A lot of time has passed since my last post. Or atleast a lot of things have happened in that space of time to make it seem like it was forever. Either way, my life has changd completely.
October 26, 2012 my family and I made the journey to Ninewells Hospital in Dundee, Scotland, so that I could be induced for labor. My due date, October 13, had come and gone, and the midwives would not let me carry on any longer. So, with a very nervous, slightly heavy heart, Randy and I entered the labour ward 37, and made ourselves comfortable. A young midwife came by and explained the process of being induced to us, and to our astonishment, said it would be 36 hours before I was even in labour. I wanted to die then and there. 36 hours of this hospital?! It sounded horrible. She then told us that if the propess (the strip of fabric used to induce me) became unnattached, that they would not be able to reinsert it, and that they would have to find an alternative route to get baby AL here. Hearing this terrified me, and I prayed that the strip would stay in place.
Once it was inserted, I was free to walk around the hospital with my family. So we met up with them, and ate a less than great hospital dinner. Not long afterwards, my back began to feel uncomfortable. This was not new though since I was hugely pregnant, however it kept getting worse and worse. I soon had to accpet that the propess was doing its job, and I was going to have a night of possible agony.
At the suggestion of a midwife, we all decided to walk so I could help baby along. So walk we did.. or I did. Dad and Randy plopped down on a couch to discuss politics, while my mother made phone calls back to the states to let everybody know my news. I walked back and forth trying to find some relief for my back pain. Little did I know that this was nothing compared to what I'd soon be up against. As it began to get late, my parents went back to their B&B in town, and Randy walked me back to ward 37, and kept me company as I took a wonderful hot bath to help with the pain. And let me tell you, that bath was a miracle! It helped to ease my contractions, and being warm was a plus.
After my bath, Randy had to leave to go catch some sleep at the B&B, so I curled up, watched an episode or two of MASH then went to sleep until about 3am. I took two more baths, and then realized I had lost the propess strip. With much fear and shame I went to the midwife office and told them what happened. A very kind Russian midwife came and examined me, she told me it was not at all a problem, that I had since dialated to a 3 or 4 and should start walking and using the birthing ball as much as possible to help me water break. So with a giant ball under me, I watched Monk, and bounced away till about 9am when breakfast was served, and my wonderful husband appeared.
At this point I was exhausted. Contractions were coming and going and my back simply hurt. The midwives told us to walk walk walk, and to go sideways up and down the stairs. So this is what we did for the rest of the day. Walked. By about 4pm my contractions were full on, and very consistent. I couldnt bear to take them lying down, so I would wrap my arms around Randy's neck, and we would slowly dance in a circle. It was the only way I could focus on the contractions without falling over. It seemed though, that anytime we stopped to give me a break, the contractions would also stop. It was discouraging to me because I was so tired, I couldnt even use them ball to fight them. I simply had to walk to keep them going. Soon the contractions were unbearably strong, so we rushed back to the labour ward, just knowing that any minute now my baby would come (it was now about 7pm). The pain was getting to be to much to handle, so trying my best to go about it in a drug free manner, I opted for the gas to help with pain. After inhaling it for 2 minutes I put it down and wouldnt touch it again. I would rather fight the pain on my own then have that stuff. It made me dizzy and incredibly tired. The midwives kept trying to get me to take it back since I was now screaming in pain, but the horrible feeling it left was to much.
Finally they moved me to the labour suite, where I begged for another bath to help with the contractions. Knowing I wanted a natural, drug free birth, they decided to move me to the midwife until downstairs so I could use the birthing pools their. We waited what seemed like ages to be moved, and finally they took us down there and before the pool was even full, I climbed in, only to be chewed out by a less than friendly midwife. But, the pool worked against me, I became to relaxed and the contractions stopped again. So I pulled myself away from the precious warm water of the birthing pool, got dressed again, and we walked. I was exhausted, Randy was disheartened, but we walked. At about midnight we returned to the midwife unit and explained that even walking had stopped helping. No longer wanting to deal with my difficult case, and forseeing that I needed my water broken, they arranged to have me moved back to the labour suite. I felt crushed, I had wanted so badly to do this on my own, and having my water broken was intervention. But two hours later they moved us to the labour suite, and now with what contractions I was having I decided to go ahead and have an epidural.
I knew they would have to chemically up my contractions, so after what I had been feeling, I was ok with this pain preventor. So after more waiting, at about 3am, I got my epidural. It was horrible and scary, knowing what they were doing in my spine, not to mention I had started throwing up. Finally I had it in, it was working, and I fell asleep. I woke up later on to see my stomach crunching down on itself. I was in awful pain even with the epidural. They came and uped my dose, and to fight the pain I watched as my sweet husband slept on his mat. Later they came to check on my progress. I had dilated to a 7, and the baby was not only up to high but facing the wrong way. They had broken my water earlier, and that had not helped. They told me I should go in for a C section, but they would, in an hour let me try pushing just to see if it would help.
So one hour later, I pushed. And pushed. And pushed. Nothing. Baby had moved down some, and magically I was fully dialated, but it just wasnt going to happen. So they prepped my for a possible c-section, but first they would be trying the forceps.
They moved us into the operating room, got everything set up, me heavily drugged and got to work trying to turn my baby so I could push again. For 15 minutes they tried this, then told me it was time for a c-section. I held back my tears of defeat and looked to Randy, comforted to know that soon, baby would be with us, in his arms, and safe. Randy smiled at me, touched my face, and talked to me about furbies... yes those awful fuzzy toys from the 90s.
Then it happened. I heard a cry. A small, muffled cry of a baby. The doctors laughed, and said "crying before your even out of the womb". And I cried too, my baby was okay, I could it, and I loved it so much! Randy and I held eachothers gaze, smiling. Next thing I knew, the doctors were holding up a baby, exclaiming at the massive size of it, and saying it was no wonder it wouldnt turn!
Then they held it up for me to see. There she was. Perfect. Purple. Crying. And Beautiful. Newborns werent supposed to be beautiful, but this one was.
They took her back and cleaned her up, bringing her back to Randy to hold. She was so peaceful in his arms, she must have known how loved and safe she was. She simply sat there looking for food, and being held.
We both fell inlove with her. 45 hours of labour. Here was our Annika.
