My labor story was nothing like the women you hear of who gave birth in a toilet bowl or in the car. I noticed I had some leakage (more like a drip), so I called my OB-GYN and spoke to the physician assistant. She informed that it was probably discharge (I apologize if this is TMI). When it continued into the next day, I suspected something was up and called again. This time, they told me to come to their office. I was informed that I lost a significant amount of amniotic fluid and needed to go to the hospital.
To be completely honest, I wasn’t thrilled with the timing. My due date was August 8th, and it was August 2nd (which is my wedding anniversary). I joked with my husband throughout my pregnancy that the baby would want to arrive on our anniversary, and apparently it was a self-fulfilling prophecy. I knew this would be the last time I’d get to celebrate my anniversary fully (because her birthday would be the same or next day), so I tried to convince my husband to stop for a quick anniversary meal on the way. Shockingly my request was denied, and we rushed to the hospital.
my Labor and delivery
I was not dilated at all, so they had to give me Petocin. All this did was speed up my contractions, but still no dilation. Seventeen hours into my labor I had dilated 3cm and I had a fever. My husband kept commenting on how my body was shaking from the contractions. Nurses kept coming in to ask me what brought me there (seriously?!). The anesthesiologist administered the epidural manually on four separate occasions.
My theory is that my body realized that in order to survive I was going to have to dilate, so I finally dilated 7cm after TWENTY-ONE hours of labor (on top of 24 hours of a high water leak). By 23 hours and change, I was fully dilated. My OB-GYN (who came highly recommended) was texting on her phone when it was time to push. I decided I was getting that baby out of me with or without her help (which clearly I wasn’t getting), and I delivered my daughter after 30 minutes of pushing. The complications I had after delivery are another story, and perhaps one I will go into at another time (or perhaps I’ll just spare you the gory details).
our nicu experience
My husband and I had decided we would not find out if we were having a boy or a girl in advance. Everyone (myself included) thought that I was having a boy. We had picked out a definitive name for a boy, and had a couple of names for a girl. When we looked at our daughter for the first time, we knew this was our Brielle.
I didn’t know it at the time, but my daughter was not breathing after their first attempt, and it took a good twenty seconds before she started to cry. My husband did not get to cut the umbilical cord, and she was rushed to the NICU because they thought Brielle might have an infection due to my fever. My husband and I were the only visitors allowed to see her at the hospital.
When I finally made it to the NICU, I was informed that my daughter’s blood sugar level had dropped. Unfortunately, they had to give her formula before I arrived. I had wanted to breastfeed her for her first feeding, but unfortunately, that was not in the cards. I was able to feed her the next time though. After two days at NICU she was deemed healthy and we took her home.
It is unbelievable to think that my labor story took place almost eight years ago. I am able to look back at it now and laugh, but it was anything but funny at the time. That experience seems like it happened yesterday and also a million years ago. Giving birth to a child is a great representation of parenthood; it brings you unimaginable pain, but also brings you unimaginable joy
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