On January 20th as I made my way home from the office, I called my Mom to tell her I wasn't "feeling right." I'd been having mild contractions all day that were going back and forth from irregular to regular with a couple of stronger ones sprinkled in periodically and I felt like the baby was sitting really, really low. My contractions had been about every 2-5 minutes lasting any where from 30-60 seconds each, so nothing to really write home about, but definitely time-able. I remember my Mom saying, "maybe tonight is the night!" But she'd said that to me a couple weeks prior, when I had been having regular contractions nearly the entire day, so I didn't think too far into it. I was still very calm about the pregnancy coming to a close and was on the fence about wanting it to be over.. I was so ready to meet baby Elle but at the same time, we had worked so hard to become pregnant and to me, it just didn't seem to last long enough. My emotions were bittersweet. Even with having two weeks left to go I decided to see if I could at least get the ball moving a little bit by walking on the treadmill at work in the mornings and bouncing on my birthing ball at night. The bouncing also relieved my back and hip pain so I figured it was a win win. I began on Monday. I walked a 2 miles that morning and bought the birthing ball later that evening from Target.
After standing in the bathroom and discussing the amount, color, and texture of which I saw , because you know, us women find details very important, we both excitedly made our way back to the living room. Barry returned to the couch and I my birthing ball however this time I didn't bounce. I just rocked and swayed from side to side, making large circles and figure eights with my hips as I'd read online that it's a good way to not only open up your hips but also to get the baby in position for birth. A few minutes into this, again, I felt the need to pass wind, so I stood up, still hovering over my birthing ball and pushed. Just then I felt a POP!!! And then felt a decent gush of fluid. My first thought was, 'great, I just peed myself' since it's quite normal towards the end of pregnancy to loose a little bit of bladder control and I'd already had it happen to me on a few occasions. I immediately stopped pushing but continued to feel fluid coming out. Right then I knew!!
I yelled out to Barry, "SHIT!! MY WATER JUST BROKE!" as I ran, sort of hunched over, to the bathroom. It must have been quite a sight to see! Upon entering the bathroom, I couldn't get my pants peeled down fast enough before another gush landed on the floor right in front of the toilet. I plopped down and couldn't believe what sounded like the longest, record breaking pee ever. Barry had jumped up off of the couch and ran right behind me stopping in the hallway and gazing into the bathroom at me in shock and amazement. Once I realized he was standing there watching me we both just stared at each other half crying and half laughing. I had been so afraid that my water would break without him and that I would have to tell him the story of how it happened. After everything we'd been through, I really didn't want that for us. So needless to say, I felt elated that we were together to witness one of the most amazing parts of pregnancy. I thought I had a pretty good idea of what it would be like as far as the amount of fluid that would come, but I clearly did not! Fluid just kept coming out and coming out. It was like peeing but having no control over it. Every time I thought it was nearly done, more would come right behind. Barry noticed the puddle by my feet and grabbed some soapy water and paper towels to clean it up with. As he did we couldn't stop gabbing over how unbelievable and amazing all of this was. After about 5 minute of us sitting there laughing, I told him to grab as many towels as possible and to line the seat in my car in with them. "WHAT? Why?" he exclaimed. "Because this is going to keep coming out. Its not going to stop!" I told him.
God Bless him! He had no idea. And truth be told, I didn't have much of a clue either, though 10 minutes prior I would have probably told you I did. I thought it would just keep trickling. Boy was I wrong. Little did I know at the time, it would continue to gush for the next 19 hours that I was in labor! After calling my Mom from the toilet to tell her my water broke and then waiting a bit for it to die down, I was finally able to get up and hobble/waddle around the house to gather last minute things, like clothes, snacks, camera bag, cell phone chargers, etc all while holding a a towel in between my legs. About 15 minutes from the time my water broke, we hopped in the car and made our way to the hospital. On the way there I called my Dad and brother to let them all know that were were headed to the hospital to have a baby!!! I remember realizing about half way there that it was Wednesday and saying to Barry, "eww! it's Wednesday! She can't be born on a Wednesday! She's a Friday or Saturday baby for sure!" We were both in total disbelief that the day, or night rather, had finally arrived!!
When we pulled into the parking lot of the Family Birth Place at Saint Vincent's Southside I got out of the car still fashioning a towel still in between my legs when I felt another really huge gush. I had no idea what to do so I just wrapped the towel around my waste and grabbed Barry's hand as we made our way inside. With each step I took, a gush of fluid would follow. In the elevator I stared down at my feet just waiting to be standing in a puddle. For safety reasons, you have to be buzzed into the Labor and Delivery ward upon telling the receptionist through a camera and microphone on the wall beside the door why you are there. Hearing the words leave Barry's mouth, "my wife's water broke and I think we are in labor," was music to my ears. We were buzzed back, I was put in a wheel chair, and given a few documents to read over and sign and within minutes we were shown to our labor and delivery suite. I looked around the room, taking it all in, thinking to myself, 'this is where Elle will be born. This is the first room she'll ever see. This is the first scent she'll ever smell.'
After setting down our stuff I quickly made my way to the bathroom as it didn't feel right to just stand there, fully dressed, while continuing to leak fluid every where. Plus the nurse had asked me to give a Urine sample. I asked her how I was suppose to do that given my situation and she told met to just do the best I could. As I sat there collecting probably mostly amniotic fluid, I gazed around the room at the walls, and the tiles on the floor, still in disbelief, but trying to take in as much of my surroundings as best I could. Then I heard a familiar voice enter the room and greet Barry. It was my Mom! I was so, so excited to hear her and know she was there. The already surreal moment became even more surreal. This was happening!
A short time later, a couple of nurses came in, one to get my IV going and another to stand there ask me a barrage of questions regarding family and medical history and the moments leading up to my water breaking. My Dad had also come up to visit but was only there for about an hour or so before realizing that we were in for a long night. So he went home to get some rest and said he'd be back in the morning.
About ten minutes later, the cramps I was forewarned about came on. The first one came then a second and then third. A few minutes later I noticed they were coming in waves and were not as constant as period cramps. I'd feel one coming on gradually, it would peak, and then almost completely go away before I'd feel another. They really felt nothing like period cramps. They were undeniably different. And they were beginning to get really uncomfortable. It was then I remember thinking, "are these contractions?" A few minutes into it, the waves were growing bigger and lasting longer and were downright painful and I knew without a doubt what was going on. I called out to Barry who got up from his couch and came and sat on the side of my bed. I explained to him what was going on and he asked if I wanted the nurse to which I declined and just requested my Mom. A few seconds later he escorted my Aunt Sandy and my Mom into the room. Before I knew it, all three of them were surrounding my bed, softly stroking me and calmly reminding me to breathe as laid there, still confused since I was told that the medicine would only produce some mild cramping and what I was feeling were full on contractions.. But because this was my first time and I had never actually felt real contractions before, I found it hard to trust myself and wondered if anyone in the room even believed how much pain I was in. One thing I did know was that these weren't period cramps, these were waves of tightening pain! This was it. I was in labor!
At some point, the nurse came in, although I'm not sure if by chance or if my family had her paged. We all tried to tell her what had been happening but I got the feeling she wasn't taking me seriously. I'm not sure if it was the looks she kept giving me, or her body language.. For all I know it was all in my head, but I felt like she didn't believe me. As if I had a reason to make stuff up at a time like this. Like I said, I had a hard time even trusting myself at this point. How do you go from laughing and having a good time one minute, and 15 minutes later, feeling like you're in active labor when I was never even warned that the Cytotec could act as a labor inducer. In a room full of support I felt beside myself. Panic and paranoia crept in as I wondered if my family and my even own husband believed me.The nurse asked if I'd like something to take the edge off to which I happily and nearly desperately agreed to. She brought me a pill in a small plastic saucer along with a small cup of water. Within minutes I felt slightly impaired and giggly but was still in every bit of pain I was in prior to taking the medicine. A few more minutes went by, as did a few more contractions; still unbelievably growing more and more painful and by this point, I went from sad, sappy introverted Candace, to pissed off, "what the fuck did you do to me?" Candace. I was pissed that all she gave me was something to make me loopy. I hate feeling that way to begin with, and at a time when I want to be right in the head if nothing more than for memory's sake and for the seriousness of the situation, I was so upset that I was given a drug that made me feel the way it did. And the worst part, was even though I was mad, most of my emotion was being portrayed as the opposite because it was making me so giggly. I already felt like I wasn't being taken seriously. Try explaining to someone your upset and in a lot of pain all while cutting a grin and fighting back your urge to laugh and see how serious they take you. Finally though, even through the loopiness of the Staydol I was given, I think while explaining this to my family, I was able to cry a little bit which had made my argument a little more believable. I wanted nothing more than for someone to acknowledge the pain I experiencing. I don't know why this became so important in my mind but it was certainly front and center in mine for some time.
As the minutes went on, my distress became more and more apparent. I never in my wildest dreams imagined labor being as painful and exhausting as it was. I can't tell you how many times I told whoever in the room was listening, "I can't do this. It's too much. I can't do this anymore." I distinctly remember thinking I was going to die.I would feel the contraction coming and voice it so that my supporters knew. "here it comes. Okay, here is comes. It's happening." Then I'd deeply inhale as though it was to be my very last breath on earth and I'd hold onto it until being reminded to let it go. The only thing I could concentrate on was the pain, and thinking in the back of my mind I was either going to faint, shit my self, or just die. I'd feel the full weight and girth of the contraction overtake me like a rogue wave. I was drowning. I didn't just feel the pain in my belly but all over. The only way I can describe it is that it felt similar to the stomach spasms one feels during a severe bout of diarrhea and then times that feeling by at least a hundred or so. Each contraction would peak for about a minute, give or take, and with each one I'd drift in and out of self awareness. I could almost feel my spirit leave the shell of my body and return after the contraction had begun to loosen it's grip on me. It became so intense an hour or so into labor, that I felt like with each one, I was going to vomit, and not just the contents of my stomach, but my stomach in it's entirety and everything else it's immediate vicinity. At one point I had even told someone I wanted to jump out of the window. For the most part I remained in the bed, I think. A few times I stood on the floor and leaned over the end of it. I have memories of someone rubbing my back and someone else wiping my forehead with a cold, wet cloth while trying to keep the hair out of my face that had escaped it's disheveled confinement. According to Barry, at one point I had broke wind so loudly and so foul smelling, that he was tempted to lift my gown and make sure it was only wind. According to him, I was so lost in the moment of the contraction that I was blatantly unaware of what I'd done, even with a room full of supporters, doctors, and nurses I didn't bat an eye about it. I was too focused on surviving the next contraction. To my surprise, this went on for about 3 or 4 hours. Looking back, it doesn't seem possible that it lasted that long and that someone could live through such pain for that length of time, but I guess it wouldn't to a person who was close to blacked out for a lot of it. If asked, Barry would be the first to tell you that it felt every bit of that long though, if not longer.
During all of this, the nurse would periodically check in on me and look over my fetal monitoring strip to make sure Elle wasn't in distress. Just as I began to think I absolutely couldn't take anymore, I heard the nurse say, "I'm going to go call her doctor and get the "okay" to give her an epidural." I had always envisioned myself asking for one and I remember thinking it odd that she made the decision for me even though I had absolutely ZERO reservations on getting one. A little while later, a doctor, anesthesiologist, and a nurse all came in and asked everyone to leave except for Barry. They had me cradle a pillow in the fetal position while sitting on the edge of the bed. They put a chair beside the bed and had me put my feet on it and told Barry to sit in the chair, facing me, on top of my feet. I guess to help keep me steady. They put what felt like a huge sticker across my lower back and cleaned off a little portion with what I assume was either alcohol or iodine. Because this part was slightly traumatic it's hard for me to remember the exact details of the epidural but I'll try my best.
I continued laboring and contracting while they conversed and got the drugs and equipment ready. Then one of them told me to let them know when I felt a contraction coming on then dying down. I guess that way they'd have the most time to get the epidural placed before I had another contraction. I sat there, my face buried in my husband's shoulder. "Here it comes. It's coming." I said frantically. "Okay. Let us know when you start to feel it ebb." I don't know if it was the light so bright at the end of the tunnel and knowing relief was on the way or if it was the position I was forced to sit in, but that contraction was probably the worst one. My whole body felt ablaze and on verge of death. A minute or so later I announced I could feel it fading and then following a brief countdown by the doctor I felt the needle enter my back. It paled in comparison to the pain I'd been in for the last few hours but with that said, it wasn't just a wham bam thank you ma'am event. They had to move it around in my back until they got it in it's correct location. That part hurt. Badly. As he moved the needle around in inside my back he kept asking me what I felt. Did I feel pain more on the left or right, what kind of pain, how bad was the pain? Finally when they were satisfied with my answers they taped it in place and removed the needle, leaving only the tube behind. After they removed the big sticker feeling object from my back and cleaned me up, I announced that I was pretty sure it was starting to work. Realizing I could actually talk through a contraction was so satisfying I nearly cried. I felt restored. But the alleviation was short lived when I realized that half of my body wasn't as numb as the other side. And as time grew so did to the gap in different feelings between my left and right side. If I recall correctly it was my left side that was still pretty "awake" compared to my right. After mentioning this to the nurse and explaining how it felt in detail to the anesthesiologist, they decided to remove the epidural and try again with a new one. I was devastated. I seriously didn't think I could go through with another one but I knew there was NO way I could keep one side of me "awake" during the rest of this labor so I agreed to another try. I was terrified at this point about the next outcome possibly remaining the same and being unable to handle it but the doctor made it very clear that they had way more drugs in that hospital than I had pain, and they would do everything they could to keep me comfortable.
So again, I was sat up and instructed to sit on the edge of the bed, only this time I was told by a new nurse to hug the pillow into my chest instead of just leaning over it. This turned out to be a much more comfortable position and made the whole experience a little better. The new nurse was really sweet and even held my hand as the epidural was being placed. As a matter of fact both the doctor and anesthesiologist were both different too. Thank God for shift change and for those new doctors because the second epidural was placed with no issues. After everything was said and done, I leaned back in the bed and felt both sides of my body from the waist down go completely numb. I was later told that a dry labor, which is what they call it when your water breaks before labor has started, is much more painful and intense than when your water breaks much later into labor. I was so thankful for that bit of knowledge. I finally felt understood.
After everyone finished their breakfast my Aunt left to go feed and let our dog out and my Mom, Barry, and I decided to finally get some shut eye.
Around 4:30pm I thought I was beginning to get a little tiny bit of feeling back in my left leg so I told my Mom about it but also told her that I wasn't totally sure; it just felt a little weird. Several minutes later, it was pretty clear that I was regaining feeling. I asked the doctor if it was possible for the Epidural to wear off after so many hours of labor and she said, "in the best case scenario, no. But it does happen sometimes. " I told her that I was certainly getting feeling back again and showed her the parts of my leg that I could feel and she told me to lay on my left side for a little bit to try and get the medicine to drain to that side of my body. After a few seconds of this, she abrublty put me back on my right side and returned to her monitor where again, she stood and stared intently and quietly. Laying there, I began to panic about my epidural wearing off and how I would have to continue to labor and push with complete feeling in one side of my body because by now, I could pretty much feel everything down my left leg from my toes up to mid thigh. She advised me to keep smashing the button that would administer an extra dose of drugs into my system but it would only allow me to push it every 30 minutes. A wave of panic rose up from within in me as I remembered I was on a Pitocin drip that was turned up to 19 by that point. I was deathly afraid of feeling another contraction. Especially a Pitocin contraction. When my Mom and I began to ask her about my options she went and got the anesthesiologist.
A moment later, like an angel from above, a soft spoken, blonde haired nurse came over and said to me from behind her surgical mask her name and everything that was happening around the room. She then informed me that in the event my baby needs to be resuscitated, she would be the one to do so and that she would be in charge of her caring for her while she was in the NICU. Upon hearing those words, tears began to cloud my vision as I stared passed her and up to the heavens. I begged God to let Elle and I make it through this and told him that I would do anything in the world if he'd just see to it that she be delivered safe and sound. Then I heard Bob tell me that since they were putting me under, Barry wouldn't be allowed in the room but he put his hand on my shoulder and told me that I was in good hands and not to worry. I starred back at Bob until I felt the room go peacefully quiet and dark.
Elle was born January 21st, at 5:21pm. She was 20 inches long and weighed 6 pounds and 1 ounce.
It wasn't until a few days later, during a conversation with my Mom, that I learned the doctors had lost Elle's heartbeat on the monitors. That's why they kept flipping me and moving me from side to side and why it was so imperative that they get her out immediately. I'll never know if it was a mechanical error or if her heartbeat really stopped because of the distress she was in from the 19 hours of labor and high dose of Pitocin I'd been on for so long. But knowing that we could have lost her leaves me heartbroken. Just the thought is too much to bear. Too heavy to emotionally conceive. I try not to even let my mind go there.
My new priority became getting out of that recovery room as quickly as possible to be with her. Even through the thick sedation, I powered through that cup of ice chips and after about an hour from the time I had woken up, I was wheeled back to my maternity suite where my family was already waiting. The room was rich with emotion. The drugs were making it so incredibly hard to keep my eyes open and I remember apologizing frequently, mid conversation, for having to close them a few moments. I kept getting told to take a short nap but it just wasn't going to happen. A really sweet nurse had come in a few times to check on me and look at my vitals and kept informing us that Elle would be ready soon. But by the second or third time, I was practically pleading with her to please bring me my baby! It was just after 9:00, 4 hours after she'd been born, when the nurse finally entered my dimly lit room, wheeling in the small bassinet that was carrying the little life we had created. She stopped just short of my bed and sat Elle up and removed the blanket from her.
Mentally digesting how her tiny little diaper seemed to swallow her even tinier body. Her long, skinny legs, and the way her skin wrinkled up around her knee caps. The blueish hue to her velvety soft feet. How surprisingly long her finger nails were. Her sweet petite frame and her little ribs. Her sweet cheeks and perfectly shaped ears. Her pretty tanned skin and beautiful complexion. I was more in love than I'd ever felt before. My heart could have exploded at any moment and to this day, I feel nothing short of that feeling every single time my eyes and hers meet. It was about an hour passed visiting hours when my family left the hospital. It was such a strange feeling. Part of me was glad to finally be alone with Barry and Elle and the other part of me was screaming inside, begging them not to leave and wondering how in the world we were suppose to take care of this beautiful creature all on our own for an entire night!
The first night at the hospital was a busy one. After getting a bath, nurses continued to check on us every two hours.
I was instructed to feed her at least every two hours to help my milk come in. I was finally given graham crackers and jello to eat which I was ridiculously excited about. It was to be my first "meal" in a day and a half! Needless to say, we didn't get much sleep that night. It's hard to sleep when you can't stop starring at the prettiest, most precious thing you've ever seen in your life.
It snowed that day. Yes. In Florida! I'll never forget it for as long as I live. Elle wore a purple fleece footie adorned with rainbows and penguins (the one shown below) on her exit from the care protections of professionals that had surrounded us for the past 48 hours.
This is OUR story and I'm proud to call it that.
