It started Monday night, Cullen and I checked into the Women's Hospital just before 8 to begin induction. After answering a gazillion questions I took half of a pill that would help me begin my labor. I took it at 8, 12, and a last dose at 4. At about 9 that night they gave me my IV, which was the most painful one I have ever had put in. I'm not sure why, but for about 6 hours I could feel that IV in my vein. I guess after that, I just got use to the feeling.
By seven the next morning they were changing me to another room so that could pull my vital signs, apparently they were having computer issues.
At 8 Tuesday morning, they began my Pitocin drip. At 9:30 my water spontaneously broke. I was a little fearful that the contractions were going to get bad quickly but they were pretty manageable until about 2:00.
Now I also had a game plan for how the day was to go. I had gone over my goals with Cullen time and time again.
-One goal- no Stadol, because I had heard it made you loopy (like that was a bad thing).
-Next goal- no epidural until at least 4 cm.
-Final goal- NO C-section.
At 2:00, I was slowly coming unglued. They offered me my epidural, but I was not anywhere near my goal, and so I was in a sad state. I opted for the stadol. Yes, almost instantly I felt loopy. I couldn't hold my eyes open and they assured me the effects would only last about an hour, and at least I would be able to get some rest. Apparently rest is what I needed, because within the hour I was making progress, all while I slept through it.
After waking up, I remember people coming in an out, and I remember that my contractions once again began to hurt, and they progressively got worse...worse because while I was under the spell of stadol....they bumped my pitocin up in increments.
By 4:00 again, they were talking epidural. And I was about to give in, Cullen came back in to the room and quickly said, no way. If they could hurt worse then you can wait. I was so glad I made him promise me he would help me keep my goals. So as I thought I was close to death, but telling myself that they could be worse, they checked me and told me I was where I had wanted to be. I told them...bring on the epidural. Yeah, that meant, bring on the bag of fluid that takes forever to run through, before they attempt to give you an epidural. That waiting period was awful. I remember telling the nurse, I thought I was about to get sick and she said that if I did it was no big deal. I remember thinking...you haven't seen me get sick...it is not pretty...and also I thought...she could get me some meds to prevent it...right?
Okay so the next 30 minutes were absolutely awful, but Cullen was there the whole time being supportive. I only remember snapping at him once. He was trying to divert my attention and give me some gum. As he was trying to help me breath through the pain, I told him he was gonna have to spit his gum out or I was gonna vomit on him. He instantly swallowed his gum and never checked up. It didn't work, I got sick and it was not pretty. So then the man with the medicine came in and asked me 342 questions. One being how much I weighed. Why must they ask that question in front of my husband. I answered him in a snap with "a WHOLE bunch" and the nurse pointed to the screen and he copied the number from the screen.
He then came back in made me sign stuff and then started giving me directions like move to the left, scoot forward and try to sit up more. I told him he would have to scoot me, pull me, or push me, because I could no longer think clearly about directions. Cullen had to leave the room and my main concern was sitting still between contractions, and getting sick. Thankfully, my nurse was precious. After the initial medicine took effect, I was still hurting, but I remember telling the anesthesiologist, I was normally a more delightful person. He giggled, but I was serious.
I writhed around a bit more and they wound up giving me more meds to "top me off" they said. Then I was back to my normal self...KINDA. Right after Cullen was able to come back into the room and my mom was there, too. Somewhere around the time I was feeling relief, several nurses rush in, sit me up, prop me on my side and put me on oxygen. The baby's heart rate had dropped, but in my state of stadol hangover and epidural glee, I don't remember a whole bunch of this.
Leslie came in and reapplied my makeup, we took pictures, and I visited with the visitors who had been sitting patiently in the waiting room. The oxygen came off.
After the break from pushing and then beginning again, the time was rocking on toward 9:30. Dr. Young came in and said we might use the vacuum. I talked percentages of success. Once he said 90% I was all on board. Just before it things got moving, I asked if we could all just stop and let Meagan lead us in a prayer. I can say now, it was the sweetest most heart felt prayer Cullen and I have ever heard. We were both in tears, nurses were snubbing and Dr. Young was ready to work.
At 10:05 Baby Boy Pollard came into this world. I was a little horrified at his cone head, but can say now after about a day and half it rounded out nicely. I had a plan for how things were going to go even after his arrival. After about an hour of picture taking and loving on our sweet baby boy, we let my mom come back and then Cullen's parents and after they had their time we let the waiting room come on in. In my mind it was about 7 at night, looking back it was almost midnight and my sweet friends had stayed the course and had waited to see and love on Baby Jett. It was a surreal moment, and one I'm so grateful I got to experience surrounded by friends and family.