Shocked isn’t even the best word to describe how Barry and I felt a we walked down the hall to our hospital room – the room that was meant for us to go through a life changing experience in, the room that was meant for us to greet our daughter, the room that we’d spend hours in awaiting the arrival of something that we made together.
Apparently we lucked out with the room because it was the corner suite that is typically used for twins to be born, staff members use it and people request it. It was huge and had a sweeping view of Lynnwood – lucky us! In the distance you could look and see the mountains if the cloud cover was just right.
Since my water had broken and we weren’t sure how long it had been the concern was that there was only a short amount of time to get Maggie out before the risk for infection became a concern. So, much to my chagrin, pitocin was started to get my body to start laboring again.
At this point we met our nurse, Teryl, as she came onto her shift. She was cheerful and made sure that we were comfortable. Phone calls had been made to our parents and siblings and people were on the way to the hospital. Brian, hearing that we’d been checked in, left work immediately and came to hang out with us. He came in and sat and talked with us as if it were normal for me to have contractions in between bits of nonsense conversation.
As I stood beside the bed and waited for each contraction to come Barry was next to me making me laugh and rubbing my back, feeding me ice chips to ensure that I’d get through each one. As the drugs kicked in the contractions did as well and boy, they hurt! I kept trying to describe to Barry what they felt like and each description seemed to contradict the previous one, so I stopped.
My body decided – or maybe it was the pitocin – that it didn’t want to give me a break in between contractions, which made for long contractions and short,short breaks. By this time my mom had arrived at the hospital and was in and out checking to see my progress and also going to HBHQ – where Barry’s parents were – to check in on The Syd.
After a couple hours of standing by the bed contracting, I transitioned into bed and proceeded to have the most awful contractions yet. Up until this point I’d been able to listen to Barry and focus, but suddenly the pain became unbearable and difficult to withstand. I was 5 cm dilated and the idea of breathing through the pain to get to 10 cm really didn’t sit well. Yelling, crying and trying to breathe did nothing to soothe the pain that embraced my body. Four contractions in five minutes….oh, the pain.
I decided to get an epidural.
Barry and I had talked at length about this choice over the last months and, although not ideal, after feeling a few hours of labor pains, it suddenly seemed like a fantastic option. While we waited for the anesthesiologist the conversation was minimal, as Barry held onto my hand and coached me through the painful cramping.
The anesthesiologist came to our room looking like he was fresh out of high school and remarked to us that we got the best room. By this time he arrived and set up shop I was more than ready to have some of the pain dissipate . I felt somewhat wimpy, but also knew that continuing on in the state that I was in wasn’t ideal for me.
Hunkering down with Barry holding my hands and the young doctor behind me – Nurse Teryl was busy re-doing my IV – I proceeded to be still long enough for the good doctor to poke a scary hole in my back. Of course the epidural didn’t kick in right away, so I continued to contract and Barry continued to feed ice chips into my mouth.
Eventually the epidural set in and I was, again, back to feeling like I was myself again, still feeling the contractions, but not in pain. Hallelujah! Around this time Barry’s parents made an appearance along with my mom, Flip was still at home mowing the lawn and would head down later in the evening. Alison Krauss and The Dixie Chicks played quietly in the background as we waited for things to speed up.
Speed up they did – Nurse Teryl had to leave and Trish became our new nurse. Trish is a large, blonde woman that is in the line of work that she is meant to be doing. She was AMAZING. All the nurses were amazing, but Trish basically delivered my baby and did a bazillion other things that I never imagined nurses would need to do.
The doctor came and checked on me again and announced that I was 7 cm dilated, which meant that Baby Miller would soon be with us! Dr.Rogers looked at me and told me to rest up because I had a marathon coming up and she was going to go rest up and she’d see me soon.
Jump a few hours and a few more pop ins from the moms – and eventually Trish informed me that it was time to push. She also informed me that – TMI alert – having a baby is a lot like pooping a pumpkin. I have never pooped a pumpkin, so I really had no frame of reference, but in case you are wondering, I think this was a pretty good description and thought of it frequently during the next hours.
We turned up the music and started the rhythm and routine of pushing, relaxing, eating ice, pushing, relaxing, eating ice. During this time Barry was unbelievable – feeding me ice, letting me push against him in every way and encouraging me with sweet words and numbers. At one point we labored in a position that would mean that Maggie could torpedo out onto Barry’s body – after being in this position for quite some time Barry quietly announced that his leg was falling asleep and needed to move. I wonder if his leg was really asleep or if he just didn’t feel like catching Maggie on her arrival.
Pushing, pushing, pushing for three hours and no Maggie. Ugh. Trish and Barry kept telling me that I was close – whatever that means…I just knew that I didn’t have a baby in my arms and I felt like I was pooping a pumpkin. (Sorry, but it’s true).
At one point Barry looks at me and says, “Uh, oh. Uh, oh! She’s got Flip’s bald spot!”
I was mid push and really wanted to laugh, but at the same time didn’t find it funny that my baby might have the same male pattern baldness that my father has been walking around with for decades.
With hours slipping by and we said goodbye to April 19th and hello to the dreaded 4/20, I was ready to be done pushing. My doctor arrived after Trish called her. Dr. Rogers informed us that Maggie needed to come out soon and that she might need to use extra help getting her out – and she wasn’t going to use a vacuum.
If necessary, she’d use forceps.
