The Full "Labor Day" Diary - Part 3
Today is Anna's one month birthday, and I still haven't finished telling the story of how she arrived (parts one and two here). When we last checked in, Karen had just been given a dose of fentanyl and was feeling some relief from the now very strong and regular contractions. It was about 9:45pm on Monday, and we had been at the hospital for almost 16 hours...
9:49pm: Kate (our favorite midwife) returns to the room and is greeted with much rejoicing from a frazzled Zach and a drugged-up Karen. She brings a hot compress for Karen's back.
10:02pm: With Karen feeling more comfortable, we both settle down to grab a bit of rest. I find the flip-out chair to be surprisingly comfortable.
10:08pm: Just as I am dozing off for good, I wake up to the sweet sound of my wife puking into a plastic tub (a side effect of the fentanyl). I call Jen (our current nurse) and tell her Karen is throwing up, and she responds, "Oh, fun!"
10:30pm: After about an hour and ten minutes, the fentanyl is starting to wear off and Karen is starting to feel the contractions again. They will get progressively worse over the next 45 minutes.
11:15pm: Kate enters the room to find Karen in really rough shape. At this point the contractions are as bad as they've ever been, and Karen's entire body is convulsing with each one. At times she can't even stop the shaking in between contractions. (This is the moment, guys, where it really sinks in what your poor wife is going through. Imagine being kicked squarely in the nuts every couple minutes for hours on end - that's pretty much what she is going through, and it's an appropriate metaphor for the emotional toll it takes on you as well.)
The Foley Bulb has come out, which means that Karen is 3 cm dilated - and which also means that Kate is comfortable scheduling an epidural at this point. However, with a few C-sections on the schedule, it will probably be another hour or two before the "epidural fairy" (I was so delirious at this point that I could not for the life of me come up with the word anesthesiologist) could make it in to see Karen. Mercifully, Kate agrees to another dose of fentanyl to bridge the gap between now and then. As we head into Day Two, Karen is once again feeling some temporary relief.
Tuesday, December 18th
12:46am: With the second dose of fentanyl starting to wear off, we get the best news of the day - the Epidural Fairy is on his way!
12:58pm: Epidural Fairy arrives.
1:23am: Epidural is placed and functioning. (Side note: These things, functionally, are amazingly simple. Aside from the delicate technique of inserting a hollow needle into your spine - granted, fairly complex - the most important criteria to making it work is to sit you at the proper angle. It's all gravity from there. If you sit too upright, your legs will go completely numb and you'll still feel all your contractions in your torso, which sucks. But if you lay too flat, the drugs could numb your entire torso and you could asphixiate, which probably sucks more - although a woman at the peak of labor might argue that point.)
1:25am: I run out to the car to grab my overnight bag. Karen rests peacefully as the magic pixie dust eases down her spinal column.
1:45am: I brush my teeth and lay down for what I hope to be at least a couple hours of decent rest.
1:50am: Or five minutes. Our fifth nurse of our stay - confusingly named Karen - enters to introduce herself.
1:55am: Bedtime, take two.
2:08am: Little known fact about epidurals - they render you unable to pee for yourself. Nurse Karen arrives to administer Patient Karen her complimentary catheter. Thankfully, the epidural also renders you unable to feel it being inserted.
2:19am: Bedtime, take three. Judging by the gap in my notes, it appears that I actually did get about an hour of sleep here.
3:50am: Yet another nurse (#6), who was just giving Nurse Karen a break, comes in to increase Patient Karen's Pitocin drip.
4:15am: An event which will live in infamy. Out of nowhere, we start hearing awful, terrible, heart wrenching, subhuman sounds coming from the L&D room next door. Some woman is shrieking her lungs out. Until this very moment, I did not know the true meaning of a primal scream. Holy sh*t. Nurse Karen comes in almost immediately and apologizes for the commotion, acknowledging that "It's going to be a production," and "It will probably get worse." For the next 30-45 minutes, it does. I don't think Patient Karen was ever happier to have her epidural than when we were sitting wide-eyed in the dark, listening to a natural childbirth next door. I can't imagine what it sounded like in the room itself. I mean, for the love of all that is good and holy, get that woman some medication! If I were her husband, I would have stabbed her in the spine myself before letting her go through all that. Never mind the fact that 1) there is clearly no sound proofing between the L&D rooms, and 2) there were probably a number of other women in that hallway who were early in their labor. Can't the nurses say, "Um, honey, you're scaring the hell out of the other patients; we're going to have to give you some drugs now..."? I mean, damn...
We're going to need some time to recover from that one. Part 4 will follow shortly and will take us through to the exciting conclusion.
9:49pm: Kate (our favorite midwife) returns to the room and is greeted with much rejoicing from a frazzled Zach and a drugged-up Karen. She brings a hot compress for Karen's back.
10:02pm: With Karen feeling more comfortable, we both settle down to grab a bit of rest. I find the flip-out chair to be surprisingly comfortable.
10:08pm: Just as I am dozing off for good, I wake up to the sweet sound of my wife puking into a plastic tub (a side effect of the fentanyl). I call Jen (our current nurse) and tell her Karen is throwing up, and she responds, "Oh, fun!"
10:30pm: After about an hour and ten minutes, the fentanyl is starting to wear off and Karen is starting to feel the contractions again. They will get progressively worse over the next 45 minutes.
11:15pm: Kate enters the room to find Karen in really rough shape. At this point the contractions are as bad as they've ever been, and Karen's entire body is convulsing with each one. At times she can't even stop the shaking in between contractions. (This is the moment, guys, where it really sinks in what your poor wife is going through. Imagine being kicked squarely in the nuts every couple minutes for hours on end - that's pretty much what she is going through, and it's an appropriate metaphor for the emotional toll it takes on you as well.)
The Foley Bulb has come out, which means that Karen is 3 cm dilated - and which also means that Kate is comfortable scheduling an epidural at this point. However, with a few C-sections on the schedule, it will probably be another hour or two before the "epidural fairy" (I was so delirious at this point that I could not for the life of me come up with the word anesthesiologist) could make it in to see Karen. Mercifully, Kate agrees to another dose of fentanyl to bridge the gap between now and then. As we head into Day Two, Karen is once again feeling some temporary relief.
Tuesday, December 18th
12:46am: With the second dose of fentanyl starting to wear off, we get the best news of the day - the Epidural Fairy is on his way!
12:58pm: Epidural Fairy arrives.
1:23am: Epidural is placed and functioning. (Side note: These things, functionally, are amazingly simple. Aside from the delicate technique of inserting a hollow needle into your spine - granted, fairly complex - the most important criteria to making it work is to sit you at the proper angle. It's all gravity from there. If you sit too upright, your legs will go completely numb and you'll still feel all your contractions in your torso, which sucks. But if you lay too flat, the drugs could numb your entire torso and you could asphixiate, which probably sucks more - although a woman at the peak of labor might argue that point.)
1:25am: I run out to the car to grab my overnight bag. Karen rests peacefully as the magic pixie dust eases down her spinal column.
1:45am: I brush my teeth and lay down for what I hope to be at least a couple hours of decent rest.
1:50am: Or five minutes. Our fifth nurse of our stay - confusingly named Karen - enters to introduce herself.
1:55am: Bedtime, take two.
2:08am: Little known fact about epidurals - they render you unable to pee for yourself. Nurse Karen arrives to administer Patient Karen her complimentary catheter. Thankfully, the epidural also renders you unable to feel it being inserted.
2:19am: Bedtime, take three. Judging by the gap in my notes, it appears that I actually did get about an hour of sleep here.
3:50am: Yet another nurse (#6), who was just giving Nurse Karen a break, comes in to increase Patient Karen's Pitocin drip.
4:15am: An event which will live in infamy. Out of nowhere, we start hearing awful, terrible, heart wrenching, subhuman sounds coming from the L&D room next door. Some woman is shrieking her lungs out. Until this very moment, I did not know the true meaning of a primal scream. Holy sh*t. Nurse Karen comes in almost immediately and apologizes for the commotion, acknowledging that "It's going to be a production," and "It will probably get worse." For the next 30-45 minutes, it does. I don't think Patient Karen was ever happier to have her epidural than when we were sitting wide-eyed in the dark, listening to a natural childbirth next door. I can't imagine what it sounded like in the room itself. I mean, for the love of all that is good and holy, get that woman some medication! If I were her husband, I would have stabbed her in the spine myself before letting her go through all that. Never mind the fact that 1) there is clearly no sound proofing between the L&D rooms, and 2) there were probably a number of other women in that hallway who were early in their labor. Can't the nurses say, "Um, honey, you're scaring the hell out of the other patients; we're going to have to give you some drugs now..."? I mean, damn...
We're going to need some time to recover from that one. Part 4 will follow shortly and will take us through to the exciting conclusion.
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