So... I started having contractions at about 6am on 11/29. They were really mild (felt like PMS cramps) and ten-fifteen minutes apart. So I sent my DH to work, called my mother. I was too excited to sleep.
By the time DH got home, things had picked up speed. Contractions were 7-8 minutes apart. We took a walk. My parents came over. We danced, rocked, breathed through each contraction. With each one, the twinges in my back got worse - it felt like someone was banging into my spine. We called the MW.
We went to the hospital when I hit 3 minutes apart. When the MW checked me, I was approaching 4 cm. We walked more. We went back, got checked again. I hit 5 cm, and they admitted me. DH, my mom, and I got "comfortable" on the labor room.
Three hours later (about 5 am, 11/30), I was checked again, and had no progress. The baby was turned wrong - she was facing my thigh instead of my back. No amount of position changes or attempts from the MW would convince her to turn. She gave me a 50/50 shot of a vaginal delivery. After a long talk, I agreed to Pitocin and an epidural. (I had a small breakdown here; the mix of exhaustion, fear of drugs, and concern for the baby got to me). The midwife felt that stronger contractions would help her turn. I was prepped for the epi, and went to sleep. I didn't even feel them insert a Pitocin drip.
20 minutes later, an alarm rang. Through the fog, I saw about 15 people suddenly appear in my room. The baby's heartrate had crashed. They helped me move and change positions, but no luck. Her heartrate stayed down; it might've even continued to drop. To save her, I was rushed (literally had 15 people RUNNING me down a hallway) into the OR for an emergency c-section. I went under general anesthesia since there was no time for a local. She arrived at 7:12am on 11/30/10.
I woke up in Recovery a few hours later. DH told me her birth stats, and that the pedatrician had pronounced her perfect. But my heartrate was ridiculously high. They gave me a transfusion since it appeared that I lost more blood than they thought. (It finally dropped to normal levels the next morning). I didn't get to see my baby for five hours, and finally DH begged a nurse to have her brought to me. My heartrate would spike each time I picked her up, and the hospital staff tried to take her away. I wouldn't let them. The staff finally caved and she stayed with me until I was brought to my room.
Recovery has been ok, but the c-section has made BFing challenging in a number of ways - mostly that my milk was delayed in coming in. I'm pumping and nursing and fighting for every ounce my baby gains. I refuse to give up this early in the game.
My beautiful baby girl is worth every rough moment, though. She's beautiful and silly and alert. She eats constantly, and I love watcing her nurse. She looks at me so intently, and I wonder what she thinks of all this. I can't believe she's mine.
Welcome to the world, LILA BROOKE!