Peyton�s Arrival

Contractions started early morning on May 21, 2002. They were sporadic, but noticeable enough that I was glad my maternity leave had started the Friday before. I spend the day napping and wondering if this was it, or if I was experiencing the dreaded false labor.

As the day progressed, so did the pain. Several times I resorted to squatting on the floor, stretching my back, trying in vain to ease the tension.

By the time Larry and I went to bed that night, I knew I wouldn�t be sleeping for long and prayed that I could hold out on going to the hospital. My plan was to wait as long as possible at home so that I wasn�t walking the halls of Memorial West at 3:30 in the morning.

Midnight brought the regularity that I had been craving and fearing. Larry laid sleeping beside me as I watched the clock tick off the minutes.

20 minutes apart.

15 minutes apart.

10 minutes apart.

It was now about 2:30 in the morning and I got up to walk downstairs. My doctor had asked that I give him a call when the pains were regulating themselves.

I felt the slightest guilt making that phone call; since I had this nagging feeling that I wasn�t truly in labor. Although the contractions were definitely there, they weren�t as strong as I thought they should be.

My doctor called back and asked how I was doing. I told him ok. The contractions were almost every 10 minutes, but I was handling them. He told me to stay home till they were closer together, or I couldn�t handle the pain anymore.

After our call, I paced the kitchen floor a bit, then went back to bed.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Around 4:30, the pains were coming closer to every five minutes, and I decided to take a shower. After the shower, the tightening pretty much went away, but by then I was ready to head to the hospital and damn the consequences.

I woke Larry up about 5:15 and told him to get in the shower. He was disorientated and I think he expected me to be writhing around in pain.

Mom and Dad were the next phone call. They were planning on making the 10 hour drive when I was admitted to the hospital and I wanted to give them the heads up.

We walked through those double doors around 6:00 on the morning of Peyton�s due date.

The nurses were jabbering behind the counter and obviously did not realize I was in pain, because they took forever to check me in. The mask of pleasantness was concealing my aching desire to lie down quite well, I guess.

As the nurse read off the 10 page questionnaire, the smirk on her face made the fear in my belly grow that maybe this wasn�t it.

�Ok, let�s check you.�

Lovely.

�Oh. Wow. You�re at 7 cm.�

Alleluia!

Into the intercom, �Go on and admit her. She�s at 7.�

To me, �I thought for sure I would be sending you home!�

You and me both, honey.

Larry called both our parents as I was shown to the waiting and delivery room. I call it the waiting room, cause that�s what I did the rest of the morning. After arriving at the hospital at 7 centimeters, I thought for sure Peyton would pop out around 10.

At nine, my doctor arrived and broke my water. Until then I was still feeling the contractions, but nothing I couldn�t handle. There were some slight concerns because Peyton was facing up, rather than down as preferred. My hips and back ached with each contraction, but I still thought things were going well.

Then that first post water breaking contraction hit and whoa baby!

My back and hips felt like they were being ripped apart. The nurse explained it was because Peyton�s spine was digging into mine from the force from the muscles tightening.

I think I could have handled it if Larry would have known how to help. He was clueless and begged me to get the epidural.

The whole pregnancy I had hoped and planned for a med free birth, but without support, it was next to impossible. Larry and the nurse were telling me how much better it would be if I was numb.

So at 8 almost 9 centimeters, I caved.

Sweet heaven. I never thought being numb could feel so good.

The epidural was in. The pitocin was running.

Finally, at noon, 6 hours after checking in, I started practice pushing.

12:30 Still Pushing.

12:45 Still pushing with a couple of �Fuck this hurts� thrown in there for good measure.

1:00 My epidural was wearing off, so I suggested that we try the squat bar. Peyton was stuck at one position. They could see his head, but he wasn�t moving down.

They brought the mirror over, so I could tell a good push (from the butt) from a bad push (from the face). But when I saw the purplish hue my face was, I decided not to look anymore.

At 1:40, my doctor stopped coaching and walked to the head of the bed. Meconium was mixed in with the fluids from the amniotic sac. This basically means Peyton had pooped in the birth canal and we needed to get him out right away before he inhaled the yucky stuff.

My heart sank. I wanted Peyton to be safe, but I did not want a section. Fortunately, my doctor didn�t mention the dreaded C word and instead suggested that we try the vacuum.

He was going to suck my little guy right out of me.

Two pushes and sucks later, out popped a little head.

The cord was wrapped around his neck, so the doctor quickly cut his umbilical cord.

One more push and out Baby Peyton flew. Along with a gush of other stuff. It must have been a lot because my stomach instantly went flat and my doctor jumped back about 3 feet.

The nurses took Peyton over to the incubator, where they cleared his lungs and observed him due to the meconium. I was in good spirits as the doctor sewed my small tear up, assuring me that it was normal for a first time mom and not too bad.

I didn�t care. I was just glad the hard part was over and Peyton was ok. I was also thankful Larry hadn�t fainted during the process. He generally gets queasy just looking at needles or blood.

Finally, about two hours later, but what seemed like forever, I was able to hold my little munchkin.

I haven�t let go since.