On arrival and registration, the nurse confirmed that I was indeed hanging out at 5 centimeters and sent us out for an hour long walk. So walk we did.
I wasn't optimistic when we came back, seeing as I didn't feel much different after walking around for an hour. I was convinced that we would be sent home and the waiting would continue for another night. So I was rather surprised when the nurse announced that after my walk I was dilated to "between 6 and 7 centimeters." After that, there was no going home - not with how far we lived from the hospital.
For the next few hours we played a waiting game of another sort: the nurses monitored my contractions, I worked on sudoku puzzles, and we all waited for the obstetrician to arrive. When at last he came, there had been no progress other than the baby having dropped a bit lower. At that time the OB broke my bag of waters.
Up to this point I had been leaning against using an epidural for the pain. I wanted to see how long I could make it without using drugs for the sole reason that I didn't want the medication to cross the placenta into the baby's bloodstream. Being the paranoid mama, I didn't want anything to affect breastfeeding. Dr. Google had told me that an epidural can sometimes make a newborn too groggy to feed right away and thus interfere with establishing breastfeeding.
Well, part of the joy of giving birth in a rural area is that you only have so many anesthesiologists to choose from when you go to the hospital. I could wait for the on-duty anesthesiologist to get out of surgery, or I could have them page the on-call anesthesiologist to come in and administer the drugs. If I waited too long, the on-duty guy would go home and the on-call guy might not arrive in time, so I had 0.91 seconds to make my decision. In retrospect I know that this is a load of crap, and in fact the nurse told me that I didn't have to make my decision right at that moment...but with amniotic fluid oozing out and the contractions getting stronger it sure seemed like I needed to make that decision right away. I opted for the meds. The nurse assured me that usually it takes 15 minutes for the on-call guy to arrive.
Well, I waited. And the contractions started getting stronger. A lot stronger. I practiced breathing through them like you see in the movies. I learned that breathing like they do in the movies doesn't really work by itself. I cursed myself for not going to any child birthing or Lamaze classes. I got really, really grumpy.
Two and a half hours later the on-call anesthesiologist arrived for the epidural. Inserting the tube into my spine was...an odd feeling. I later described it to my husband as the feeling you might imagine a metal pole would have when it's struck with another metal object. It felt...tinny. I squeaked when the medication went in...and then my legs and lower abdomen got very warm and the pain went away. Except for a patch in the lower right area, near my pelvis. DAMNIT. A hot spot. I got to experience labor both with AND without pain medication.
And then...we waited some more. After some time there had still been no progress since the 7 centimeters of dilation, so the doctor ordered Pitocin. All I have to say about Pitocin is thank God I had that epidural. Except for that one hot spot. Those contractions came on hard and they came on fast...so of course that was the time that my mother started sending the text messages.
Mom: "Are you OK?"
Me: "Yes"
Mom: "Can I call?"
Me: "No hurts 2 much 2 talk."
Mom: "Any progress?"
Mom: "How far are you dilated?"
Mom: "What does the doctor say?"
Mom: "Hello?"
Mom: "Do you think the baby will be born tonight?"
Here is where I threw the phone at my husband and hissed "Call my mother."
I found out shortly that this was Transition. By the time my husband got off the phone with my mother, having assured her that I was not hemorrhaging to death in the delivery room, it was time to push.
The doctor strode in.
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