Peyton's birth: Play by Play

I didn’t think it would take this long for me to write about the labor and delivery of Peyton, but I have been functioning on so little sleep lately that I haven’t had the energy to sit down and write about it. This is a long post, but if you keep reading there are some funny moments along the way. Here is my attempt at recording the event…a full two weeks later.

Tuesday, April 8
8:00 am: I go to Baylor to teach my first Professional and Technical Writing class. I could barely stand up because I’m feeling a lot of physical pressure from baby Peyton, which I just chalked up to typical pregnancy pains (although it was a lot worse than I had felt before with him).

9:30 am: I teach my second course for the day and make sure that my students are ready for when I leave. Still feeling major pains when walking.

11:30 am: I leave Baylor, pick Shane up, and together we go to my doctor’s appointment where I find out I am dilated to a 3 and about 50% effaced, which is no change from the last time I went to the doctor 4 days before. Peyton is still very high up on my belly, and he has not “dropped.” The c-section is still scheduled for Thursday, but the doctor senses our desire to have a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean, in case you were wondering) and tells us that if we want to cancel the c-section, we should just give her a call.

1:00 pm: We get back home, and I am so exhausted and miserable that I go take a nap. I had a phone call scheduled with a colleague at another university to discuss some research we are doing, but I email her and cancel, citing exhaustion and pain, and ask if we can reschedule for tomorrow (ha!). I go to sleep without knowing whether or not she got the cancellation or not.

3:00 pm: I wake up from my nap to the sounds of Shane screaming, “Elizabeth, where are you?” I go back to sleep (oops), and next thing I know Shane is waking me up, giving me Elizabeth who is crying, and he is hobbling around with blood rushing out of his toe. This is a long story, but apparently Elizabeth locked Shane out of the house and then got scared and got lost in the garage. In the meanwhile Shane was running around the house and stubbed his pinky toe on our driveway. The skin came off the top and it started gushing blood. Did I ever mention that I’m a deep sleeper?

3:30 pm to bedtime: Elizabeth went swimming today in a pool I bought her. It’s a bit bigger than the one she used last year, and Shane rigged it so that she could slide down the slide on her swing set right into the pool. She had a blast playing for a couple of hours. I sat on the swing and watched her.

No walk today because I hurt so badly.

At 7:05 pm, I post on my blog that I’m “overdue” and bemoaning the fact that he didn’t come on his due date, just like his sister. I also figure I’m going to have a c-section, but I pray to God that he will send me into labor (since I cannot be induced).

10:30 pm: Shane and I get in bed, but I keep waking up about every 10 minutes. I feel some contractions, but I don’t think anything of them because of the false alarm last Friday. I also don’t want to get my hopes up, so I keep lying there trying to get some rest. Rest doesn’t come, however. 10:45, 11:00, 11:15,…same as before. Contractions are coming. They hurt really bad. I can’t get comfortable. I change positions, but the contractions hurt just as much no matter how I’m lying down. I stand up, and they don’t hurt as bad. I finally tell Shane I’m having some contractions, but like me, he doesn’t think that it’s labor (me? Going into labor? Unfathomable!). I try to get more sleep. (On a side note, the whole time all of this is going on, I’m thinking that I shouldn’t bother Shane with all that’s happening because he has to do a funeral for a relative of his tomorrow morning in Hamilton (an hour and a half away), and I want him to get some sleep, even if I’m not. And this is probably not the real thing anyway, so I need to let him sleep.).

Wednesday, April 9
12:30 am: Still awake. I decide to take a bath in hopes of finding some release from the pain. Shane turns the bath on for me, and I hop in. I only stay about 5 minutes because the pain hurts worse in this position. I get out of the bath and decide to go downstairs and feel the pain by myself.

1:00 am-2:00 am: I sit on the couch and watch some TV. I also play a game of hearts and spades online. Doing this at least takes my mind off the pain (well, somewhat). With each contraction, I’m able to pause and breathe through the pain. They hurt pretty bad, but at least I get a break from them. I’m learning how much contractions really, really hurt. I’m still not sure this is it, though, and so I stay downstairs. (BTW, I did time my contractions, but I didn’t find this a reliable method because some were 1 minute apart and others were 3 or 4 minutes. Also, I had timed my contractions last Friday and they were coming every 2 minutes (when I wasn’t in labor), and so I gave this method up.

2:00 am: I go back upstairs and tell Shane that I think I’m in labor. He is really, really out of it, and I want to let him sleep, so I don’t press him too much. He rolls over but stays asleep. I don’t really know what’s going on, so I tell myself to go back downstairs and wait a while longer until I’m sure.

2:00 am-3:00 am: I go back downstairs and pick up where I left off with the TV and the game-playing and the breathing through the painful contractions. They are becoming more and more painful with every minute.

3:00 am: I’ve had enough. I’m going to the hospital. Even if THIS isn’t IT, at least I can find out what’s going on and maybe take something for this pain. I feel anxiety about going to the hospital because I’m sure I’m not in labor, but it’s worth a try. The worst thing they could do is send me home. And I’m also thinking that if I’m not in labor, at least Shane can still make it to his funeral in time (I’m thinking: “If I wait too much longer, he won’t make it at all.”). I go back upstairs and tell Shane he needs to take me to the hospital. It takes him a while to figure out if I’m serious, and he even questions the wisdom in going to the hospital when I’m not sure I’m in labor (hey, I can’t really blame him), but I persuade him to get out of bed and get moving.

3:00 am-3:50 am: Even though our bags were packed and we were ready to go, it still took us (or, shall I truthfully say, Shane) a full 50 minutes to leave. I am in immense pain and desperately want to get to the hospital as fast as we can, but Shane is a mess. He’s trying so hard to hurry, but he’s not operating that quickly. He tries calling the family that is on stand-by for Elizabeth, but they are not answering their phone. Now we aren’t sure what we are going to do with her. I guess we’ll take her with us to the hospital. Shane is not too excited about THAT idea. Shane is still doing something (to this day, I’m not sure what he was doing that took so long). I’m in even more pain and trying not to get frustrated about us not having left yet. Shane is apologizing that it’s taking him so long.

3:50 am: Elizabeth is loaded up in the car, and we both get in. Shane has decided that he is going to go over to that family’s house and bang on their door until they wake up. I wanted him to drop me off at the hospital first because it would take at least 20 more minutes, but we didn’t. Elizabeth is wide awake and wondering why I’m breathing “so funny.” Shane tells her that I’m in some “pain” because of the baby, and she keeps chatting away. As we are backing out of the driveway, Shane runs over the curb, and the baby about pops out of me right then and there. He apologizes profusely.

4:00 am: Shane comes to a red light. Nobody is around, and I calmly tell him to “just run it.” He does.

4:10 am: We arrive at this family’s house, and I warn Shane not to stay and talk (he has the tendency to do this with them). No sign of Shane for about 5 minutes and then lights come on and he finally stirred them (Their phones were in the other room). Shane came back out to the car to get Elizabeth. As he’s getting her, he slams the car door into a post in front of their house. He is really frantic right now (and a bit klutzy). We tell Elizabeth goodbye and leave for the hospital.

4:20 am: We arrive at the hospital and have to enter through the emergency room because all the other doors are locked. They give me a wheelchair (thankfully), and I’m off my feet (yay!). Shane pushes me down the long hospital corridors (just like in the movies—hee hee), finds the elevator, and up we go to the fifth floor.

4:30 am: We check-in at the front desk and I tell the nurse that I think I’m in labor but that I’m not really sure. She was a bit confused because we had a c-section scheduled for the next day but then I told her that I was trying for a VBAC (if I was actually in labor). And that’s when the chaos began. It was like I had a mark on me saying, “VBAC alert.” The nurses went into a frenzy and began frantically scattering about. I heard one nurse say, “We have a VBAC. Get her into the room closest to the OR in case she has an emergency.” Another nurse said, “We need to notify the on-call doctor ASAP.” Apparently they have to have a doctor on the floor at all times when there is a VBAC.

5:00 am: Nice Nurse takes me into a side room to see if I’m in labor. She says my contractions are 2 minutes apart (wow! I knew I was in pain) and that I’m dilated to a 5 and effaced 80% (When I was induced with Elizabeth, I was a 2 and 0% effaced, so at least I’m making more progress with him. I only ever got to a 6 with Elizabeth and stayed 0% effaced, which is why I ended up with the c-section).

5:15 am: I go to another room (close to the OR, of course) and get hooked up to all these monitors. I immediately ask for an epidural and Nice Nurse says that I could get the epidural after they’ve drawn my blood and got me hooked up to all those machines. What?!! I need that epidural NOW!! Major contractions continue, but Nice Nurse teaches me how to breathe through them. These breathing techniques really work. I wish I had learned more about how to do them. I guess there’s no better time to learn them than when you will put them to use immediately! Shane holds my hand.

5:45 am: I call my mom and let her know what is going on. She was going to come up tomorrow for the c-section but now she will work half a day and drive up today.

6:00 am: Shane calls his parents to give them the update. They are on their way, even in the midst of tax season. What wonderful parents/in-laws! Sorry the little guy couldn’t hold off until the 16th, Granbarry!

6:45 am: Ahh, yes, the epidural has arrived. But I am still in A LOT of pain. How long does it take for this thing to work?

6:50 am: Nice Nurse tells me how wonderful she thinks it is that I’m delivering this baby via VBAC. She was so excited for me and very proud, too. Her words gave me a new strength and determination.

7:00 am: New nurse comes on duty. I will refer to her as Encouraging Nurse. She checks me and I’m between a 7 and an 8, 90% effaced. Encouraging Nurse reminds me how to breathe and is a good example for my sweet husband and what he should say to me. I say goodbye to Nice Nurse, and she promises to come by tonight when she comes back to work. I’m still feeling contractions.

7:05 am: The on-call doctor comes in (for the rule that a doctor has to be on the floor at all times, I find it odd that the first time I see one is 2 ½ hours after I’ve arrived at the hospital). I haven’t met him before. Male doctor gives me the “You could die if you choose to have a VBAC” speech, telling me that there is a big risk for me and the baby and that one out of 200 women…, and that the baby could..., and that it could end in a c-section anyway…blah blah blah. Shane and I tell him that we still want to do the VBAC. He wants to know if my doctor has given me “permission” to have a VBAC, and I tell him that we have discussed it and that we were having the “wait-and-see” approach before we decided whether or not to have a c-section. He seems to sigh but doesn’t have much choice in the matter (apparently he thinks my doctor is an idiot for letting me try). He checks me and says I’m dilated to an 8 and 100% effaced. He also checks my tummy to see how big the baby is. He predicts the baby is between 7 and 7 ½ pounds. I’m still feeling contractions. When is the epidural going to work?

7:15 am: The epidural is NOT working. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. I ask Encouraging Nurse if there is anything we can do for the pain. She goes to get the anesthesiologist. He is with someone else right now. No! No! No!

7:20 am: Encouraging Nurse also tells me how proud she is of me that I went ahead and tried for the VBAC. Her words came at the right time.

7:30 am: The anesthesiologist comes in. New anesthesiologist. It’s the same one I had with Elizabeth. Yippee. I really like this guy. He gives me a dose of something else and this time my legs actually go numb. Yay. I can’t feel the pain. Finally. Some rest. Remember that I’m operating without any sleep from the night before.

8:30 am: My doctor arrives (finally!), and she is so excited that I’m in labor. (She’s really a great doctor.) When she checks me, I’m a 10 and 100% effaced. Wow. I’m “complete.” Cool. Lots of pressure from baby Peyton. This may be TMI for you, blog reader, but at this point they bring in the mirror, which I wanted to have. Whoa! Very different from a c-section.

9:00 am: I begin pushing. I didn’t have to do this the last time around, so it was a whole new experience for me. They tell me what to do and where to push. The epidural is working really well (maybe too well) because I can’t really feel what I’m doing. Shane is a real trooper (even with his agonizing toe, which he never mentions to me until afterwards how much pain he was experiencing. Did I mention that I have a wise husband?!!).

Some time between 9:00 and 10:10: I get discouraged that this pushing thing isn’t bringing this baby out. When will he cross the threshold? Will this still end up in a c-section? Encouraging Nurse tells me that I’m doing a great job pushing (I really needed the encouragement right then) and that the baby must have a really big head. The epidural is beginning to wear off, so I can feel a bit more of what I’m doing, which is really good at this stage in the game. I give one last push, and Encouraging Nurse yells, “Stop! Stop! Stop! We have to call the doctor. The baby is crowning.” Yay!!

10:10 am: Encouraging Nurse pages my doctor, but she doesn’t come. We keep waiting. Another page. Wait. Another page. Wait. I thought it was about 15 minutes we had to wait, but Shane told me later it was only 5 minutes. Really? Time obviously passed very slowly due to the pain I was experiencing. Baby’s head looks weird and small.

10:15 am: Doctor comes in and is excited about what she sees. Four additional nurses come in. Doctor gets dressed up in all her gear. Room is ready for delivery. They bring in that machine for babies in case the baby needs to be hooked up, and I inwardly pray that Peyton will not have to use it. I try to focus on pushing this baby through the canal.

10:28 am: Peyton Poe Alexander enters the world. The first thing the doctor says is, “This baby weighs at least 8 pounds.” 8 pounds?!! No wonder I’ve been so huge! Shane cuts the umbilical cord and then my doctor places Peyton on my chest. He’s beautiful. Baby’s head looks really weird. It looks like a golf ball is stuck inside the back of it. They tell me this is called “molding.” Baby has blue eyes. Baby responds to my voice and looks up at me. Shane and I stroke baby while the nurses suction out his nose and throat.

10:35 am: Nurse weighs Peyton. She shouts out his weight: 9’1”! WHAT?!!! Whoa, baby. And 22 inches long. Really? That’s a BIG baby. All I could think was, “No wonder. No wonder” Oh, and I did feel a little pride and satisfaction in the fact that I VBAC’ed a nine-pounder. Who wouldn’t, right?!! I actually did it. Thank you, God, for allowing me to deliver a healthy baby boy and to do so through VBAC. Thank you also, reader, for your prayers.

Afterwards: Many nice people came by to see us and brought us gifts and food. We were released from the hospital on Friday morning.

And the rest of the story is yet to be lived out.