On Thursday June 7th, Marc and I headed into the hospital for an evening induction.  We were told all about the procedure, a balloon catheter would be inserted along with a medication to help prep my cervix and get the labor party started.  Sounded super fun.  I knew it meant we were one step closer to meeting our little princess so I took it in stride.

After hours of sitting in the waiting room, watching women in active labor coming in screaming, things started to get real very fast.  Eventually Marc and I were brought back to a hospital room and my parents anxiously sat in a different waiting room wringing their hands out.

It came as no surprise to me that as the nurse came in to explain the process and handed me my hospital gown, I got very nervous.  What happens when you get nervous? Yup.  Your blood pressure goes up! That combined with my new diagnosis of preeclampsia, set me on a roller coaster ride.  I was given blood pressure medication for the first time in my life along with magnesium to prevent seizures and calm me down.  Two catheters and my first dose of meds later and I felt like I was placed in some sort of mid evil torture chamber! The pain was AWFUL. I had an electronic blood pressure cuff on that would tighten and test every 15 minutes, IV’s in my hand, and boy was I getting scared.

As the hours passed the contractions began.  Ladies, I know I spoke of myths and truths but spoiler alert: CONTRACTIONS HURT LIKE A #$#%. This is no urban legend.  Every 4 hours a resident would come in and check my progress and after I was done squealing with pain they simply shake their heads and give me another dose of meds. The Dr. told us this medication can only be administered 6 times, that means a check every 4 hours, so 24 hours of this treatment plan.  Yikes.

Friday morning came and no progress, just intense contractions.  I was politely offered an epidural and I said yes before the word left the Dr.’s mouth.  Moments later an anesthesiologist was prepping me for my third (and favorite) catheter, a spinal one for the epidural.  The procedure of inserting it wasn’t as awful as I heard.  I felt a rush of a cold sensation in my back and my left leg had short “sparks” of tingling and then I felt relief.  The contractions disappeared as did most of my leg mobility.  I thought to myself, this isn’t so bad!

Hours later the novelty wore off.  I couldn’t get comfortable and needed assistance from my husband, nurse and/or parents to re-position myself in the bed.  It felt like it took an army and then once I shimmied to the position I desired, I quickly would discover that too was uncomfortable.  As Friday turned into Saturday I still hadn’t progressed and my pressure was responding to the aggravation my body was feeling.  In the middle of the night one of the nice residents came in for her “progress check.”  When she nodded that there was no change and I only had one treatment left of this protocol I asked her if we could have real girl talk.

As I have mentioned time and time again throughout my blog, ALWAYS, ALWAYS ADVOCATE FOR YOURSELF.  I told the sweet young Dr. that I knew my body and this was just not going to work.  She said in the morning she would review with the Dr. and probably start me on Pitocin to see if that could do the trick and if not, a c-section would be the only other option.  I took a deep breath and calmly told her I did not want to follow their plan.  I expressed my concern and in a very matter of fact tone I told her that after 2 nights of no sleep, 2 days of not eating and no progression this was not safe for my baby or my ever-changing blood pressure.  I shared my concern that in the morning if they were to put me on a different treatment plan, one of two things would happen.  The day would go by and I would still have not progressed, or I would and after 3 days immobile in bed with no sleep or food I would have no strength what so ever to deliver this baby.  I voiced my preference for a c-section.

The resident nodded in a true sign of good bedside manner and understood where I was coming from.  She said she would consult the Dr. and share my concerns. Remember, this is your body and your baby.  You know what is right for you.  As they say in Gypsy “Sing out Louise!” In other words, speak up!