Labor started just after 8 am yesterday (Sunday), with contractions mild and spread out enough that, based on my experience with Finn, I thought might or might not stick around. We tried a car ride, and a change of scenery, and they got more intense and never really spaced out. I called the friends we had afternoon plans with around 9 to cancel, secretly hoping we could still maybe meet them for the train ride up in Felton. Um, earth to Katie: no. Katie to Lauren: sorry for being a delusional kook.
We called our Finn-sitters (big thank you to Margaret and Alan, by the way. They kept Finn entertained and in his natural habitat all day while we were at the hospital, providing us with major peace of mind that was just invaluable. We even got to see pictures on Facebook of Finn eating spaghetti shortly after Graham was born.). Jonathan and Finn went grocery shopping. I called our midwife Bethany to let her know we'd probably be heading to the hospital sometime that day (by this time I was a little less in denial, but still thinking Monday was almost as likely as Sunday).
We met Bethany at the hospital sometime between 12 and 1; contractions were about 4 or 5 minutes apart. I was... not great, inside my head. We were still only at about 2 centimeters. The pain was mostly handleable, but I kept thinking about how this was the "easy part," and how much longer we had to go, and sometimes it was BAD. During Finn's labor I got to a point where I was never rested, the pain never left between contractions, all I cared about was making it stop (seriously - the phrase "the baby's doing fine" did not even register), and I was just a big ball of fear and freak-out. I remembered that place, and I did not want to go there, or even close. I know there are people who can look at that, and say "hey, that's just fear," and put it away. I'm not one of them, and I could see myself starting to be governed by fear of the fear, and I decided I needed a more concrete action plan. So I said to Bethany, "Can we talk about the epidural," and she said "we can talk about whatever you want." Which is such a nice answer, and why she's great.
I know we have friends on the "epidurals heck no" end of the spectrum and some on the "okay, labor's started, where's my epidural?" end. I'm neither. My last experience was mixed, and I guess my place on the spectrum was "let's avoid that if we can." That was when I was not yet in labor, thinking hey, I did 30 hours before, 15 should be nothing. When I was actually in labor, looking at 10 more hours (or so I thought) of contractions that I can't properly describe (because really, anyone who's been through labor, have you ever successfully explained what any of it feels like?), things looked different. Bethany asked if I could give her 2 more hours first, to get me to 4-5 cm. I said "heck yes, I can do 2 hours. I can't do 10." "It won't be 10." (Oh man, she was so right.)
So we did 2 hours, serious contractions, got the IV stub thing in so we'd have it later, spent some time in the tub, some time on the ball, and .... we were up to 2-3 centimeters. I don't know about you, but when someone is telling you "not to focus on the numbers," and that you're now "2 to 3" instead of "about 2," and you've had a kind of long day and you're a bit touchy because you've been IN FRICKING LABOR for about 7 hours, I personally suspect that those two measurements are essentially the same.
It was 3pm, or a bit after. I was thinking maybe 11pm if we were lucky. Spoiler: Graham was born at 4:21. Did I mention how I was only at "2 to 3" centimeters after 7 hours? For those of you not familiar with this process, did you know that the goal is 10 centimeters? Do some math, and you will realize why the rest of this story has kind of a garbled feeling. Time got ... mushy.
Bethany suggested breaking the bag of waters. We did that with Finn and he still took another 12 or so, so it didn't seem like a big deal. I did realize that it would make things more intense (yesterday afternoon's internal translation: so we get to the epidural sooner), but Bethany said we could have some fentanyl ready if it got TOO intense, so I put the scary place away again.
Bethany broke the bag. There were contractions. There was a defeated puppy dog look to Bethany, followed by fentanyl. Somewhere in there she checked me, and I was hoping we were close to 4 cm so we could start finding the anesthesiologist... and we were at 5-6 (surprise!) so he was called, and we waited, and I yelled. I was pretty much consumed with surviving the contractions, but I did register burning, and remembered that that was supposed to be important, so I duly reported it. After what seemed like an eternity (but was probably somewhere between 5 and 20 minutes), the epidural was in, and I was given the happy news that it would probably start to work in about 10 minutes. Too long, but hey, at least finite.
Unfortunately (fortunately?), speaking of 10, I was also now at 10 centimeters. And being told to push. I thought she was kidding at first, or meant something like I could push a bit if it would make me feel better, but no, she was serious, and about 3 contractions later (Jonathan estimates about 5 minutes), we had Graham. So the epidural was a helpful distraction, but otherwise not much of a pain management tool.
Same slow start, same happy ending, but otherwise a completely different experience than having Finn. And we're doing great, and the boys got to meet this morning, which was so incredibly fun. We head home from the hospital tomorrow, and my mom gets in tomorrow night. Here we go - wish us luck!
P.S. Thomas and Amy visited tonight, brought dinner, and took pictures.
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