Three weeks later is a good time to blog about the birth of Gretchen, right? Long enough that I look back at it with fondness rather than terror? Ummmm, no. But I should tell the story anyway. For my posterity. Sorry Gretchen, it wasn't "the most precious moment in my life."
I started having contractions around 10 at night on September fifth. That's a week past her due date. Yup... So anyway, I was having contractions... They weren't too bad and I was handling them. I thought I should probably get some sleep because I knew I'd be exhausted if I was doing this for two days like with Wilson. Only problem was, I was too anxious to sleep knowing that we would have a baby soon-ish. So I got up and walked around the house and FINALLY packed a bag. By that time the contractions were getting a little closer so I REALLY thought I should get some sleep.... But unfortunately they were also stronger and there was no way I was sleeping through them.
We left for the hospital around one or two in the morning, when we got there I was having contractions less than 5 minutes apart. The nurse looked at me skeptically when we checked in because my water hadn't broke, but I knew being a week overdue they'd admit me regardless.
I really wanted to go natural with this baby. I really, truly did... I read the book about Hypnobirthing and "practiced" the techniques. I did the breathing, I
tried to relax my body... but little known fact about me (sarcasm).... I have a hard time relaxing. I knew it would be a problem, but I just hoped I could work through it. I couldn't. At all. I tried the breathing, I tried the different positions, I tried to relax my body during the horrific contractions but I definitely couldn't do that either. They were coming around 2-3 minutes apart, they felt like they were ripping my insides, and I was shaking ridiculously bad when I wasn't having contractions. When the nurse checked me again around 5 in the morning I was still only dilated to a 5. Yeah... that was when I told Ryan I NEED the epidural. He was really hesitant at first because I had made such a big deal about him being supportive about no drugs. But I knew I could never relax my body enough to let it naturally dilate any more. I was pretty much hysterical, no lie. So Ryan wanted to film me saying I wouldn't be mad at him for letting me get the epidural.... but then a contraction came and I told him I would kill him if he filmed me during one. I was getting mean. Hysterical and mean. The anesthesiologist came in... tried to get me to stay still so he could juice me. but I was shaking so bad and FREAKING out (I'm not kidding, I'm sure the people in the room thought I was going overboard... I don't have a history of that or anything...) that he was getting mad at me. He even decided to give me a spinal block because I was so out of control.
After the drugs I immediately calmed down and was pretty embarrassed about my behavior. I tried to apologize but the anesthesiologist wouldn't even respond. Oh well, I'll never see him again... After that I finally got some sleep. It was wonderful. I still hated the feeling of being drugged, but at least I could relax and I had stopped shaking. After the epidural, the nurse went to go find someone to break my water but that took two hours for some reason. Around seven they did that... a little over an hour they checked me again and I was finally at a ten. The nurse assured me that because this was my second it wouldn't take as long to push as it did with Wilson (2 hours), but she was WRONG. Why? Because Gretchen was one Big Baby. All I remember the doctor and nurse saying while pushing was that she was going to be a big one.
And at 10:12 am on September 6th, my nameless baby was born. It took us until the day we left the hospital to finally decide on Gretchen. She was 8 pounds 14 ounces and 21 inches. I'm not going to lie, I'm a little disappointed that she wasn't just 2 ounces more so I could brag about birthing my nine pounder.
