If you get squeamish about such activities as birthin' babies, I'd advise you to read no further.I had an appointment Wednesday, October 1st, at 1pm to have a routine non-stress test done since my due date was Sunday and they just wanted to make sure all was well. Of course baby girl was just fine. The doctor came in to see me afterward, pronounced me "a good 3.5cm dilated" and stripped my membranes for the third time in 2 weeks. She offered to schedule an induction for Friday, but I told her that as much as I was ready to be done being pregnant, if there wasn't a medical reason to induce; I'd rather just wait and let her be born when she was ready.
I went home, crampy from the stripped membranes, but not hopeful about it turning into anything significant. I went about my normal afternoon activities, getting the girls down for naps, tidying up the house as much as physically possible with a huge uncomfortable belly in the way. By the time Andy came home from work around 6pm, the cramps had turned into mild, yet recognizable contractions. But since I'd been having contractions off and on for weeks, I decided not to get too excited and just wait and see what happened.
We all went to church at 7pm, and right as Bible class was about to start I had an undoubtedly REAL contraction that stopped me in my tracks. Woo hoo! How exciting! I was a little too hyper to sit through class (no offense to Kevin Shaw who was teaching), and wanted to stay upright and walk around to help things progress, so I hung out in the foyer and chatted with a few people. The contractions were a regular 10 minutes apart, and were definitely getting stronger. After class got out, I asked Stephanie if she was available that night to watch the girls, just in case I was really in labor (I was still refusing to get my hopes up). She of course was more than thrilled to be on call for me, and made Sam Deitch her standby in case I needed someone to watch the girls past 6am when Stephanie had to go to work.
Andy was fighting off some kind of illness and when Andy' sick, the best medicine for him comes in the form of Arby's – so we stopped there after church. I decided to forego the grease just in case I'd be having a baby later on (and Arby's isn't really my favorite anyway), so I just had a milkshake. We got home around 8:45 and Ronnie and Andy were asleep in bed before 9:30. I tried for about an hour to cuddle Alexa to sleep – but she was wiggly and I was having some serious contractions – they were about 8 minutes apart, and starting to become extremely uncomfortable. Having a 2 year old climb over you while you're in labor is NOT the most pleasant thing in the world, so I had to wake Andy up to help me out. It was just as well, because I was pretty confident we'd be leaving for the hospital in a little bit anyway. He went ahead and got dressed and put my hospital bag in the car. When my contractions were about 6 minutes apart, I called good ol' Stephanie who had sensibly brought her phone to the poolside with her while swimming at the gym, and she rushed to get ready and come over. I called the hospital to let them know I was coming, kissed my sleeping Veronica and my still wide-awake baby Alexa goodbye and toilfully headed to the car.
The hospital is only a 5 minute drive down the street, but by the time we got there, the contractions were about 2 minutes apart and walking through the parking lot took an excruciating amount of effort. Every few steps brought on a new contraction, and we were a little lost as to how to find the third floor from the emergency room exit (the front doors were already locked for the evening). Luckily, a Good Samaritan in the form of a random nurse going home for the evening offered to escort us to the third floor.
It was about 11:30pm when I made it to triage on the maternity floor, where they assess if you're really in labor or not before they send you to a birthing room. It took me about 10 minutes just to change into a hospital gown, because my contractions were coming one on top of each other. Clearly I was in labor – and starting to transition, even! They checked me – 5cm, good, good. And then they proceeded to take my temperature, blood pressure, and ask me a million ridiculous questions – all of which I had already answered in my paperwork that I'd filled out weeks ago. Wasn't that the whole point of filling those things out early, so I would be able to focus on birthing my sweet baby girl?
Around 12:30am they finally, FINALLY, deemed me ready for a room. I wrapped a blanket around me and focused on doing my best to just make it one foot in front of the other down the hallway. Walking from the triage station to room 317 was terrible. All I could do to cope was lean against Andy or the wall until it passed and then take as many steps as fast as I could for the 30 seconds until the next contraction came. I finally rounded the corner into the room - its dim lights and jacuzzi tub looked very inviting because I knew I was finally going to get to settle down and concentrate on doing what my body needed to do!
However, the doctor on call, Dr. Stegman, had deemed my blood pressure "too high" (It was something like 140/88 – really not that bad for someone in active labor!) and said I needed an IV, or at least a heparin lock just in case my blood pressure spiked. I asked if they could just skip it and let me get in the tub so I could RELAX, please please please.
They said no, they absolutely needed to get the IV needle in. They tried to get me to lay down on the bed, and I simply couldn't do it. The contractions were going nonstop and even though I was trying to remain as calm as possible, I couldn't get my arm in a "proper position" long enough for them to get the needle in. I tried kneeling on the floor with my head on the bed and my arm outstretched over it…I was honestly trying to help them do their work, even though I felt it was absurd and counterproductive, I knew they were just following the doctor's orders. They tried over and over and over to get that needle in, and it just wasn't working. Because I wasn't allowed to get in a comfortable position, the contractions were causing me to be in an overwhelming amount of pain and I absolutely didn't have to be. It was heartbreakingly frustrating because I knew the only reason I was in this much pain was because I simply wasn't allowed to just relax and focus on doing my job! I started to cry and said it wasn't fair – but knew I had to snap out of that unproductive mindset and just do the best with the circumstances I had.
I asked if I could get IN the tub and hold out my arm out and maybe they could get the needle in then because I'd be in a much better position to relax. Hallelujah, the doctor approved of that, and getting in the tub was absolutely wonderful! I changed into my tankini top because it was much more comfortable than that ugly gown and I also couldn't relax unless I was at least halfway modest! The contractions were still powerful and constant, but with the hot water running and the water jets hitting my back and feet, I was able to tune out the nurses who were kneeling on the bathroom floor still attempting to get the heparin lock in my hand. Poor Andy later told me he had to leave the room because he couldn't take watching them poking my arm over and over again. But I was finally in a position where I was in complete control of the pain of the contractions, able to concentrate on the whole point of why I was there – the unbelievably joyful fact that I'd be meeting my precious baby girl soon! At last I was mentally capable to think and pray and even smile and not be concerned with hospital procedures or anything else except bringing this baby girl into the world.
I wasn't in the tub long before I began feeling quite a bit of pressure. "Does it feel like you have to go to the bathroom? Is it rectal pressure? Do you have an urge to push?" they asked. "Yes," I lied. Forgive me, but I just told them what they wanted to hear because I wasn't going to argue with them – I was pretty sure I was either fully dilated or pretty close to it and it was time to get into pushing position. I'd never had an "overwhelming need to push" with either of my other babies, and with this being my third time doing this, I knew my body well enough to be able to follow its lead.
I got out of the tub, and aside from the crazy contractions, I felt like a bit like royalty because I had three nurses gathered around, toweling me off so I wouldn't slip or be cold. I remember saying something in between sounding through my contractions like "you guys are sweet for doing this." They explained that they were just doing their job. I'm sure I sounded a little weird.
Without the comfort of the tub, the contractions came on full strength again, but without the barrage of nurses poking at me, I had gained the ability to completely mentally and physically relax and managed to make it to the bed, falling into whatever position felt right, which ended up being curled up on my right side. I heard the nurses in the background talking about trying to get the heparin lock in, and I looked at my hand and although it was covered with gauze and tape from where they'd stuck me a gazillion times, I realized they still had never managed to get that thing in. Wow. Dr. Stegman made his appearance in the room and told them to just not worry about it anymore as I was about to have the baby anyway. He checked me and sure enough told me I was over 9cm and if I let him break my water, I'd probably go immediately to 10cm and could push any time I wanted. For some reason, I asked him what time it was (again, I'm sure I sounded really weird), and he said 1:15am, and then told him to go ahead and break the amniotic sac.
Dr. Stegman was a calming, grandfatherly figure, and didn't try to overtly manage my labor, but instead asked me what position I wanted to birth in. I told him whatever happened, happened, but preferably on my side so I could relax better and reduce the risk of tearing. He asked very nicely if it was at all possible, if I could get on my left side, because that made things easier for him, but if that wasn't possible, we'd work around it. I found the energy to roll over and made myself comfortable on my left side, probably because he'd asked so nicely. ;)
Knowing that I didn't have to worry about laying still for heparin locks, and armed with the fantastic knowledge that my baby girl would be here pretty soon – I found absolute peace. Of course the contractions were still incredibly painful, but my mind was truly over the matter. I just laid there and concentrated on the task at hand – and held onto Andy's wonderfully comforting, familiar hand that I know so well. Grasping his arm was overwhelmingly soothing – it's amazing how calming the recognizable smell of your favorite laundry detergent in your husband's shirt can be. I about broke his fingers as I squeezed them through contractions, and kissed his hand and was filled with extreme gratefulness to be married to this amazing guy who is exactly what I need in a partner in every way.
I wanted to be truly relaxed and prepared before the REAL work began, so I waited and breathed through a couple of contractions before I decided to push. I was shaking pretty badly at that point, not out of fear or pain, but just because that happens in labor sometimes, it's really nothing alarming. I thought it was a little funny because everyone thought I was really cold, and tried to cover me up. But I knew it was a sign that things were about to be on their way, so I was filled with grateful anticipation!
At the next contraction, I relaxed all my being and focused every bit of my energy on my abdominal muscles and…WOW! I was so surprised how much one push could do! She was definitely in the birth canal and I tried to tell the nurse "She's coming, she's coming!" but I probably sounded like I was speaking in tongues because of the mix of emotions and overwhelming physical sensations going on. I remember trying to imagine what was going on inside of me, and even though I'm pretty experienced at this birth thing, the thought of a real, full-size baby hanging out in there waiting to be pushed out still baffles my mind. God's design is nothing short of amazing.
With the next contraction, she began to crown, and I waited through another contraction to push again, so I wouldn't tear. With the next contraction, the top of her head began to come out…and then I waited for another contraction and….nothing! Another one wouldn't come!!! Except for some extreme burning sensations, I wasn't in any pain and figured my uterus was finished doing its thing. It was a pretty bizarre, surreal moment with everyone standing around quietly, while I was calm with a quarter of a baby head making its way out. Mostly to get to meet my baby girl sooner, but also to cut the awkwardness, I told everyone "I'm not going to wait for another contraction; I'm just going to push anyway." They said okay, I pushed twice, and out she came at 1:34am on October 2nd, 2008! She cried immediately and I was overcome with every positive emotion that exists, elatedly exclaiming "She's here! She's here, she's here, she's here!!!!!"
I cuddled her on my tummy while they waited for the cord to stop pulsating and I just stared in awe. I felt fantastic. Dr. Stegman asked Andy if he wanted to cut the cord, but he declined (he thinks it's a little gross, and I can understand why), and then Dr. Stegman asked me if I wanted to cut the cord. I laughed and said no, but now looking back think I should have said yes - I mean, how many people get to cut their own cord? Oh well.
As soon as the cord was cut, I held that precious little Penelope Drew Gaskin close and Andy took the picture you see above. I tried to nurse her, to help release oxytocin and get the placenta out faster, but she wasn't interested right away. Dr. Stegman asked if he could give me a Pitocin shot in my thigh to get the placenta going, and by that point I was just ready for everything to be over with and be left alone with my sweet baby, so I said sure. The placenta came out and I guess the adrenaline rush exemplifies your personality traits, because the "I'm curious about EVERYTHING" part of me took over and asked to see the placenta, because I'd never gotten to see one before. Dr. Stegman was thrilled to give me the run down and showed me the placenta, the amniotic sac, the cord and its three vessels, etc…I found it absolutely fascinating to see that otherwise yucky blob that sustained my little girl for all those months. Again, God's design just leaves me in awe.
After the placenta was inspected and I was checked out and pronounced healthy, I was left alone with my amazing Andy and my sweet, sweet Penelope! I tried nursing her again and this time she took to it right away. Her eyes were big and observant and I couldn't get over how much she looked like her big sister Veronica. I made the 2am phone calls to Andy's mom, sister, my parents, brother, and sister while Penelope was weighed and measured: 7lbs, 15.6 ounces and 19 inches long. She was just so perfect. I felt fantastic, Penelope was fantastic, so I sent Andy home around 2:30am to be with his big girls.
I still can't believe she's here, and that she's just so healthy and perfect. Why God chose to mercifully bless me with three amazing little girls to guide and raise for His glory is beyond my comprehension – I can't truly express how grateful, humbled, and in AWE I am.
