I went into labor Thursday morning around 10am. Our birthing class instructor had told us to continue about the day like normal for as long as possible, so I did. I took my shower. I tested my blood. I ate breakfast as best I could even though I really wasn't hungry at all. I hadn't packed my hospital bag yet, so I pulled up the list on my computer and started packing. While I was packing, Tracey IM'd me asking how things were going. I told her I was having contractions and was trying to pack my bag and had dishes I needed to do. She offered to come over and do dishes for me. I was having some trouble focusing on what I was doing with the contractions interrupting me every few minutes and there were a lot of dishes to do. So I told her to go ahead and come over if she wanted to.
I tried timing contractions, but they weren't regular like I thought they'd be so I was hesitant to call my doctor. Tracey and Andrew both told me to just go ahead and call. At 1:30 I finally decided that although they were anywhere from 2-5 minutes apart and didn't seem to be lasting a full minute long, they were pretty strong so I must actually be in labor, so I went ahead and called. The nurse I talked to asked if they were too strong to walk and talk through. I was still able to walk and talk through them, but I really thought I was in labor, so I didn't tell her that; I just said that they were "pretty strong". Since I had never had a cervix check (my next appointment was supposed to be Friday), she told me to come on in and they'd check me out.
I was so nervous about going in. I was sure they'd take one look at me, tell me it was false labor and send me home. They hooked me up to the monitors when I got there and I was having pretty strong contractions. Then the doctor came in and asked how dilated I thought I was (he joked that I might be at 6 cm and I was like, that'd be nice but I seriously doubt I'm more than 2 or 3). Then he checked me and goes "You're at 8 cm." I thought he was joking and just stared at him and was like "What?". He repeated himself and showed me how big 8 cm was with his hands because he seemed to think I didn't understand what he was telling me. I was just kind of in shock. I might have managed a little "Oh.", but I'm pretty sure I mostly just stared blankly like he was speaking another language to me or something. He told me we should head straight to the hospital. (We'd left our bags at home because I figured I hadn't been laboring long, so we could always just come back home and get them.)
As we were all walking out the door he asked what my plan was as far as pain management. I told him that I would probably want an epidural but that I wanted to go as long as possible without anything.
On the way to the hospital, we called our parents and told them to spread the word that I was in labor and already dilated to 8cm and we were on our way to the hospital. And we called Angie and Megan to let them know that they could head on over whenever they were ready to join us. When we arrived the nurse asked us if there were people we didn't want in the room. I told her there were two girls coming to join us for the delivery, but everyone else could stay out. She seemed surprised. We asked Tom to go to our house and bring us the bag that I'd almost finished packing and a couple little things that hadn't gotten into the bag yet. So we allowed him in. And for some reason both of our parents ended up in our room at some point, but didn't stay for long.
They asked me again about pain management and I repeated what I'd told my doctor. They put a heparin block in my hand "just in case" they needed to start an IV. I warned the nurse that I have difficult veins, but that did no good. It took her two or three tries and she blew the vein on the left hand before she finally got it in on my right hand.
I thought it was weird that I was 8 cm dilated and 100% effaced but wasn't in terrible pain. The nurse kept asking where I'd put it on a pain scale and I was like "…maybe a 2 or a 3...I've had period cramps way worse than this." So I walked around and used the birthing ball and rocked in the rocking chair while they hooked me up to monitors intermittently to make sure everything was looking ok. His heart rate stayed steady the entire time. I remember them commenting frequently saying things like "This is usually when the heart rate drops." or whatever, but my baby seemed unphased by this whole labor thing and just chilled with me through it all.
Around 7:20 pm the doctor finally came in to check my progress and break my water. I was still only 8 or 9 cm dilated at that point. So he broke my water.
The nurse, Helen, was concerned that the baby's head was crooked in the birth canal and may not make it out easily if he didn't turn all the way. She had me get on my hands and knees to try and get him to turn, but that was definitely not the position we were meant to be in. My knees, hips and back were just killing me in that position and the weight of the belly made it feel like my abdomen was going to drop off onto the bed. Out of nowhere I started vomiting. My sister handed over a hair-tie, which Andrew promptly dropped into my puke bucket while he tried to tie my hair back as I vomited. I don't know if they rinsed that one off or found another but he did get my hair up. The nausea passed as quickly as it came and I lay back down since the hands-and-knees position seemed to be making things harder on me and the baby wasn't budging anyway.
It wasn't long before I moved into transition phase. Helen was great and helped me reposition so I could best deal with the pain. She pulled out the squatting bar so I'd have something to lean against. And every time a contraction hit I'd sit up in a squatting position and lean against the bar. Transition was certainly the roughest part of the whole ordeal, though I don't think I'd rate it a full 10 on the pain scale. I tried my best to breathe through contractions and took great pleasure in relaxing between them. At some point during transition (in the middle of a contraction, no less), Andrew asked me if I wished I'd had that epidural yet. I remember shaking my head and gasping out "No." Nobody else ever asked me and honestly, I never even thought about it. I just breathed through contractions as best I could and relaxed fully in between.
Then I started feeling the urge to push. Helen checked me and said there was still a little bit of cervix left. I had a couple more contractions during which I really felt like pushing (and did a little bit while I was squatting against the bar--I couldn't help it!). Then I told her again that I really felt the need to push. So she checked me again between contractions and called for the doctor to let him know I was going to start pushing.
Then with the next contraction she had Andrew hold my right leg while she held my left and I started pushing. (The doctor still wasn't there.) I remember feeling relieved to be at the pushing phase finally. It was so much more comfortable than transition. The contractions didn't really hurt anymore, there was just an immense pressure like I was taking the biggest poop of my life. I remember thinking I'd have rated transition at a 9 on the pain scale and pushing at only a 5 or a 6. The nurse watched my first push and said something like "Oh, wow." And called for the doctor again because the baby was coming fast. She assured me that I was a great pusher and I think I had one more push and one more panicked call from Helen to the doctor before he finally came in to see me crowning.
In the middle of the first push the doctor watched he mentioned something about the perineum (my sister later told me he was saying that the baby's head was against the perineum) and I panicked thinking he was going to do an episiotomy because I'd never discussed a birth plan or let anyone other than Andrew know that I would rather tear than be cut. I remember finishing my push and then asking "What?". They told me to "Nevermind." and that I was "doing great." I was really angry that they wouldn't just answer me and treated me like I wasn't there when I was the one in the middle of this, but another contraction came so I focused on the pushing instead of yelling at my doctor.
On push 4 I felt the baby's head start to exit the birth canal, but then the contraction faded. I knew I should probably wait for the next contraction to help me out, but decided I didn't want to wait. So I started to sit back as the contraction faded, then instantly thought "NO, we are NOT doing this." and scrunched back up and finished pushing the head out hoping no one had noticed that the contraction had ended. It was such a relief to have the head out. The shoulder push was easier and once they passed it was like everything just rushed out of my body in this warm gelatinous flood.
After 19 minutes and 6 pushes (my sister said she only counted 5, so I'm pretty sure the nurse counted the head push as 2 because she was reading it off the monitor afterwards and I'd relaxed a bit when the contraction had faded), Lukas Andrew Nordman came into this world at 9:04pm on Thursday, January 21, 2010. His poor little forehead and nosey were bruised from coming through the birth canal so fast (and crooked--he never did bother to straighten out) and he had almost no "cone head". He measured in at 8 lbs 2 oz and 20.5 in long. He scored a 9 and a 9 on his APGARs.
Andrew got to cut the cord and then Lukas was passed up to me for slimy cuddles and kisses.
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