctor came in several times throughout, and every time, she brandished a different conclusion on what she recommended. Most of the time she leaned heavily in favor of c-section, wanting to be as cautious as possible with two lives hanging in the balance. I told my nurse, Marla, I had read an article in a La Maze magazine that the hospital gave me weeks ago that recommended if I was going to have an epidural, that I should request to “labor down,” which basically meant, I would wait until my body was completely dilated and until I was completely ready to have this baby before pushing. No premature pushing. She and my doctor both gave me a thumbs-up on this.
The epidural-induced shaking actually brought my temperature up a little, which also caused the baby to get a bit of a fever. It also seemed to slow down the dilation. I hadn’t progressed more than 8 centimeters in several hours. Dr. Gollin suggested 1 cc of pitocin. I was fiercely opposed to it at first because of a transcript I had completed for my mom of a Loma Linda nurse who was testifying in regards to a woman who had delivered via VBAC with the administration of pitocin, and she had ruptured, causing permanent damage to her baby. So Dr. Gollin left to order the OR be prepped for c-section. However, that same nurse my mom had met at the deposition weeks before happened to be in the hospital the day I delivered. My mom actually called to see if she was there; she had just gotten back from vacation that exact morning and came to see me in my room. She disarmed my fears with regards to pitocin and said that a little wouldn’t hurt anything, as long as the doctor monitored it very closely. So Dr. Gollin called off the c-section and ordered the administration of 1 cc of pitocin with the intention of increasing it 1 cc every half hour or so and not to exceed 4 ccs. I never had another dosage of pitocin. With that 1 cc of pitocin, my body was kicked into gear and fully dilated within the hour.
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