WARNING: This is a birth story full of pain, (but hey it has a really adorable and chubby ending) you might not want to read this if you are pregnant or thinking about becoming so.
Last post, I left off with us getting home in time for classes on Monday. Well 3 o'clock Monday morning I woke to some very uncomfortable contractions (you know where this is headed...) I was able to go back to sleep until 4, then I had to give up. I had forgotten how bad contractions could be. You see with Owen, I was induced and I elected to have an epidural since I heard pitocin can make your contractions more intense and I wasn't interested in that. Since I didn't feel a single contraction or any pain at all for my last child I had forgotten what it was like to be in labor.
I was miserable when I was having the contractions and dreading the next one when I wasn't. They were so intense that I literally wanted to escape my own body every time a contraction hit me. I was screaming and crying through every one. After dealing with this for an hour I decided I wanted to go to the hospital even though my contractions weren't as regular as they say they should be ( a couple would be every 5 minutes then some would be every 8, and then 3, and then 10...). All I could think about was that the hospital was my relief and I wanted it now or was gonna loose my mind! We called my brother to come and watch the boys while we went to the hospital. It only took him 5 or 10 minutes but it felt like hours. I had basically decided I was gonna leave my children unattended and go to the hospital anyway (hey, he was gonna show up soon, I rationalized), when my brother finally showed up. I moved to the car as quickly as my pain-racked body could take me, crying the whole way. I was desperate. In order to save a few minutes of waiting I made a split second decision to go to the closest hospital instead of the one I had originally chosen. I was counting the minutes it would take to get there and unrealistically calculating how few contractions I might be able to get away with before the epidural took effect. Nathan parked and I got out of the car and went into the hospital without him. I just wanted to get in there as fast as I could, but I only made it 3 yards inside the door before I had to lean up against a wall and cry miserably. A very sweet angel of a doctor was walking past and tried to comfort me, sent some one to notify Labor and Delivery that I was coming, and guided me toward the correct elevator. Nathan caught up to me and we went up. As soon as we got in I was already begging for my pain relief. In the room the nurse checked me and was surprised that I was already fully dilated. They had to get an IV in my arm before they would give me a spinal epidural. Apparently I was dehydrated and that makes it really hard to successfully insert a needle. They had to stick me 2-3 times in each hand. I didn't care about that minor pain I just kept begging for I didn't really know what anymore. Then finally the anesthesiologist came and got the IV in and then gave me my epidural. RELIEF! Immediately after that the doctor came in and told me to start pushing...
Last post, I left off with us getting home in time for classes on Monday. Well 3 o'clock Monday morning I woke to some very uncomfortable contractions (you know where this is headed...) I was able to go back to sleep until 4, then I had to give up. I had forgotten how bad contractions could be. You see with Owen, I was induced and I elected to have an epidural since I heard pitocin can make your contractions more intense and I wasn't interested in that. Since I didn't feel a single contraction or any pain at all for my last child I had forgotten what it was like to be in labor.
I was miserable when I was having the contractions and dreading the next one when I wasn't. They were so intense that I literally wanted to escape my own body every time a contraction hit me. I was screaming and crying through every one. After dealing with this for an hour I decided I wanted to go to the hospital even though my contractions weren't as regular as they say they should be ( a couple would be every 5 minutes then some would be every 8, and then 3, and then 10...). All I could think about was that the hospital was my relief and I wanted it now or was gonna loose my mind! We called my brother to come and watch the boys while we went to the hospital. It only took him 5 or 10 minutes but it felt like hours. I had basically decided I was gonna leave my children unattended and go to the hospital anyway (hey, he was gonna show up soon, I rationalized), when my brother finally showed up. I moved to the car as quickly as my pain-racked body could take me, crying the whole way. I was desperate. In order to save a few minutes of waiting I made a split second decision to go to the closest hospital instead of the one I had originally chosen. I was counting the minutes it would take to get there and unrealistically calculating how few contractions I might be able to get away with before the epidural took effect. Nathan parked and I got out of the car and went into the hospital without him. I just wanted to get in there as fast as I could, but I only made it 3 yards inside the door before I had to lean up against a wall and cry miserably. A very sweet angel of a doctor was walking past and tried to comfort me, sent some one to notify Labor and Delivery that I was coming, and guided me toward the correct elevator. Nathan caught up to me and we went up. As soon as we got in I was already begging for my pain relief. In the room the nurse checked me and was surprised that I was already fully dilated. They had to get an IV in my arm before they would give me a spinal epidural. Apparently I was dehydrated and that makes it really hard to successfully insert a needle. They had to stick me 2-3 times in each hand. I didn't care about that minor pain I just kept begging for I didn't really know what anymore. Then finally the anesthesiologist came and got the IV in and then gave me my epidural. RELIEF! Immediately after that the doctor came in and told me to start pushing...
On September 13th around 6am, just 45 minutes after arriving at the hospital Ronan Young Shirley was born. 9 lbs. 1 oz. and 20 .5 in. long and he was a week early! I was only in labor for 2 or 3 hours! It felt like eternity.
I felt much better afterwards.
He sure was a cute little chunker.
His brothers were, of course, delighted to have their little brother out in the open.
I chose to not take the week off (or for some people maybe it's longer, I don't know) because for me the worst possible thing would be to fall behind in my classes. So 58 hours (2 1/2 days) after giving birth I was back in my classes. Don't worry, I took it easy. At least I avoided walking to much.
So note that when ever I have said or will say, "I was going to school full time" that Art classes have double the in class hours of most typical college classes (and probably the out of class time required as well) so when I took 12 credits in the winter it was really 24 hours a week in class and when I took 14 credits in the fall that was really 28 hours a week in class then add out of class time. So basically when I wasn't sleeping, all I was doing was taking care of Ronan and working on my assignments. Nathan had to give me food or I usually wouldn't remember to eat (I confess I don't really do a whole lot better when I'm not busy either).
All I'm saying is that life was crazy.
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