Boy, if I had any more issues with this pregnancy/labor/delivery, it wouldn't have fit into the subject line. 
So, as alluded to in my post title and sig line, I am a type 2 diabetic, currently controlling my blood sugar with an insulin pump. I also had a C-section with my first baby, although I had a successful VBAC with my 2nd, so this was my VBAVBAC, so to speak.
I had a non-stress test on Tuesday morning, during which the baby's heartbeat looked good and healthy, and also during which I had four, count 'em, four contractions. But I'd been having contractions during every NST for the last two weeks, not to mention contractions during every waking moment and probably most of the non-waking moments of my day, so I did not chalk this up as a big deal. I did spend most of the morning in a PMS-style fog of irritation with everyone around me, but figured that was just a late pregnancy symptom.
After my son's soccer game that evening, I started noticing some relatively strong contractions. We went to the library and checked out some books (and paid a massive overdue fine) and I noticed I was having to pause and breathe a little through a few of the contractions. Hmm. On the drive home I started timing them and noticed they were coming 6 minutes apart.
Now, if this had been my first pregnancy, I would have got home, started throwing things into the hospital bag -- no wait, who am I kidding, if this were my first pregnancy, the bag would have already been packed -- and made plans to leave for the hospital immediately. However, this time around not only did I want to labor at home as long as possible, but also I'd been having regular bouts of prodromal "practice" labor and assumed that this was just more of the same. I didn't even bother calling my doula until the contractions were 5 minutes apart and lasting a minute each, and that was just to give her a heads up that labor might be commencing and that maybe she might need to come over, but probably not until much later that evening.
I had a light snack, low in carbohydrate and high in protein, both for energy and also because now of all times I didn't want to be running high blood sugar. DH suggested that we both try to get some sleep to rest up, and I (hilariously, in retrospect) thought this sounded like a smart idea. So we got ready for bed, laid down, and within minutes he was snoring, and I was still lying there breathing through contractions that were now coming 4 minutes apart. After 20 minutes, I said, screw this, and got back out of bed and ran myself a warm bath. Stayed in the bath for a good 45 minutes and then decided it was just too uncomfortable and got out and dried off. DH was out of bed himself at this point, because he was worried about me and knew I hadn't been able to sleep. We called my doula again and left a message with her husband to have her call back and considered whether or not to call my mom (who lives an hour away) to come pick up the kids. Decided that it wasn't strictly necessary yet, because after all, I'd only been in labor for like 3 hours and probably had another day or so to go! (Because of course all labors are exactly like the ones you have had previously, right?
: )
Around this time I started having to not only breathe, but vocalize through contractions, and this is my polite euphemistic way of saying that I was making noises that sounded like a freight train rolling through the living room, combined with, "Oh, dude, dude, DUDE! DUDE! OW!" It was so very not Bradley. My instructor would have been so disappointed. DH thought that perhaps we should call my mom, and I said, yeah, that's probably a good idea.
It was about 2 AM when we called Mom, and she said she'd be there as soon as she could. We said, no hurry, don't speed! Take your time! I'll probably still be in labor until tomorrow afternoon, ha ha!
I decided to get into the hot shower while DH finished packing up our hospital stuff, because with my dd, the hot shower had helped a lot in early labor. It didn't really do jack squat for my labor this time, plus I was now worried that if my water broke I wouldn't be able to tell because I was already in the shower. I realize that this is a totally irrational and ridiculous fear, because who cares if you know whether your water broke in the shower or not, but that's where I was mentally at the time. I got out of the shower just as my mom pulled into the driveway. Putting my shorts back on was a serious problem, but I finally managed it, and then spent about 10 minutes (during which I had 3 massive contractions) building up my courage to walk down the stairs. My mom was sitting on the living room couch and I waved weakly and muttered "Ihavetositdownrightnow" and headed for our armchair and proceeded to have another huge contraction that I wound up yelling through.
Mom, having had four labors herself, three of which were unmedicated, was fairly alarmed by this, and calmly asked, "So, are you guys planning on leaving for the hospital?" I was like, "Yes yes yes we are leaving now!" Actually I had started feeling a strong urge that we should leave for the hospital RIGHT NOW about half an hour previously but Mom wasn't there yet and I didn't want to bring our two sleeping children with us to the hospital. So we waited, but the second the kids were loaded into her car, we ran out the door and got into the van. I was having an urge to bear down with each contraction, and since I decidedly did NOT want a UC, especially not one in my minivan or on the side of the highway, I was feeling pretty panicked. Although, because in my previous pregnancies I had never felt a true urge to push (because I never got that far with ds and with dd I had an epidural), I wasn't sure if these were really pushing contractions.
DH, to his everlasting credit, drove us safely to the hospital while obeying all major traffic regulations. My doula had called us back to see what was going on, and we had told her to meet us at the hospital. When DH parked the car in the parking garage there, I made it three whole steps out of the van and then froze. I announced that I was not moving any further, and that in fact I could not move any further. DH said, "OK, that's OK, let's just move you out of the way of traffic." I shook my head and said no. Not moving. I literally could not move. So DH takes one look at me and one look at the mostly but not totally deserted parking garage, and broke into a full sprint for the hospital doors. He was back 2 minutes later with a wheelchair. Where did he find it? I don't know. My DH is a resourceful guy.
So he wheels me to the labor and delivery ward while I am still having these massive "pushy" contractions, and we see my doula waiting, which was a huge relief. The hospital staff started having my DH sign in, and my doula very politely went over and said, "Erm, my client is saying she is having an urge to bear down, and some rectal pressure...." This kicked things into higher gear. My doula apologized to me for making up the rectal pressure thing and I told her no, that was basically accurate. They got me into triage pretty quickly at that point. All modesty and/or caring what other people thought was now officially out the window. A nurse asked me to undress and I started stripping my clothes off while still in the actual hallway. Someone very kindly closed the door behind me for privacy, but it's not like I really cared at that point. They checked me and I was 8 cm dilated. (My state of mind at the time was such that I actually thought, "ONLY EIGHT? I AM GOING TO DIE!!!")
So they wheel me down the hall to the delivery room, and while we are in transit, my water broke on the gurney. In the delivery room I was checked again and found to be 10 cm with an anterior lip. I distinctly remember yelling , "WHAT IS AN ANTERIOR LIP?!?!" even though I'm pretty sure that normally I know exactly what an anterior lip is. Anyway, as luck would have it, my OB/GYN happened to be the on-duty OB at the hospital that night, so he was already on the scene when I showed up. He was so great. I almost immediately started pushing, and one of the nurses off to my right was doing that whole "count to 10 and then breathe" thing, and I was more or less totally ignoring her. She'd get to 6 and I would have stopped pushing, but then started pushing again when she was at 8, etc. As I told my doula afterward, "Hey, I respected her need to count to 10, and she respected my need to ignore her counting to 10. Everybody wins!" But the reason I say my OB is so great is because he looked directly at me and calmly said, "Push whenever you need to". Which I had been doing anyway, but hearing him say that was very validating.
I felt the baby start to crown and then with two massive pushes, he made his entry into the world. It was amazing. My previous VBAC had been an epidural birth, and while I am still proud of that birth and consider it a good experience, it was nothing like this. I was so overwhelmed with love and joy and endorphin rush. I told my OB and all of the L&D nurses that I loved them.
After Gus arrived, he was placed naked and bloody onto my chest and I cradled him there for a good half hour or so while we waited for the placenta to decide to come out and then I got a couple of small stitches. (I had very little tearing this time around.) I then agreed to let them take him to the nursery for blood sugar observation under the conditions that 1) DH be permitted into the nursery to be near him and 2) they bring him back quickly. This was readily agreed to. Oh, and declining the eye crap was a non-issue, as was declining the first bath. I did attempt breastfeeding while he was still on my chest, but he wasn't super interested.
Anyway, Gus was actually gone in the nursery for 3 hours, but that is a direct result of the fact that when I went to sit up to get into the wheelchair to be transported to the recovery room, I lost a huge gush of blood, felt faint, saw the world start to spin, and then completely blacked out. My doula said I had what looked like a small seizure. I guess this would be what you call postpartum hemorrhage. I didn't have an IV in place already, so they gave me an intramuscular injection of Pitocin and then ran an IV to give me fluids and help bring my BP back up (it had dropped to 80/60 or something like that) and 20 minutes later I finally felt okay enough to try getting back into the bed out of the wheelchair. And then I promptly fell asleep for the next two hours.
After we were all finally reunited in the recovery room, we breastfed again and it went a lot better this time, and marveled over Gus's light blond hair and resemblance to his siblings, and called various parents to let them know the news. And tried to get over our shock that the baby came so freaking quickly! From the time stamp on the parking garage ticket to the baby's arrival time was a grand total of 35 minutes.
And, I just want to say that I am so glad I finally had an unmedicated vaginal delivery! It is nothing short of miraculous that I have an OB who considers it no big deal to progress to 40 weeks as a diabetic VBAC patient, which really helped. And I loved signing off on the postpartum paperwork on which the "C-section incision care" section had been X'ed out and marked "N/A" in big black letters.
So. That is baby Gus's arrival story! He was 8 lb 8 oz and 21 inches long, and we are all just in love with him.
So, as alluded to in my post title and sig line, I am a type 2 diabetic, currently controlling my blood sugar with an insulin pump. I also had a C-section with my first baby, although I had a successful VBAC with my 2nd, so this was my VBAVBAC, so to speak.
I had a non-stress test on Tuesday morning, during which the baby's heartbeat looked good and healthy, and also during which I had four, count 'em, four contractions. But I'd been having contractions during every NST for the last two weeks, not to mention contractions during every waking moment and probably most of the non-waking moments of my day, so I did not chalk this up as a big deal. I did spend most of the morning in a PMS-style fog of irritation with everyone around me, but figured that was just a late pregnancy symptom.
After my son's soccer game that evening, I started noticing some relatively strong contractions. We went to the library and checked out some books (and paid a massive overdue fine) and I noticed I was having to pause and breathe a little through a few of the contractions. Hmm. On the drive home I started timing them and noticed they were coming 6 minutes apart.
Now, if this had been my first pregnancy, I would have got home, started throwing things into the hospital bag -- no wait, who am I kidding, if this were my first pregnancy, the bag would have already been packed -- and made plans to leave for the hospital immediately. However, this time around not only did I want to labor at home as long as possible, but also I'd been having regular bouts of prodromal "practice" labor and assumed that this was just more of the same. I didn't even bother calling my doula until the contractions were 5 minutes apart and lasting a minute each, and that was just to give her a heads up that labor might be commencing and that maybe she might need to come over, but probably not until much later that evening.
I had a light snack, low in carbohydrate and high in protein, both for energy and also because now of all times I didn't want to be running high blood sugar. DH suggested that we both try to get some sleep to rest up, and I (hilariously, in retrospect) thought this sounded like a smart idea. So we got ready for bed, laid down, and within minutes he was snoring, and I was still lying there breathing through contractions that were now coming 4 minutes apart. After 20 minutes, I said, screw this, and got back out of bed and ran myself a warm bath. Stayed in the bath for a good 45 minutes and then decided it was just too uncomfortable and got out and dried off. DH was out of bed himself at this point, because he was worried about me and knew I hadn't been able to sleep. We called my doula again and left a message with her husband to have her call back and considered whether or not to call my mom (who lives an hour away) to come pick up the kids. Decided that it wasn't strictly necessary yet, because after all, I'd only been in labor for like 3 hours and probably had another day or so to go! (Because of course all labors are exactly like the ones you have had previously, right?
: )Around this time I started having to not only breathe, but vocalize through contractions, and this is my polite euphemistic way of saying that I was making noises that sounded like a freight train rolling through the living room, combined with, "Oh, dude, dude, DUDE! DUDE! OW!" It was so very not Bradley. My instructor would have been so disappointed. DH thought that perhaps we should call my mom, and I said, yeah, that's probably a good idea.
It was about 2 AM when we called Mom, and she said she'd be there as soon as she could. We said, no hurry, don't speed! Take your time! I'll probably still be in labor until tomorrow afternoon, ha ha!
I decided to get into the hot shower while DH finished packing up our hospital stuff, because with my dd, the hot shower had helped a lot in early labor. It didn't really do jack squat for my labor this time, plus I was now worried that if my water broke I wouldn't be able to tell because I was already in the shower. I realize that this is a totally irrational and ridiculous fear, because who cares if you know whether your water broke in the shower or not, but that's where I was mentally at the time. I got out of the shower just as my mom pulled into the driveway. Putting my shorts back on was a serious problem, but I finally managed it, and then spent about 10 minutes (during which I had 3 massive contractions) building up my courage to walk down the stairs. My mom was sitting on the living room couch and I waved weakly and muttered "Ihavetositdownrightnow" and headed for our armchair and proceeded to have another huge contraction that I wound up yelling through.
Mom, having had four labors herself, three of which were unmedicated, was fairly alarmed by this, and calmly asked, "So, are you guys planning on leaving for the hospital?" I was like, "Yes yes yes we are leaving now!" Actually I had started feeling a strong urge that we should leave for the hospital RIGHT NOW about half an hour previously but Mom wasn't there yet and I didn't want to bring our two sleeping children with us to the hospital. So we waited, but the second the kids were loaded into her car, we ran out the door and got into the van. I was having an urge to bear down with each contraction, and since I decidedly did NOT want a UC, especially not one in my minivan or on the side of the highway, I was feeling pretty panicked. Although, because in my previous pregnancies I had never felt a true urge to push (because I never got that far with ds and with dd I had an epidural), I wasn't sure if these were really pushing contractions.
DH, to his everlasting credit, drove us safely to the hospital while obeying all major traffic regulations. My doula had called us back to see what was going on, and we had told her to meet us at the hospital. When DH parked the car in the parking garage there, I made it three whole steps out of the van and then froze. I announced that I was not moving any further, and that in fact I could not move any further. DH said, "OK, that's OK, let's just move you out of the way of traffic." I shook my head and said no. Not moving. I literally could not move. So DH takes one look at me and one look at the mostly but not totally deserted parking garage, and broke into a full sprint for the hospital doors. He was back 2 minutes later with a wheelchair. Where did he find it? I don't know. My DH is a resourceful guy.
So he wheels me to the labor and delivery ward while I am still having these massive "pushy" contractions, and we see my doula waiting, which was a huge relief. The hospital staff started having my DH sign in, and my doula very politely went over and said, "Erm, my client is saying she is having an urge to bear down, and some rectal pressure...." This kicked things into higher gear. My doula apologized to me for making up the rectal pressure thing and I told her no, that was basically accurate. They got me into triage pretty quickly at that point. All modesty and/or caring what other people thought was now officially out the window. A nurse asked me to undress and I started stripping my clothes off while still in the actual hallway. Someone very kindly closed the door behind me for privacy, but it's not like I really cared at that point. They checked me and I was 8 cm dilated. (My state of mind at the time was such that I actually thought, "ONLY EIGHT? I AM GOING TO DIE!!!")
So they wheel me down the hall to the delivery room, and while we are in transit, my water broke on the gurney. In the delivery room I was checked again and found to be 10 cm with an anterior lip. I distinctly remember yelling , "WHAT IS AN ANTERIOR LIP?!?!" even though I'm pretty sure that normally I know exactly what an anterior lip is. Anyway, as luck would have it, my OB/GYN happened to be the on-duty OB at the hospital that night, so he was already on the scene when I showed up. He was so great. I almost immediately started pushing, and one of the nurses off to my right was doing that whole "count to 10 and then breathe" thing, and I was more or less totally ignoring her. She'd get to 6 and I would have stopped pushing, but then started pushing again when she was at 8, etc. As I told my doula afterward, "Hey, I respected her need to count to 10, and she respected my need to ignore her counting to 10. Everybody wins!" But the reason I say my OB is so great is because he looked directly at me and calmly said, "Push whenever you need to". Which I had been doing anyway, but hearing him say that was very validating.
I felt the baby start to crown and then with two massive pushes, he made his entry into the world. It was amazing. My previous VBAC had been an epidural birth, and while I am still proud of that birth and consider it a good experience, it was nothing like this. I was so overwhelmed with love and joy and endorphin rush. I told my OB and all of the L&D nurses that I loved them.
After Gus arrived, he was placed naked and bloody onto my chest and I cradled him there for a good half hour or so while we waited for the placenta to decide to come out and then I got a couple of small stitches. (I had very little tearing this time around.) I then agreed to let them take him to the nursery for blood sugar observation under the conditions that 1) DH be permitted into the nursery to be near him and 2) they bring him back quickly. This was readily agreed to. Oh, and declining the eye crap was a non-issue, as was declining the first bath. I did attempt breastfeeding while he was still on my chest, but he wasn't super interested.
Anyway, Gus was actually gone in the nursery for 3 hours, but that is a direct result of the fact that when I went to sit up to get into the wheelchair to be transported to the recovery room, I lost a huge gush of blood, felt faint, saw the world start to spin, and then completely blacked out. My doula said I had what looked like a small seizure. I guess this would be what you call postpartum hemorrhage. I didn't have an IV in place already, so they gave me an intramuscular injection of Pitocin and then ran an IV to give me fluids and help bring my BP back up (it had dropped to 80/60 or something like that) and 20 minutes later I finally felt okay enough to try getting back into the bed out of the wheelchair. And then I promptly fell asleep for the next two hours.
After we were all finally reunited in the recovery room, we breastfed again and it went a lot better this time, and marveled over Gus's light blond hair and resemblance to his siblings, and called various parents to let them know the news. And tried to get over our shock that the baby came so freaking quickly! From the time stamp on the parking garage ticket to the baby's arrival time was a grand total of 35 minutes.
And, I just want to say that I am so glad I finally had an unmedicated vaginal delivery! It is nothing short of miraculous that I have an OB who considers it no big deal to progress to 40 weeks as a diabetic VBAC patient, which really helped. And I loved signing off on the postpartum paperwork on which the "C-section incision care" section had been X'ed out and marked "N/A" in big black letters.
So. That is baby Gus's arrival story! He was 8 lb 8 oz and 21 inches long, and we are all just in love with him.
. Congratulations mama ... and enjoy that baby!
at several points! Congrats on an awesome birth and thanks for the reminder that births don't all have to be the same! 
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