This Is Not Her Birth Story

This isn't her birth story yet. But it didn't feel right to lump it all into one story.

I didn't want to write this story, let alone share it, but I want to remember it because 

There's something{s} to be learned from this, and I don't think I've learned it {them} yet.

Written early morning July 7th

A little background: My sweet mom has a job that allows her to work from home when needed. She was able to work out a way to take two weeks and come stay with us and work while she's here. A huge blessing l wasn't sure we'd get since we live so far from home. My sister and her husband, and my step dad all made plans to come out for the 4th of July. I was so excited. I knew she'd be here. Throughout my pregnancy, there were moments when I got a glimpse into how much I already loved this little girl. And I'd have panic attacks that she wouldn't get to feel the love my family has for her, because she'd barely be around them. They were coming for a week when she'd be brand new and fresh. Picturing them all passing her around and snuggling her made my heart swell. This is where this story starts. 

It gets going again around June 13th, when I was almost 38 weeks. My entire body broke out in the most insane rash. Every inch of my body itched, and I itched till I bled. Nothing helped. After a bit of research and having just talked to a friend that had had it, I found that I had PUPPPS. A rash that doesn't go away until your baby is born. This rash left huge welts on my arms, blistered my fingers so badly that I couldn't bend them, and I had little blood spots ALL over my side of the bed from where I'd scratched too much. I was miserable. At my 38 week appointment, we saw the other doctor in the practice and he was so confused. He had heard about the rash, but had never seen it before. It's really rare. And even rarer for a woman carrying a girl to get it. I asked about being induced on my due date to get rid of it, and he said for sure. No problem. Instantly, I knew my family would get an entire week with her. This was better news than knowing this horrid rash would disappear too. Doc prescribed Benadryl and oatmeal baths for relief. (I was also at 1cm and 75% effaced) 

And they worked. Mostly. You couldn't see the rash very well after a few days, but I was still insanely itchy. 

On Friday, June 19th Derek and I decided to go see a movie as our last date night pre-baby, and we'd both been dying to see Inside Out. I'd been having Braxton Hicks on and off, but nothing consistent. Until our movie. I could tell the contractions were coming pretty frequently, so I downloaded an app while trying not to blind everybody in the theater. They started as cramping in my lower back and made it extremely difficult to breath. Every 7 minutes and 30 seconds. Almost like clock work. Excited was an understatement. I let my mom know and she made plans to come out earlier than planned, but would of course come as soon as we knew "this was it." I went to bed that night, and woke up to..... No contractions. 

I had a few contractions off and on on Saturday, and they picked up again Sunday night at 8 minutes apart. Mom wanted to wait until after our OB appointment on Tuesday to start driving, and that was the plan. 

On Monday, mom was so excited. So many things she'd needed to get done had fallen into place for her to come later Tuesday or on Wednesday. She was so sure Nora was just waiting for her. I was feeling so guilty because my contractions were 6 minutes apart nearly all of Monday and were causing me to double over in pain every few contractions. I was so crampy and uncomfortable. Mom was so excited and I didn't want to burst her bubble that she might come sooner and mom would have to miss all the things that had fallen into place. Mom of course was not upset, planned out everything she could for Tuesday morning, and planned to head out ASAP on Tuesday. I fell asleep that night and woke up to.... No contractions. 

Knowing mom was on her way, I felt so guilty that they'd just stopped. But mom was sure I'd progressed and my OB might send me to the hospital anyway. But I'd only dilated a half cm more. 1.5. And to top that off, this doctor was not on the same page with the doctor from the previous week. He could barely see my rash. I felt so silly asking to be induced on my due date when he couldn't even see it. But he said he was positive he'd see me in the hospital in a few days, so I didn't even bother to ask. Feeling slightly panicked that my worst nightmare of having my family here and my baby not would come true, we left the office and Mom arrived a few hours later. 

On Wednesday, mom was determined to get labor going. She looked up reflexology and she and Derek went to town on my pressure points. Mom had her thumbs dug into the arch of my feet so deeply I was screaming and arching my back in pain. The doc had said to get my breast pump out (awkward) to get things going as well. My cousin had told me that she used Clary Sage oil to get her contractions to be stronger, so of course we tried that. And at about 8:30, I was sure it had worked. We went for a walk and I walked along the curb with one foot on and one foot off. When we got home, contractions were still at 4 min and slightly painful. Not nearly as painful as I had expected, but I thought maybe I was just lucky. Either way, we packed up the pilot and headed to the hospital. When the nurse, this tiny little Asian man, checked me, I was at a 3. 1.5 cm change!! I was so excited! He said he'd monitor me for an hour and check again. My contractions were still coming, but didn't look very big. And of course, there was no change after that hour, so we were sent home. I was sad, but figured so many first time moms come in and get sent home. He told me to expect spotting. And spot I did. And cramped I did. I fell asleep moaning in pain and woke up to..... No contractions. 

I was starting to feel a little frustrated and defeated and this is when all the "baby yet?" questions started to roll in. Derek and I struggled with infertility for 18 months. I always got so frustrated when women would complain about going over their due date or how uncomfortable they were leading up to it. At least they could have a baby, ya know? And I was suddenly feeling so much guilt over how frustrated I was feeling, and felt like I couldn't talk to some of my closest friends. But I think this is one of the lessons I needed to learn. "Be kind. Everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." Just because I can and am having a baby right now, didn't make this any easier. I was exhausted and on a huge roller coaster. Each night thinking this night I'd be a mom, and then waking up not one. I struggled the most each morning I woke up when I realized we hadn't needed to go to the hospital and that I wasn't still contracting. We would start over that day. And there were points where this definitely didn't feel normal. I felt like my body could start labor, but couldn't kick over to active labor. And I started to lose faith in my body's capability. I have a thyroid disease that messes with my hormone balances.... My body may not be able to do it by itself. 

I wanted to have my baby and be back home and settled before all of my family got here. But that came and went. My sis and her husband got to my house on the 27th, the day before my due date. And it was the same story. Contract hard and consistent at night, nothing in the morning. We walked a lot, jogged, skipped, jumped on the tramp, drank raspberry tea, took evening primrose oil both ways, sat on the exercise ball, went to the beach and walked on the sand, everything we could think of. And it would work.... Until I slept. I was ready to stop sleeping, but knew that wasn't smart. I was getting depressed. My sister has been my rock throughout life. My sister getting to meet my baby when she was brand new was strangely the most important thing in the world to me that week, and we were running out of time. 

Tuesday came around, and I had an OB appointment scheduled because my doc had said to just in case, but he was sure I wouldn't make it. I went in, and was still a 3. While checking me, he asked if I wanted my membranes swept and of course I said yes. He said it sends 70% of women into labor. He scheduled my induction for Sunday and they let me know they could call anywhere between 5 am and 10 pm and I'd have an hour to get there. Not being able to get an epidural made the idea of an induction horrifying. I was determined not to get there. 

Same story continued. Contractions that stopped when I slept. Thursday rolled around and I had all but given up. My sister was leaving on Sunday and I'd finally come to terms with the fact that she wouldn't get to meet her. We were playing a board game as a family and right after I took my turn, I had the biggest melt down yet. They all took time off and out of their busy schedules to come be with my little girl. And I couldn't get her here. I wasted their time. My dream of having just a week where my little girl would be loved on was gone. It wasn't going to happen. Derek was able to calm me down and I decided to give up any hopes of her coming before my induction. I could look forward knowing I'd for sure see her Sunday.

On Friday, we decided a day trip to the beach was in order. And to be honest, it was the last thing on earth I wanted to do. But decided we needed to so that I could feel less guilty about wasting their time off. I had this hope that my water would break while there since it would be so inconvenient. It didn't. But my contractions were painful and walking felt like it was definitely doing something. 

Saturday was the 4th of July. My favorite holiday. And I had so been looking forward to having a day of barbecuing and hanging out with family and my little one. I had bought her the cutest little outfit. Everybody kept telling me how cool it would be to have a baby on the 4th and all I could think about was how much I didn't want that. Of all days to have her, this was not the day I wanted. But figured with my luck, it would be. I decided that while I hated the idea of it, I knew I'd be happy if she did decide to show up. And Bay would get to be with her for a minute before leaving. That suddenly became the goal. We were out in town grocery shopping and my mom and sister convinced me to try castor oil. I did research and after weighing pros and cons, I decided it was better than the pitocin I'd be receiving the next day if the castor oil didn't work. I put it some in cold rootbeer and chugged the nasty stuff down. Don't put it in anything cold. Horrid idea. The oil gelled up and it's just.... not good. I took a nap after. We barbecued. And we headed to the base's 4th activities. We set up my camping chair and I started noticing painful painful painful contractions that I literally could not talk through. I was so excited. They didn't start out super consistent, but did have a consistent pattern. 8 min, then 4, then 8, then 4 for about 45 minutes. Finally, right before the fireworks started, they stayed at 4. By the time we left the field, they were 3.5 minutes apart, had lasted over an hour, I couldn't talk or walk through them. Text book go to the hospital moment. I was ready to throw up I was in so much pain. So we rushed home, packed the Pilot, Derek gave 3 blessings to me, my sis, and her hubby really quickly, and we were off. They stayed at 3.5 minutes and our conversation died for the entire minute each of them lasted. I tried to talk through them, but literally could not even get the wind to do so, and I had to focus. I was suddenly feeling so silly for going to the hospital the last time. I knew then that those were not real labor contractions. These ones were and I kept telling Derek "they won't send us home this time! A night to remember!". We checked in and the nurse put my monitors on. She checked me. Still a 3. And I suddenly knew where this was going, but had hopes. After looking at my chart coming out of the printer, she said I hadn't had any contractions in the 10 minutes she'd been in there. And I panicked. What in the world was I feeling then?! She moved my monitor and suddenly, there the contractions were. Off the charts and when she asked me my pain scale, she told me she believed me. They were big. She said she'd check me again in an hour. Outside my triage curtain was a lady screaming in pain and nurses were working so hard to help her. Knowing I probably couldn't get an epidural and having practiced all the Hypnobirthing techniques, I wanted to stay calm and relaxed. It took so much strength to make it through those contractions but I didn't want to lose my cool too early. I worried that the nurse had no idea how much pain I was really in. She came back in and checked. 3. No change and we were going home. I thought Derek was going to chew her out. And it took everything I had not to cry. I didn't want to drive 45 minutes home to have to come back right after. And I'd followed the guidelines. 4-1-1. What was I supposed to wait for now? I felt so strongly that I just needed a bit of help getting my cervix to dilate and I'd be golden. I prayed so hard they wouldn't send me home. But I got dressed and we walked out. The second we got out, I lost it. I sobbed so hard that no tears came out but I was drooling out of my mouth non stop. I couldn't believe this was happening. This was supposed to be it. This was the last possible time so that Bay could still meet her. I didn't understand why we couldn't stay since I'd be induced in the morning anyway. We got in the car and I sobbed on the phone to my mom the entire way home. She's a saint. We got home and I bled quite a bit and cramped way more than normal and my contractions were not letting up. I got in a bath and then was able to fall asleep and woke up to..... No contractions. 

The feeling in the house Sunday morning was so depressing. Nobody talked. It was not how we saw the last week going at all. We called Labor and Delivery to find out my status, and I was 7th on the list. We were told it wouldn't be that day. And I nearly lost it again. I'd given up all hope knowing I could rely on Sunday, and it wasn't going to happen. I couldn't even handle it. I was emotionally and physically exhausted. Sunday was the longest day ever. We just lounged around as time dragged on. We finally got up for a walk, and suddenly my belly felt heavier than ever and I was having a tight pinching pain. But I couldn't get my hopes up. None of this felt fair. Of all the birth stories I've read, it should have happened way before this moment. I've been terrified of not getting an epidural and the fear was just being dragged out. I felt helpless. And confused. And defeated. And embarrassed. All excitement of meeting her was gone. I didn't know how I'd have any strength to make it through labor and delivery. 

Monday came and we called for an update. 3 people ahead. We called a little later. 2 ahead. She said it'd be Monday night for sure. We called a few more times and there was no change. We went out to dinner and watched Suits to get my mind off of things. We finally called about 10 pm and there was 1 person in front of me. I was not handling any of this well. I felt cheated. Nobody told me that my Sunday induction could have potentially been dragged to Tuesday. I was livid and mad and not enduring any of this well. I cried, I screamed, I threatened (empty of course. What could I possibly do?) 

Tuesday morning at 4 am, we called and were told I was next on the list. 9 days overdue when we thought she'd be almost a week early.......