Chronicle of Saya, Part 3: Deliverance
I've been remiss in posting the rest of my labor story. So here goes: After checking into my delivery room, the anesthesiologist stopped by to give me a nice little epidural cocktail. I was having a hard time handling the pain. As I leaned over during a contraction, he gave me a shot to numb my spine. The contraction hurt so badly, I didn't even feel the shot! Then he threaded the epidural catheter through my spine - that felt a little weird and cold, and there was some weird tugging, but it was fine. Not painful or scary at all.
The anesthesiologist was really funny. He was complaining about how a patient down the hall had called him "swarthy-looking" earlier in the day. He told me that I would feel better in exactly 23 minutes. Exactly 23 minutes later, my entire body was numb from the waist down, and I was chillin'. I was completely pain-free and feeling sleepy.
I talked to my family on the phone. I'd told them to come up to the Bay Area after work, but they were so cute...they all rushed to get up here, leaving L.A. by noon. My sister Maryn told me how when she got The Call from my mom, she freaked out and just ran out of her office.
One of the concerns with epidurals is that they can sometimes slow labor. Not so for me. Every hour or so, the nurse would come by, insert a finger (which I couldn't feel at all) and tell me I was dilated at least a cm. or more since the previous hour. I was amazed that all of this was happening without feeling a thing! I could see my contractions on the monitor but couldn't feel a thing. Kris was on his computer watching Weeds and making blog posts. I was zoned out and sleepy as the hours dragged on.
At noon, I remembered I had a conference call with my coauthors. They asked me how I was, and I told them I was in hospital, in labor, with an epidural, and was 5 cm. dilated. They were shocked, but I couldn't stop giggling. I felt great! Then, halfway through the call, the doctor came in and told me he wanted to break my water. It was great telling the folks on the telephone "I have to go. My water is breaking." How often do you have a great excuse like that?!
Michelle told me that the little stick that they use to break your water looks like the stick used by ancient Egyptians to remove the brain for mummification. And she was totally right! There was a poke (which I couldn't feel) and some amniotic fluid leakage (which I also couldn't feel) and it really wasn't a big deal at all.
There was a minor incident when my epidural "wore off" - meaning that the catheter displaced a little bit. I started feeling very intense contractions on one side. Kris started freaking out and then pushed the button to deliver additional painkillers through my IV twice, rather than once. I then started freaking out because he gave me a double dosage. He was like "I just hate seeing you in pain!" and I was like "What the *$#%# are you doing, double-dosing my pain medication when I have a little baby inside me! Don't mess around with the medication!" Then we called the swarthy anesthesiologist. He discovered that there was something wrong with the button and that I had not been receiving any IV pain meds, all along. He adjusted my epidural by re-threading it, and exactly 23 minutes later, I felt perfect again.
By 3 p.m. (6-7 hours after admission to the hospital), the nurse comes in, checks me again, and tells me that I am 100% dilated and fully effaced. She tells me to let her know when I feel like I need to push! In other words: let her know when I feel like I need to make the biggest poop of my life.
I waited...and waited. The problem was that my epidural was so strong that I couldn't feel anything. Even trying to lift my legs was impossible. They would just flop over, and I had no control over them. Finally, at around 4 p.m. I felt a little bit of pressure...kinda. It felt like the slightest bit of period cramp, just lower. I thought "Does this mean it's time to push?" I had no idea. So the nurse came in and said "Well, let's give it a try!"
Let me just say that this was SUCH a surreal experience for me. For some reason I guess I had always assumed in the back of my mind that I would end up having a C-section. I don't know why. But I never really thought that a baby would be coming OUT of me. There's no other way to describe it as anything other than an out-of-body experience...almost like it was happening to someone else.
The nurse told me that, the next time I had a contraction, I should push as hard as I could (using the same muscles you use to push out a big poo) while she counted to ten. Then I would take a big breath, push again for a count of ten, take another breath, and push again. I did this every 4-5 minutes for about half an hour, and felt absolutely nothing. I mean, obviously I've pooped before. And I know how to poop. But I could not feel anything, so I had no idea if I was pushing, how well I was pushing, and whether anything was happening. Every time I had to push, she would put her fingers inside and yell "PUSH MY FINGERS OUT! PUSH MY FINGERS OUT!" When I pushed well, she would say "GOODJOBGOODJOBJUSTLIKETHAT!" and when I didn't push well she would say "HARDERHARDERHARDER!" But I had no idea what I was doing, so I didn't know what made the pushes good or bad, or how to control them. Kris would hold my head up and pull my left leg back every time I had to push. He says he felt totally useless. As the nurse was doing her crazy coaching yell, he was like "Uhh...yeah! What she said..."
Now I should mention that, while I was pregnant, my worst fear was the pushing/crowning phase. For obvious reasons. But actually, with the epidural, it was no big deal. And...this sounds weird...but it kind of felt good to push. Every time I pushed, I felt some relief of pressure. So it was a pleasant surprise to me that I wasn't feeling terrible pain as a baby was coming out of me.
Finally the doctor decided to turn down my epidural a few notches so that I could feel my contractions enough and could be aware enough of my body to push effectively. I had basically spent an hour pushing, with very little progress (after an hour of pushing, most first-time moms have already given birth). I was afraid that I would feel pain, but I did not. I was more aware of a pressure sensation, but not a pain sensation. I started to feel the pressure of the contractions and was pushing as hard as I could. By 5:30 and an hour and half into pushing, I was feeling pretty exhausted.
At least they could see the baby's head. There was hair! Kris looked down there and saw the hair on the baby's head. The doctor asked me if I wanted to reach inside and touch the head. I said NO! I was too focused on the job at hand. And besides...how gross! I feel like this is one of those "new" things that has now become an expectation (like how fathers never even used to be in the delivery rooms, but now if they don't cut the cord, etc., etc., they're bad fathers). The doctor and nurse seemed a little upset that I didn't want to feel the head. Like I wasn't "into" the birth process enough. Anyway.
At 5:30 they started telling me that I could have the baby within 20 minutes. I was a little annoyed because the doctor kept telling me "You can have this baby whenever YOU want to." As if I was intentionally dragging it on because I didn't WANT to push it out badly enough. But his tough love approach actually worked for me. I respond MUCH better to negative reinforcement than positive reinforcement and his negative attitude made me angry and wanting to push. 20 minutes passed...and another 20 minutes passed. I kept looking at the clock, seeing time pass by in this surreal sequence, and would then look accusingly at the nurses and say "I THOUGHT you said I would have this baby in 20 minutes!" I don't know if they lied to me to keep me motivated, or whether they actually believed that.
By 6:00 I was so exhausted I could barely lift my head. Kris had to lift it for me. I could only barely nod to the nurses that it was time for me to push again, and they would lift my legs for me. Kris fed me ice chips and put cool washcloths on my forehead. At one point I felt nauseous and really annoyed about the washcloth placement, but I kept my cool and instead told him "I love you but I don't want to be touched right now." I felt really proud of myself for not being abusive (this was Kris's worst fear of my labor).
My parents and sister arrived at 6:15 or so. They thought they were going to miss the birth, but I was STILL pushing. Finally, around 6:30, I felt her head starting to crown. I didn't feel pain or the "ring of fire" or anything, but I felt an incredible, indescribable pressure in my lower pelvis. It honestly did feel like a giant poo - the size of a baby's head - that was stuck at the exit. I REALLY wanted to get it out but I kept pushing and pushing and could not. I started breathing really heavily because there was absolutely no relief from the pressure...the head didn't recede anymore so there was no way that I could breathe or move that would relieve it. I was trying really hard not to scream profanities. I broke out into a sweat, and tears were pouring out of my eyes from sheer exertion.
Then, I looked between my legs. The doctor (who has delivered 6,000 babies, btw) was looking at my girl parts with this look on his face that had "I sooo don't think this is going to happen" written all over it. I kept thinking he was going to tell me that I needed an emergency C-section. I felt him trying to stretch the opening. Then he would give a frustrated look, poke and prod a little more, and then sigh dejectedly. Not exactly the types of messages you want to receive from a seasoned professional. Seriously, where was his game face?
Finally, after I feel like an eternity (maybe 10 minutes?) has passed, he looks up and says, "I know you don't want an episiotomy and this is not routine, but there is no other way to get this baby out." I freaked out. According to Kris, I screamed "Just Do It!" although I have no recollection of this. I asked if he would numb me first. He said "Oh, don't worry. You're numb." Then I heard a snip. And another snip. And another snip. It sounded like someone was cutting through a very thick fabric.
I felt a wave of nausea pour over me. I yell "I'm gonna puke!" Kris grabs a bowl for me. I aim for it, but miss it completely as I projectile vomit all over myself. Two pushes later, I feel the biggest sense of relief in my ENTIRE LIFE as the baby - my baby - is pulled out of my body and laid on my chest, screaming her head off.
My first thought was "Oh, she can't lie here in my puke! It's not sanitary!" My second thought was "Oh my god, she's so big!" My third thought was "Wow! She looks SO Asian!" Then I was completely overwhelmed by the emotion, exhaustion, and surreality of the whole experience. I looked at Kris. He burst into tears. I burst into tears. We had done it! Our little baby, whom we'd dreamt about for so long, was here. I was in absolute shock that my body had successfully gone through labor and delivered a HUMAN.
The second she was laid on my chest, Saya pooped all over me. I was now covered in vomit, poop, blood, and amniotic fluid. It was a foreshadowing of our lives to come.
The anesthesiologist was really funny. He was complaining about how a patient down the hall had called him "swarthy-looking" earlier in the day. He told me that I would feel better in exactly 23 minutes. Exactly 23 minutes later, my entire body was numb from the waist down, and I was chillin'. I was completely pain-free and feeling sleepy.
I talked to my family on the phone. I'd told them to come up to the Bay Area after work, but they were so cute...they all rushed to get up here, leaving L.A. by noon. My sister Maryn told me how when she got The Call from my mom, she freaked out and just ran out of her office.
One of the concerns with epidurals is that they can sometimes slow labor. Not so for me. Every hour or so, the nurse would come by, insert a finger (which I couldn't feel at all) and tell me I was dilated at least a cm. or more since the previous hour. I was amazed that all of this was happening without feeling a thing! I could see my contractions on the monitor but couldn't feel a thing. Kris was on his computer watching Weeds and making blog posts. I was zoned out and sleepy as the hours dragged on.
At noon, I remembered I had a conference call with my coauthors. They asked me how I was, and I told them I was in hospital, in labor, with an epidural, and was 5 cm. dilated. They were shocked, but I couldn't stop giggling. I felt great! Then, halfway through the call, the doctor came in and told me he wanted to break my water. It was great telling the folks on the telephone "I have to go. My water is breaking." How often do you have a great excuse like that?!
Michelle told me that the little stick that they use to break your water looks like the stick used by ancient Egyptians to remove the brain for mummification. And she was totally right! There was a poke (which I couldn't feel) and some amniotic fluid leakage (which I also couldn't feel) and it really wasn't a big deal at all.
There was a minor incident when my epidural "wore off" - meaning that the catheter displaced a little bit. I started feeling very intense contractions on one side. Kris started freaking out and then pushed the button to deliver additional painkillers through my IV twice, rather than once. I then started freaking out because he gave me a double dosage. He was like "I just hate seeing you in pain!" and I was like "What the *$#%# are you doing, double-dosing my pain medication when I have a little baby inside me! Don't mess around with the medication!" Then we called the swarthy anesthesiologist. He discovered that there was something wrong with the button and that I had not been receiving any IV pain meds, all along. He adjusted my epidural by re-threading it, and exactly 23 minutes later, I felt perfect again.
By 3 p.m. (6-7 hours after admission to the hospital), the nurse comes in, checks me again, and tells me that I am 100% dilated and fully effaced. She tells me to let her know when I feel like I need to push! In other words: let her know when I feel like I need to make the biggest poop of my life.
I waited...and waited. The problem was that my epidural was so strong that I couldn't feel anything. Even trying to lift my legs was impossible. They would just flop over, and I had no control over them. Finally, at around 4 p.m. I felt a little bit of pressure...kinda. It felt like the slightest bit of period cramp, just lower. I thought "Does this mean it's time to push?" I had no idea. So the nurse came in and said "Well, let's give it a try!"
Let me just say that this was SUCH a surreal experience for me. For some reason I guess I had always assumed in the back of my mind that I would end up having a C-section. I don't know why. But I never really thought that a baby would be coming OUT of me. There's no other way to describe it as anything other than an out-of-body experience...almost like it was happening to someone else.
The nurse told me that, the next time I had a contraction, I should push as hard as I could (using the same muscles you use to push out a big poo) while she counted to ten. Then I would take a big breath, push again for a count of ten, take another breath, and push again. I did this every 4-5 minutes for about half an hour, and felt absolutely nothing. I mean, obviously I've pooped before. And I know how to poop. But I could not feel anything, so I had no idea if I was pushing, how well I was pushing, and whether anything was happening. Every time I had to push, she would put her fingers inside and yell "PUSH MY FINGERS OUT! PUSH MY FINGERS OUT!" When I pushed well, she would say "GOODJOBGOODJOBJUSTLIKETHAT!" and when I didn't push well she would say "HARDERHARDERHARDER!" But I had no idea what I was doing, so I didn't know what made the pushes good or bad, or how to control them. Kris would hold my head up and pull my left leg back every time I had to push. He says he felt totally useless. As the nurse was doing her crazy coaching yell, he was like "Uhh...yeah! What she said..."
Now I should mention that, while I was pregnant, my worst fear was the pushing/crowning phase. For obvious reasons. But actually, with the epidural, it was no big deal. And...this sounds weird...but it kind of felt good to push. Every time I pushed, I felt some relief of pressure. So it was a pleasant surprise to me that I wasn't feeling terrible pain as a baby was coming out of me.
Finally the doctor decided to turn down my epidural a few notches so that I could feel my contractions enough and could be aware enough of my body to push effectively. I had basically spent an hour pushing, with very little progress (after an hour of pushing, most first-time moms have already given birth). I was afraid that I would feel pain, but I did not. I was more aware of a pressure sensation, but not a pain sensation. I started to feel the pressure of the contractions and was pushing as hard as I could. By 5:30 and an hour and half into pushing, I was feeling pretty exhausted.
At least they could see the baby's head. There was hair! Kris looked down there and saw the hair on the baby's head. The doctor asked me if I wanted to reach inside and touch the head. I said NO! I was too focused on the job at hand. And besides...how gross! I feel like this is one of those "new" things that has now become an expectation (like how fathers never even used to be in the delivery rooms, but now if they don't cut the cord, etc., etc., they're bad fathers). The doctor and nurse seemed a little upset that I didn't want to feel the head. Like I wasn't "into" the birth process enough. Anyway.
At 5:30 they started telling me that I could have the baby within 20 minutes. I was a little annoyed because the doctor kept telling me "You can have this baby whenever YOU want to." As if I was intentionally dragging it on because I didn't WANT to push it out badly enough. But his tough love approach actually worked for me. I respond MUCH better to negative reinforcement than positive reinforcement and his negative attitude made me angry and wanting to push. 20 minutes passed...and another 20 minutes passed. I kept looking at the clock, seeing time pass by in this surreal sequence, and would then look accusingly at the nurses and say "I THOUGHT you said I would have this baby in 20 minutes!" I don't know if they lied to me to keep me motivated, or whether they actually believed that.
By 6:00 I was so exhausted I could barely lift my head. Kris had to lift it for me. I could only barely nod to the nurses that it was time for me to push again, and they would lift my legs for me. Kris fed me ice chips and put cool washcloths on my forehead. At one point I felt nauseous and really annoyed about the washcloth placement, but I kept my cool and instead told him "I love you but I don't want to be touched right now." I felt really proud of myself for not being abusive (this was Kris's worst fear of my labor).
My parents and sister arrived at 6:15 or so. They thought they were going to miss the birth, but I was STILL pushing. Finally, around 6:30, I felt her head starting to crown. I didn't feel pain or the "ring of fire" or anything, but I felt an incredible, indescribable pressure in my lower pelvis. It honestly did feel like a giant poo - the size of a baby's head - that was stuck at the exit. I REALLY wanted to get it out but I kept pushing and pushing and could not. I started breathing really heavily because there was absolutely no relief from the pressure...the head didn't recede anymore so there was no way that I could breathe or move that would relieve it. I was trying really hard not to scream profanities. I broke out into a sweat, and tears were pouring out of my eyes from sheer exertion.
Then, I looked between my legs. The doctor (who has delivered 6,000 babies, btw) was looking at my girl parts with this look on his face that had "I sooo don't think this is going to happen" written all over it. I kept thinking he was going to tell me that I needed an emergency C-section. I felt him trying to stretch the opening. Then he would give a frustrated look, poke and prod a little more, and then sigh dejectedly. Not exactly the types of messages you want to receive from a seasoned professional. Seriously, where was his game face?
Finally, after I feel like an eternity (maybe 10 minutes?) has passed, he looks up and says, "I know you don't want an episiotomy and this is not routine, but there is no other way to get this baby out." I freaked out. According to Kris, I screamed "Just Do It!" although I have no recollection of this. I asked if he would numb me first. He said "Oh, don't worry. You're numb." Then I heard a snip. And another snip. And another snip. It sounded like someone was cutting through a very thick fabric.
I felt a wave of nausea pour over me. I yell "I'm gonna puke!" Kris grabs a bowl for me. I aim for it, but miss it completely as I projectile vomit all over myself. Two pushes later, I feel the biggest sense of relief in my ENTIRE LIFE as the baby - my baby - is pulled out of my body and laid on my chest, screaming her head off.
My first thought was "Oh, she can't lie here in my puke! It's not sanitary!" My second thought was "Oh my god, she's so big!" My third thought was "Wow! She looks SO Asian!" Then I was completely overwhelmed by the emotion, exhaustion, and surreality of the whole experience. I looked at Kris. He burst into tears. I burst into tears. We had done it! Our little baby, whom we'd dreamt about for so long, was here. I was in absolute shock that my body had successfully gone through labor and delivered a HUMAN.
The second she was laid on my chest, Saya pooped all over me. I was now covered in vomit, poop, blood, and amniotic fluid. It was a foreshadowing of our lives to come.
