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Heather's Birth

 Heather Marie
 November 8, 1994
 8 lb 5 oz
 
 	Every book I read said the same thing. Every mother I talked to said the
 same thing. My doctor said it. My mother said it too. "Every single
labour is different". Why then, in my heart of hearts, didn't I believe this?
 	
	Those who have read of the birth of Rianne and Karen know that theirs
was a relatively easy birth, for primipara twins that is.
My pregnancy was mostly uneventful. I was morning sick for 42 weeks (with
3 weeks off in the middle). The main concern was the position of the baby.
While my doctor preferred a head-down presentation, he was comfortable
with a breech delivery as well. Unfortunately, the baby was persistently
transverse. At 38 weeks, I went for an ultrasound, which showed the baby
head down. By next day, transverse again. The problem of course, was that
my uterus was roomy and the baby was taking full advantage of having room
for two.

 	At 40 weeks we discussed with the doctor our options. He was unwilling
to try external version at this late date. Partly because he felt a general
anesthetic might be required to both reduce the discomfort and ensure I
was completely relaxed. (This didn't make a lot of sense to me, since the
baby was turning full circles as often as twice every 24 hours and I was not
only wide awake but in no discomfort at all.) The second reason we ruled
out external version was that there was no reason to think the baby would
actually stay put. We decided to let nature take its course. Then I got
the flu.
 
	For those who have not tried  this, getting the flu at 40 weeks is not
reccommended. After over 24 hours of being unable to keep anything down,
I went to ask for a shot of gravol (I couldn't take the pills, not even
water was staying down.) Turned out I was quite dehydrated. My doctor admitted
me, mostly for the fluid intake but also because the baby was still
transverse and he was concerned that the stress of the illness would
start labour. (We knew that if I went into labour with the baby still
transverse a cesaerean was pretty much a given.) I must have been really dehydrated.
I took 3 litres of fluid in before my kidney's started up again.
Fortunately, after 2 days of a liquid diet (torture for a hungry pregnant
lady!) I was discharged.

 	At 41 weeks, the baby setttled on a vertex presentation.

 	According to the records (which I disagree with), my labour started
around 5:30pm Nov 7th. habitually got contractions at this time of day, easing
off at about 11:00pm. These were no different although at about 10:30 they
changed to becoming painful.(This is when I count labour as starting)
Instead of a tightening of the muscles, like I expected (every labour is
different!), these were burning, exactly as though I had done too many
sit ups.
 	
	We started timing at about 11:00pm, about 7-10 min apart. We tried to go
to bed but I was really uncomfortable. My husband kept insisting I was in
labour, but I disagreed, this "wasn't what labour felt like" (ha!)
Finally, at about 1:00 am, he convinced me to go in. I was afraid of looking silly
if I wasn't in labour, but I was in so much pain I was hoping for some
kind of solution. (Turns out there was: deliver the baby)
 
	When the nurse did the initial exam, the moment she touched the membranes
they ruptured. 5 cm. Apparently my husband was right. I was in labour.

 	The next hour was very discouraging. My ability to cope basically maxed
out, very frustrating because I had had no trouble last time. At the end
of the hour I was sure I was ready to deliver: 6cm. 
 
	About then, I started to lose it. I was terrified at the prospect of
taking another 4 hours of this. I asked for, and received, Demerol (it came with
gravol as well). Unfortunately, this was not the best course. The Demerol
did not ease the pain, merely prevented it from getting worse, leaving me
at my present (to me unmanagable) level of discomfort. Also, as it was in
the middle of the night, the drugs made me very sleepy. I would doze off
between contractions only to be jolted into panic and pain.

	At about 6:00 ( a guess, I was very hazy), I lost the lull between
contractions. After 6 in a row, my husband (a pillar of strength!!)
called for the nurse. When he told her what was happening, she said "She's in
transition and doing really well." At this point, I muttered "So why do I
feel like ****?" I apologized later and she was very understanding. (She
said anything goes in the delivery room except they prefer the patients
not throw things...)
 	
	The exam showed I was fully dialated and ready to push. They asked me to
sit so they could raise the bed and I refused. (I always get to the point
the I don't want to cope with any more input, like movement. I do it
anyway, but I always refuse.)
	
	Once I was up and could push, I felt much better. The contractions were
still very strong, but not painful. (Hooray!) After about 20 min (I
think), the doctor eased the head out (no tearing!) A push later and as he lifted
the baby out, I saw it was a daughter. My first words were "Its a girl!
Quick dear, build another bathroom!" (Must have been the Demerol)
After my husband cut the cord, they handed me my daughter. I was
delighted, but so groggy from the drugs I was afraid to hold her. I was worried I
would space out and drop her so I gave her to her daddy and admired her
from there. (This is my strongest regret about the Demerol, I feel I
really missed out on a special moment.) Still, when I woke up 4 hours later, she
was still as lovely as when she was born, and I was able to truely appreciate her.

 	My dark-haired and hardest to deliver child is now my blond-haired most
stubborn child. She is 2 now and the family joker. And worth every
contraction.