Here's a fun little holiday-themed meme I found over at The Musings of a Mom. For the instructions and full list of participants (I'm #224!), head on over to Rocks in My Dryer -- she's the one who started it!
How long were your labors?
Just one so far for me (well, apart from the labor at 30 weeks that was successfully delayed), I was kind of in and out of labor for about 6 or 7 hours, then actually in for about 6 or 7 hours until I was put on terbutaline to delay the labor until they could attempt the external cephalic version (my son was breech).
How did you know you were in labor?
I was scheduled to get the version and told not to eat or drink anything after midnight, and then late the night before (or rather, early morning, as in 1 AM), I started having contractions. I went in (they had told me to come in for contractions occuring every 10, rather than 5, minutes because of the breech thing). I went in around 2, they monitored me, told me I was not in labor, my husband went home to get our place ready for the baby (he was not expected for another two and a half weeks). Several hours later, they started up again, but I was like the pregnant woman who cried wolf and was not listened to. My husband came back and I filled him in. He insisted that they at least check again, and in fact, I was in labor.
Where did you deliver?
St. Elizabeth's hospital in Boston.
Drugs?
Terbutaline to delay the labor so they could try to do the version. During which the only thing that kept my mind off of the excruciating pain (of the version, not the contractions) was the cute anesthesiologist asking me questions. All the while, the crazy nurse was touching my feet (this is a mortal sin in my family) to try to comfort me. And then anesthesia: see below.
C-section?
Yep. Endured the pain of the contractions, the jitters of the terbutaline, and then the agony of the version for nothing (Note: For those who don't know what a version is, it is when your OB and a really old guy that must be the premier obstetrical expert in the hospital, push down on your uterus with all of their combined weight to try to get the stubborn little bugger to come out your vagina instead of swimming toward your throat). Version failed, got my anesthesia, baby came out all pissed and breathed/swallowed a WHOLE bunch of mucus on the way out. Apparently being born that day was not his idea, but rather that of my womb.
Who delivered?
Dr. Katherine Marshall, my Boston OB. She was really good, although a little forgetful (like she would forget how much weight I gained, what prescriptions she had written, etc.).
So yeah, that's my birthing story. Not what I expected or planned, but how many births really are? I'm just glad my uterus evicted him at nearly 38 weeks instead of 30.
Together at last: our first meeting outside the OR.
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