When we got to the front doors, we had our temperature taken and were each given a mask to wear. They didn't have my name on the list, so there was some confusion regarding that. Kevin had to go over to a separate area and remove his mask to get a photo taken so they could print his information on a paper sticker visitor badge. And then we were off to the elevators to ride up to the labor and delivery floor. On the way up, the elevator lurched and dropped a little. I almost peed my pants. We were scared we'd be trapped inside, but alas, it started moving again. We got to the floor and answered some Covid questions via speaker before the doors opened to let us into the labor wing. Then we had to be admitted, which involved me signing a ton of forms (which I read because you can't trust anyone these days, especially in such a weird time). I think the nurses and staff were frustrated at how long it took, but I wasn't signing anything I didn't read and I was starting to get salty about the whole ordeal. Finally we were ushered to our room and told we had to wear our masks the entire time. Umm, that was a big ole fat "no" for me. If I was going to be pushing a baby out, I was going to have to be able to breathe! The nurses secretly agreed without verbally saying anything. However, until I was tested for "the Corona", I had to wear my mask. (Kevin was supposed to wear his mask the entire time also, but at some point his came off too and he never put it back on. He was also never swabbed for the 'Rona.)
First I was asked to undress and put on a gown. I needed to pee, so I asked if I could do that and they were thrilled to collect my urine for a protein test. I got in bed and the whole ordeal began to unfold. I don't remember the exact order of things, but you'll get the gist. It was around 9pm.
Nurses were geared up in scrubs with gloves, head coverings and masks on. But on top of that they had these thin transparent yellow gauzey gowns that covered everything and clear face shields (I refer to this getty-up as their hazmat suits). I'm glad the gowns were so thin...I know for a deadly virus, it was doing a lot of protecting! They had to wear that until I had a Corona swab (basically a q-tip a foot long swabbing my brain) that came back negative. So, in marched the "Corona team" in their hazmat suits to swab my brain. I guess, in retrospect, I could have refused to be tested, but the nurses were probably grateful I was so they could eventually remove their hazmat gear. I want to say there were three or more of them on the "Corona team", but there could have only been two. I took a deep breathe and they inserted that entirely too long q-tip up into my brain. It had to be there for 10 seconds. The longest 10 seconds I've ever counted. My eyes welled up, I felt like I had to sneeze. I also had that sensation you get when you dive down too deep in a pool and you get bubbles up in your nose, you need to get back to the top for air and you can't get there fast enough. To say it was horrible, well... The test came back negative and everyone removed their hazmat suits. There was joy in the room!
The midwife from WBWC came in at some point and laid out the plan for everything. I was getting magnesium to make sure I didn't have a stroke or seizure. Magnesium makes everything in your body relax (also the exact opposite of what you need your body to do to contract and push a baby out), so this made me a fall risk. I couldn't leave the bed. They were also going to start Pitocin to get contractions going and that would increase up to 20 by some point. (I didn't know what that meant and we exceeded 20, so I really have no idea?). I was going to have a foley bulb inserted to dilate me and potentially help my water break. And we were going to have a baby.
Next came IVs. I asked for a kid's "port" or whatever the piece that stays in your arm is, because I know my veins are small and in the past I've had to be poked a lot with no luck. Well, this go-round my nurse tried two spots and couldn't get it. Excruciating pain and Kevin was in the corner with his back to me while I pretended to have "normal" conversation for his sake, so he wouldn't pass out. When she couldn't get it, she called in backup and that nurse tried with no luck and then finally got it on the 4th try. Those dang things have caused me more pain in both of my labors than anything else. The bruises from that specific torture were still around 2 weeks after birth.
The magnesium was started in the port. It gave me a super warm sensation all over and made me flushed and was supposed to make me feel loopy, but I don't remember the loopy until the following morning/next day. I also had fluids.
At some point after that the anesthesiologist came in to introduce himself and have me sign 500 papers that detailed the drugs he would like to inject into me that I was denying. I don't think he gets a hard NO very often. Poor guy looked offended. He offered to come back. I think he had a glimmer of hope. I knew I wasn't going to see that sucker again.
The "child doctor" came in next. That's what I call this guy who couldn't have been a day over 16. He started his conversation with, "Can you tell me what preeclampsia is?" I wasn't aware that I was a contestant on a medical game show, and I was really VERY salty at this point, so I clapped back with something like "yeah, my blood pressure is high and you people think I'm going to stroke out or have a seizure, so here I am being hooked up with magnesium pumped into me to have a baby." Wrong lady, child doctor, wrong lady. He did some back-peddling and explained to me exactly why things were going the way they were and told me I could opt out of the magnesium if I wanted to. REALLY?!? because it had already started and everyone was super sure I was about to die without it.
Then "Big Hands", that's what I now called the WBWC midwife, came in to strip my membranes and/or insert the foley bulb. These might have happened at the same time or it could have been two separate occurrences. All I know is "Big Hands" had REALLY big hands. And when she inserted them in my vagina, it felt like she was pushing her big hands all the way through me into the bed behind me. Kevin had to look away again. I was contracting and flexing my muscles and almost fighting against her because it was painful. She ended up having to use 3 different alligator clamps (also known in the medical field as a speculum) to insert the foley bulb, which was placed at 11pm. She commented that she couldn't get something out of the way or get around something or something. I wasn't really caring what was in the way, but Big Hands needed to get this mandatory bulb in me and leave my presence A sap! The bloody alligator clamps remained in the room sink until after the baby was born and this was neither pleasant to look at or sanitary (in my opinion)!
Pitocin was started after the foley bulb was in and labor artificially started. There was finally a bit of a break with people coming in and out of the room and we were asked if we wanted to be part of a COVID-19 study. They would take blood from me and from the baby just after birth and do something with it. At first it sounded okay, but then I just decided I had had enough at that point. I wasn't even supposed to be in the hospital and I wasn't okay with my minutes-old child being used as a science experiment. Luckily, the nurse was super understanding and said that was totally fine, she would just tell that team not to come in the room.
We "rested" from around 11:30pm-2am. When I did have my eyes open, it was nice to look out the windows at the dark night sky and see lights (of a parking garage or something else) in the distance. (I'll also note that blood pressure meds were ordered for me, but my blood pressure was in the normal range the ENTIRE time I was laboring...so was this really preeclampsia?!?) I was having contractions, but was trying to sleep through them. I wasn't supposed to leave the bed for anything, because you know, fall, hit head, die. But I refused a catheter. I'd had one for a procedure years ago and it hurt more than anything that's ever happened to me in my life and I can tolerate pain pretty well. That wish was honored as long as I had two people supporting me to go to the bathroom, and as long as I continued to void on my own. So, I went multiple times throughout the night. Once on my own with just Kevin-and I was reprimanded! Oops!
The Pitocin continued to increase, the magnesium was coursing through my body. The contractions were coming on nice and heavy. The monitors for the baby on my belly were uncomfortable and pressing into me. The blood pressure cuff was tightening up every 15 minutes. There was really no way to rest as people continued to come in and out of the room. The foley bulb came out just after 2am.
All of the nurses had these walkie-talkie devices hanging around their necks or clipped to their scrubs. They acted like hands free phones. So an incoming call would say, "Call for Marissa, do you accept." and the nurse would say "yes" and then they could talk to the caller. Sometime after the foley blub came out, or maybe it was after my water broke, Big Hands called my nurse and said something along the lines of, "Just checking in and wanted to see if Victoria needs me for any reason." The nurse relayed what was happening while I stayed silent, because it was her call. But in my mind I was saying, 'where are you and what the F are you doing? Taking a nap? I'm in labor and you're the midwife assigned to me. Of course I need your assistance. You're supposed to be delivering a baby!' When my nurse got off the phone she asked me if I wanted the midwife and I said, "Yes.". HAHA! Much more simple than the outrage in my head!
3:10am: Pitocin at 14, 3cm dilated
The midwife from WBWC came in at some point and laid out the plan for everything. I was getting magnesium to make sure I didn't have a stroke or seizure. Magnesium makes everything in your body relax (also the exact opposite of what you need your body to do to contract and push a baby out), so this made me a fall risk. I couldn't leave the bed. They were also going to start Pitocin to get contractions going and that would increase up to 20 by some point. (I didn't know what that meant and we exceeded 20, so I really have no idea?). I was going to have a foley bulb inserted to dilate me and potentially help my water break. And we were going to have a baby.
Next came IVs. I asked for a kid's "port" or whatever the piece that stays in your arm is, because I know my veins are small and in the past I've had to be poked a lot with no luck. Well, this go-round my nurse tried two spots and couldn't get it. Excruciating pain and Kevin was in the corner with his back to me while I pretended to have "normal" conversation for his sake, so he wouldn't pass out. When she couldn't get it, she called in backup and that nurse tried with no luck and then finally got it on the 4th try. Those dang things have caused me more pain in both of my labors than anything else. The bruises from that specific torture were still around 2 weeks after birth.
 |
| Bruises two weeks later |
The "child doctor" came in next. That's what I call this guy who couldn't have been a day over 16. He started his conversation with, "Can you tell me what preeclampsia is?" I wasn't aware that I was a contestant on a medical game show, and I was really VERY salty at this point, so I clapped back with something like "yeah, my blood pressure is high and you people think I'm going to stroke out or have a seizure, so here I am being hooked up with magnesium pumped into me to have a baby." Wrong lady, child doctor, wrong lady. He did some back-peddling and explained to me exactly why things were going the way they were and told me I could opt out of the magnesium if I wanted to. REALLY?!? because it had already started and everyone was super sure I was about to die without it.
Then "Big Hands", that's what I now called the WBWC midwife, came in to strip my membranes and/or insert the foley bulb. These might have happened at the same time or it could have been two separate occurrences. All I know is "Big Hands" had REALLY big hands. And when she inserted them in my vagina, it felt like she was pushing her big hands all the way through me into the bed behind me. Kevin had to look away again. I was contracting and flexing my muscles and almost fighting against her because it was painful. She ended up having to use 3 different alligator clamps (also known in the medical field as a speculum) to insert the foley bulb, which was placed at 11pm. She commented that she couldn't get something out of the way or get around something or something. I wasn't really caring what was in the way, but Big Hands needed to get this mandatory bulb in me and leave my presence A sap! The bloody alligator clamps remained in the room sink until after the baby was born and this was neither pleasant to look at or sanitary (in my opinion)!
Pitocin was started after the foley bulb was in and labor artificially started. There was finally a bit of a break with people coming in and out of the room and we were asked if we wanted to be part of a COVID-19 study. They would take blood from me and from the baby just after birth and do something with it. At first it sounded okay, but then I just decided I had had enough at that point. I wasn't even supposed to be in the hospital and I wasn't okay with my minutes-old child being used as a science experiment. Luckily, the nurse was super understanding and said that was totally fine, she would just tell that team not to come in the room.
We "rested" from around 11:30pm-2am. When I did have my eyes open, it was nice to look out the windows at the dark night sky and see lights (of a parking garage or something else) in the distance. (I'll also note that blood pressure meds were ordered for me, but my blood pressure was in the normal range the ENTIRE time I was laboring...so was this really preeclampsia?!?) I was having contractions, but was trying to sleep through them. I wasn't supposed to leave the bed for anything, because you know, fall, hit head, die. But I refused a catheter. I'd had one for a procedure years ago and it hurt more than anything that's ever happened to me in my life and I can tolerate pain pretty well. That wish was honored as long as I had two people supporting me to go to the bathroom, and as long as I continued to void on my own. So, I went multiple times throughout the night. Once on my own with just Kevin-and I was reprimanded! Oops!
 |
| Midnight |
 |
| 1AM |
 |
| 2AM |
All of the nurses had these walkie-talkie devices hanging around their necks or clipped to their scrubs. They acted like hands free phones. So an incoming call would say, "Call for Marissa, do you accept." and the nurse would say "yes" and then they could talk to the caller. Sometime after the foley blub came out, or maybe it was after my water broke, Big Hands called my nurse and said something along the lines of, "Just checking in and wanted to see if Victoria needs me for any reason." The nurse relayed what was happening while I stayed silent, because it was her call. But in my mind I was saying, 'where are you and what the F are you doing? Taking a nap? I'm in labor and you're the midwife assigned to me. Of course I need your assistance. You're supposed to be delivering a baby!' When my nurse got off the phone she asked me if I wanted the midwife and I said, "Yes.". HAHA! Much more simple than the outrage in my head!
3:10am: Pitocin at 14, 3cm dilated
3:12am: Pitocin at 16
My chart says at 4:45am I SROM'd (Spontaneous Rupture of Membranes) for clear fluid and quickly became more uncomfortable. Basically, my water broke. But by this point, contractions were heavy enough that I couldn't even pretend to sleep through them. I was up and down to the toilet frequently and very uncomfortable. Pitocin was at 22.
The nurse, bless her sweet heart, "conveniently" had to change my sheets at one point, which allowed me to get out of bed and labor standing up. Another time she found some sort of cushion-y thing and took off my sheets to put it underneath so I could have a softer "experience". This let me stand up and make hip circles, sway, etc. while holding onto Kevin...which was "not allowed". So much better than being uncomfortable in a bed and longing for the tub.
I said out-loud so many times, "I want to get in the tub." "Why can't I get in the tub." "Why would anyone choose to be laying in bed laboring?" "Can I get in the tub?" All of the discomfort would have been fixed if I could have labored in the water and I was so upset that I couldn't. Again, a fall risk...but if I'm sitting down, is it considered a fall? At one point, Big Hands was in the room and I made some comment about how I longed for the sweet, sweet waters of the bathtub. Instead of sympathetically agreeing that this was a bad situation and not my birth plan and she was sorry I couldn't labor in the tub, she decided to inform me of the reasons why I couldn't get in the tub...namely because I was hooked up to magnesium and my blood pressure was a concern. Very clinical. No bedside manner, no understanding of my displeasure with this horrible plight. I had been fairly quiet up until this point, but I snapped back, "It was a rhetorical question." I might have said more. I might have ended with "lady." But the message was clear. I understand it, I'm just not pleased with it and if you could humor me and play nice, that would be peachy. Kevin will note that this made everything really awkward in the room. If you know me, you know that I don't (and didn't) care.
At one point I was asked a question and I couldn't answer it. I even responded in some capacity saying, "I don't know" or "I can't decide". I just remember the nurse saying "It's so good that you can't make up your mind, it means you're in active labor." What a positive thing to hear! She was such a calming presence and gave me encouraging words throughout labor which was WAY more than Big Hands ever did. God Bless Labor and Delivery Nurses!
Around this time I was getting back into bed from the bathroom. I was so uncomfortable. The fetal monitors on my stomach were pressing into me and I was feeling agitated and trapped. I mentioned that to someone, but before they could change things about them, I ripped them off. This did not make Big Hands happy. When I got back in bed, it was 5:21am. I got on my knees and was grabbing the top of the raised bed, hugging the head of the bed for support and resting my head on the top of the bed looking towards the wall (but with my eyes closed).
I was very uncomfortable and I remember thinking 'I haven't felt the urge to push yet and this is pretty painful...it's going to be a long labor if I'm not even feeling like pushing yet.' The nurse said something reassuring to me. I now can't remember what it was and that kills me because she was the person in the room that with her one encouraging statement allowed me to continue on. It was something simple like "you're doing great." and it was EVERYTHING! And I was also thinking if the pain continued, I might have to call in the anesthesiologist-I was starting to feel defeat. But I'm also so stubborn and wanted it my way. If I could get to the pushing stage, I knew I'd be fine, but it didn't seem like that was going to come anytime soon. I was silently pleading with God. 'Lord, give me endurance. Give me strength. Help me do this.' And just then, out of nowhere, I felt the urge to push. It was 5:34am and my medical records say I was "spontaneously bearing down". I remember Big Hands saying something about the head being there, but there being something in the way. I think she asked me to push as she helped move something inside of my body out of the way. I was completely dilated with the baby's head at +2 at 5:36am and in a push and a half, baby B2 was born. Seriously! I did my spontaneous push and the push to get the "thing" out of the way and baby was here!
The sweet nurse exclaimed, "Oh Boy!" and I just knew it was a boy. I said, "What? It's a boy??", and she said, "Oh, I don't know, I was just excited." None of the night nurses thought a lady coming in to be induced at 9pm would have a baby before shift change at 7am. I managed to flip around in bed into a sitting position as baby was completely delivered and we learned it was a baby girl! She came into the world with an arm straight up in the air...GIRL POWER...and caused a 2nd degree tear. As she was put on my chest, I was instructed to give a small push to deliver the placenta and attempted breastfeeding right away.
Hormones were coursing through my body. I had the shakes and I was so cold. The nurse brought in warm blankets, but I remember saying aloud to myself, "I'm on a warm beach, I'm on a warm beach." I was trying to imagine the warmth so my body would relax and not tense up. Little girl was also cold and was grunting. She came so fast, there wasn't time for the fluid in her lungs to get pressed out. So the NICU team had to be called in to evaluate her and put her under some heat lamps to warm up. In no-time she was okay (although the grunting continued for weeks) and I was getting stitched up. I tell you what, shots of lidocaine in your lady parts is almost the worst part of the whole ordeal, so I happily got stitched up with some areas not numb because the shot hurt more than just feeling the needle.
We had time to cuddle and attempt breastfeeding and then the sun was coming up and I was so, so tired! 
I don't remember many details after that. I slept as much as possible. I was a zombie from the magnesium that I had to stay on for at least another 24 hours. Pitocin was cranked up to 250 to prevent postpartum hemorrhaging (a risk with preeclampsia). And sweet baby, now named Elizabeth Violet, was drowsy from getting the magnesium in the womb as well!
My chart says at 4:45am I SROM'd (Spontaneous Rupture of Membranes) for clear fluid and quickly became more uncomfortable. Basically, my water broke. But by this point, contractions were heavy enough that I couldn't even pretend to sleep through them. I was up and down to the toilet frequently and very uncomfortable. Pitocin was at 22.
The nurse, bless her sweet heart, "conveniently" had to change my sheets at one point, which allowed me to get out of bed and labor standing up. Another time she found some sort of cushion-y thing and took off my sheets to put it underneath so I could have a softer "experience". This let me stand up and make hip circles, sway, etc. while holding onto Kevin...which was "not allowed". So much better than being uncomfortable in a bed and longing for the tub.
I said out-loud so many times, "I want to get in the tub." "Why can't I get in the tub." "Why would anyone choose to be laying in bed laboring?" "Can I get in the tub?" All of the discomfort would have been fixed if I could have labored in the water and I was so upset that I couldn't. Again, a fall risk...but if I'm sitting down, is it considered a fall? At one point, Big Hands was in the room and I made some comment about how I longed for the sweet, sweet waters of the bathtub. Instead of sympathetically agreeing that this was a bad situation and not my birth plan and she was sorry I couldn't labor in the tub, she decided to inform me of the reasons why I couldn't get in the tub...namely because I was hooked up to magnesium and my blood pressure was a concern. Very clinical. No bedside manner, no understanding of my displeasure with this horrible plight. I had been fairly quiet up until this point, but I snapped back, "It was a rhetorical question." I might have said more. I might have ended with "lady." But the message was clear. I understand it, I'm just not pleased with it and if you could humor me and play nice, that would be peachy. Kevin will note that this made everything really awkward in the room. If you know me, you know that I don't (and didn't) care.
At one point I was asked a question and I couldn't answer it. I even responded in some capacity saying, "I don't know" or "I can't decide". I just remember the nurse saying "It's so good that you can't make up your mind, it means you're in active labor." What a positive thing to hear! She was such a calming presence and gave me encouraging words throughout labor which was WAY more than Big Hands ever did. God Bless Labor and Delivery Nurses!
Around this time I was getting back into bed from the bathroom. I was so uncomfortable. The fetal monitors on my stomach were pressing into me and I was feeling agitated and trapped. I mentioned that to someone, but before they could change things about them, I ripped them off. This did not make Big Hands happy. When I got back in bed, it was 5:21am. I got on my knees and was grabbing the top of the raised bed, hugging the head of the bed for support and resting my head on the top of the bed looking towards the wall (but with my eyes closed).
The sweet nurse exclaimed, "Oh Boy!" and I just knew it was a boy. I said, "What? It's a boy??", and she said, "Oh, I don't know, I was just excited." None of the night nurses thought a lady coming in to be induced at 9pm would have a baby before shift change at 7am. I managed to flip around in bed into a sitting position as baby was completely delivered and we learned it was a baby girl! She came into the world with an arm straight up in the air...GIRL POWER...and caused a 2nd degree tear. As she was put on my chest, I was instructed to give a small push to deliver the placenta and attempted breastfeeding right away.
Over in the afternoon, I got up for one of many trips to the bathroom and got really hot and just knew I was going to pass out and/or vomit. I told the nurse and she got me back in bed and flat so fast, I felt like I flew there. She had ice packs on me and got me to a "normal" state so fast, but at that point, I was still so loopy from the magnesium and didn't want to experience that sick/passing out feeling again...so I just wanted to sleep and not move. However, I couldn't even get comfortable before we were asked to pack up to move to the antepartum floor. That's short for "you had a baby, but there's still something wrong with you." And our hospital saga was not over...
