I am going to put this in my journal, so this is the unabridged version...sorry for all the lengthy details! You may not really want to read this!!!
On Monday December 1st, I had one of my regular twice-weekly visits with the doctor, and he mentioned something about stripping my membranes. I had no idea what that meant, but I simply told him that I did not want to be induced. Well, I went home and called everyone I knew who might be able to tell me more, since at the moment the doc told me I didn't even want to ask questions about it. I learned, over the process of asking around, that it really isn't induction and that it will only take if your body is ready to have the baby anyway. I still had an internal battle going on all week about whether or not I wanted to do it, and even when I went in for my appointment on Friday the doc said he'd be happy to do it and promised me it wouldn't hurt the baby. I told him I wasn't worried about it hurting the baby, but that I am just a quirky person about some things. What it all boiled down to was wondering if I would feel guilty that I didn't just let her come in God's good time, which I would normally have done, except that we were hoping to head to Arizona on the 20th of December and I just wanted the baby to have time to get bigger and for me to have time to recover. I still wasn't decided on Saturday morning but knew the doc was in the office that morning, and when Corban asked if I was going to do it, I told him I didn't think so because there was too much house to be cleaned and too much to do still (including Corban's big online final that was due early Monday morning). He was under the impression that even if stripping my membranes did work, we'd be able to come home for several hours while my body started the labor process and he'd be able to do his test and help clean up around the house. I told Corb I wasn't going to do it alone because I'd heard it hurts to get it done, and I also didn't want to be stuck driving myself if I went into labor right away or anything.
We headed to the doctor's together, and around 1:30 PM he stripped my membranes, telling me I was already dilated to a 4.5 and effaced to 80 or 90%. I don't even remember what the stripping felt like...I certainly wouldn't say it hurt, although it was a tad uncomfortable. (Anything pales in comparison to labor, though, right!?) The doc told us that it might work better if I kept moving and walking around for the rest of the day, if I was able to do so, and I asked him what the chances were that it would work. He said that being as dilated and effaced as I was, he would probably see me soon. We called the doula after getting our of the doc's office and she said that she has known people who had their membranes stripped being dilated to a 5 who still didn't go into labor for several weeks, hence the uncertainty that follows about whether or not I was really going into labor.
Wanting to take the doc's advice, Corb and I decided to do our regular grocery store hopping. We always start at one store and look for all the sales and then move on to the other 3 grocery stores. We figured doing this would allow me to get some walking in and not get too far from the car! Walking through the first store, I started feeling like I was having contractions, but with this being my first baby, I wasn't so sure they were the real deal or not, and I didn't want to make much ado about nothing. We proceeded on to the next store, and while we were walking through the parking lot, I had what seemed to be a pretty serious contraction, and I stopped and leaned on Corban. Some guy who was ringing a Christmas bell came up and asked Corban what he did to my leg. (Corb said afterwards that I had lifted up my leg when I leaned on him). I told the guy there was nothing wrong with my leg, that I was in labor. I saw some other people staring at me too. Wo we walked through the store and I started having more frequent contractions...or were they contractions? I realized I didn't like all the people staring at me, so I headed down an empty aisle for the most painful one of all. I told Corban I was ready for the next store, and as we were walking to the car, I decided I just wanted to go home so people would stop looking at me. On the drive home, we got stuck in parade traffic, and I started having some contractions that were a minute and a half long. They were pretty intense, but still I didn't want to go to the hosptial...especially since if laboring took me several hours, they wouldn't let me leave if I got there being dilated to a 4 or more. On the way home, Corb asked if he could wash his car. Bless his heart, he is so embarassed and doesn't want anyone to know he washed the car, but I told him to go ahead and do it. I didn't care...so long as I wasn't at the hospital and people weren't staring at me anymore. I wanted to be certain I was in labor before we headed to the hospital. We got home at 2:45 and I just wanted to kneel on the floor with my elbows on the couch, and I finally consented to go to the hospital after what seemed like two very serious contractions. Corb had already packed all the bags in the car, so we got in and Corb was driving as quickly as he could. At one point, the seatbelt felt tight on my stomach and I cried out, "It's tight! It's too tight! Make it stop!" Corb leaned over and undid the seatbelt. (Of course I hadn't even thought of that!)
At 3, I walked in to Labor and Delivery and didn't even stop to sign in. I said, "I need to go to the bathroom! I need to go to the bathroom!" I'd been feeling that sensation since grocery store number one but I couldn't go, but I wanted to try again! One of the nurses came out and took me to a delivery room. She told me to put a gown on when I got done in the bathroom, and I remember the few minutes that followed as being the only moments that I got "angry" during the labor. I tried getting the gown on and I could only find ONE arm hole. Where the heck was the other one? I cried out to the nurse to come and help me, and after she got it on, she told me I had to sit on the bed. I said, "I don't WANT to sit on the bed! It hurts to sit down!" She urged me to sit down for a few minutes while they measured the contractions and the baby's heart rate, so I sat down for an unbearable few minutes, learning that I was dilated to a 7. I asked, "If I change my mind and want an epidural, can I still get one?" They told me I'd have this baby before I'd even have time to get an epidural. So I asked, "What if I want to get in the bathtub!?" They moved me to another room and turned on the bathtub. I sat in the tub with my head on Corban's lap, forgetting the intensity of the contractions as he gently stroked my cheek (I KNEW they were contractions by this point...not sure when I truly realized they were, though!) Sadly, after about 15 minutes, they made me get out of the tub, certain I was starting to have the baby and not being "equipped" to deliver a baby in the water. Begrudgingly, I got on the bed and learned I was dilated to a 10. They called the doc and told him to get to the hospital, and I heard them say something about "the only thing keeping the baby from coming was the bag of waters." The doc arrived quickly and broke my water, which was at the top of my list of the two things I enjoyed most about labor...my water breaking and Corban stroking my cheek. I just loved how warm the water was...it was such a comforting feeling amidst the discomfort of the contractions.
From that moment, Ahhhhh!!! Labor began. Corban had tried to call the doula but couldn't get a hold of her, so I thought, "Here we go. We're just gonna do this." I didn't really feel comfortable with these nurses who were total strangers and can't tell you how grateful I felt when the Bishop's wife (a nurse) showed up and taught me how to push. If it wasn't for her, that baby may still be trying to come into this world even today! She coached me to "hold my breath, make it count." So I held my breath and pushed. It was so intense I could barely stand the pushing. I got used to pushing twice even though the doctor asked for three every time. Towards the end, I got better. There was a mirror so I could watch the whole thing, but I got frustrated when the doc kept asking, "There's a lot of dark hair! Do you see all that hair?" And I wanted to scream (maybe I did), "I don't see ANYTHING!" I wanted to see it, I wanted her to come so the pushing would end, and not seeing it made it seem like it would last FOREVER! I started crying, "How long is this going to take? This is going to take forever. I can't do this! Please just do a C-section! I can't do this! Is this pushing really doing anything!?" The doctor and the Bishop's wife reassured me that I was making a difference with every push, but in my mind I imagined that I was taking too long and the doctor wanted to go home. He was so patient with me. He kept doing perineal massages, which I did NOT like one bit...they were terribly uncomfrotable, but I figured he knew what he was doing to get her to come faster, so I didn't ask him to stop. I did, however, ask the nurses multiple times to stop putting the fetal heart monitor on me. "It's uncomfortable! Take it off. I don't want it touching my stomach! Please!" I probably said that half a dozen times, but they weren't listening to me! They insisted that they wanted to make sure the baby wasn't in distress. Finally, at 4:55 PM, having gotten to the hospital at 3, I gave one final push with a searing burning pain (the only part of the whole labor that I would say actually hurt...the rest of it I would say was just an intensity that seemed unbearable) and our little Corelle Elyse Christensen came into the world...7 pounds even, 18 inches long. I watched her daddy cut the cord, which he had expressed not being sure he'd be able to do over the last several months, and the baby was handed to me. I was so inexplicably happy. I just held her and stared, noticing first her beautiful little lips, then her DARK hair and blue eyes. What an amazing thing I had just done! My eyes had never beheld such beauty.
The pain that followed is a blur. I don't even associate it with labor, as the labor brought me my baby...the pain was unnecessar! The complications that followed, they reassured me, don't happen to most women, and "probably won't happen again in subsequent births," which was a good thing to hear because I'd already said, "I'm done. I'm not doing this again." To which Corban smiled and said, "You're done for now!" The doctor told me he had to stitch internal tears and was worried about my excessive bleeding and clotting. It literally lasted more than 10 times longer than the birth, which was only TWO hours! Every hour they came in and pushed on my poor tender tummy, giving me lots of pain medications that brought on nausea and vomiting. I kept asking for a shower, but they insisted that with as much blood as I had lost, I was not getting out of that bed. Nevertheless, I continued asking relentlessly, and I am sure I really was in no condition to be standing up at all! Sometime in the middle of the night, they decided I was stable enough to move me into a recovery room. I was in and out of sleep all night, with the pain and the sounds of the hospital and nurses coming in all night to make sure I was okay. At 3 AM, the door opened and I rolled over to see which pain would be inflicted upon me next, and I got the surprise of my life! In walked my mom and my sister-in-law, Amy, having just driven 9 hours from Arizona ! I hadn't expected to see my mom until Christmas!!! I said, "What are you doing!?" For two hours, we talked and admired Corelle and they finally went to my house to get some rest. The next two days were the best days of my life. Although they kept me longer than usual because of all the complications, I had a lot of time to just hold and bond with my little Corelle. Oh, and after noon the next day, I finally got my shower. I was glad my mom was there because I was so lightheaded I could barely stand up in the shower. It was nice to have my mom there! What daughter wouldn't want her mom there to help her after a rough labor! We had lots of visitors while in the hospital and everyone who came to see Corelle said she looks just like her daddy, but I think she looks like me. (Not that I mind if she looks like her daddy, but I don't see it!)
