Warning: graphic labor language ahead including but not limited to: cervix, dilation, placenta, mucus plug, etc. If you are a guy, you may not want to read this (at least my husband wouldn't).
On Tuesday of the week I delivered Juliet, I was in my OB's office complaining of bleeding and irregular contractions. After a quick cervical exam, she hastily sent me to Labor and Delivery for a 24 hour observation because I was dilated to 1 cm (which is too early to be doing at 32 1/2 weeks) and apparently had been losing my mucus plug. The hospital did an ultrasound, found that my cervix was still long (I guess it shortens the closer you get to labor), observed my contractions for 4 hours and released me with instructions to "not put anything up there" (exact words from the doctor which I take to mean don't have sex. Hmm. Just what I was in the mood for). The one thing I heard over and over is that this is my third pregnancy and my body is probably just doing things earlier.
Over the next two days, the bleeding got heaver, I began to feel pressure and decided to call an advice nurse again. This was Friday morning after Bible Study and right before we were to take off to Lincoln City for the weekend. The advice nurse didn't like the symptoms she was hearing, so she advised me to once again come to Labor and Delivery. I politely asked Colin to wait for me to be released (which I knew I would be) before he left for the coast. As I walked into the hospital, who did I run into but Colin's aunt and uncle, Emanuel and Cynthia. Unfortunately for them, they asked me one too many times how I was doing and if I needed company and I broke into tears. Oddly enough, it's the only time I have cried in this entire experience. They sat with me in the triage room as my contractions were monitored and after awhile they left for home because everything looked normal. In the span of 1 hour, I had more than six contractions and two VERY aggressive cervical exams (the kind that feel like they are stripping your membranes) which revealed me to be only at 1 cm still. The doctor released me saying that this is my third pregnancy (in case I wasn't aware of that) and these are probably just uterine irritations. With that reasoning in my head, I headed home and advised Colin the trip was still on and we headed to Lincoln City.
Over the next few hours, the contractions became the sort I had to breath through. I figured they were just the uterine irritations the doctor referred to (and probably aggrivated with the exams) and prayed they would go away. Soon, sitting on the couch watching TV became incredibly uncomfortable and I began to ask myself if we should be looking up the Lincoln City hospital address. At bedtime, Colin and I layed down in this big beautiful bed with an amazing storm outside, but I knew I wouldn't be sleeping that night with this kind of pain. At 10:45 p.m., I jumped out of bed, put my shoes on and informed Colin we needed to get to Portland. I'm not sure I mentioned that Colin had food poisoning, so you can imagine how he was feeling. With a sick husband and a snow storm brewing outside, we headed for Portland. At one point during the drive we hit blizzard like conditions and Colin had to pull over to throw up while I was having contractions every 4 minutes on the dot. The ENTIRE way from Lincoln City- do you know how many contractions that is?! It's really not very comfortable to labor belted into a sitting position. The only thing I could do was breath and shift around in my seat to try to find a comfortable position. Didn't happen when my body was contracting and writhing in pain. The pain became so bad that I couldn't do anything but stare at the speedometer and hope Colin could read my mind to drive beyond 50 mph. It was actually too painful to speak. Soon I began to break a sweat with each contraction and figured they wouldn't be able to give me any medicine to stop this labor - we were closer to Portland at this point and the Sunnyside exit off 205 couldn't have come soon enough. When I arrived, I was bent over in pain and they got me right in. After checking me, the doctor's eyes became like saucers. "You are fully dilated". Finally - everyone jumped into action! They called the Panda team (the team from OHSU that transfers NICU babies to a better facility - in this case St. Vincent) and rushed me to the OR. The doctor informed me that I wouldn't be getting an epidural, but after a bit of pleading, I did receive a couple of small doses of Phentenol to "take the edge off". I was suddenly in the OR surrounded by many people in scrubs, including my husband, and I'm am informed to not push until the Panda team arrives. Before I know it, it's time to deliver three pushes later, my baby is out. She cries briefly and then I don't see her except for a couple of minutes in an incubator before she leaves the hospital. She, Colin and the Panda team rush off to St. Vincent. At this point, the doctor had to give me a good dose of pain relief, because my placenta wasn't coming out. She literally had to pull it out with her entire hand (but only after she had to search around for it for about 20 minutes). I might say this was as painful as childbirth. That "take the edge off" pain relief didn't do jack for me. After all is said and done, I am transferred to a quiet room to recover, alone. I didn't have energy to make any phone calls and the people back at the beach house actually thought we were still sleeping in that room. Eventually I was transferred to St. Vincent and saw my sweet baby in the NICU. I have to admit that for a couple of days, she really didn't feel like mine. She was theirs. I couldn't breast feed her or even hold her. I would just pump in my hospital room and bring the milk down to the NICU and ask how she was doing. Slowly, she felt more like mine once I could hold her. Now, she feels completely like mine.
So, that's my labor story. It's not pretty and we really have a different view of Kaiser, but I did get a sweet baby out of the whole thing.