Alright, hate is a strong word. But I’m still using it. After my water broke (just after 2 am) we went back to the hospital. We got put in a room and introduced to our new nurse. We told her we were back because my water broke and she seemed skeptical. She couldn’t confirm with the pH swabs that it was actually broken (she was so stupid I’m not even going to go into it.) She checked me and I was at 4 cm. So she puts me on the monitors and leaves the room. Immediately Brian notices that the monitor that’s supposed to be for my contractions? Not picking up anything. And the monitor for the baby? Picking up my heart rate. She comes back 20 minutes or so later to adjust the monitor for the baby, but as soon as she leaves it’s picking up my heart rate again. She comes back after another 15 minutes or so and tells me I’m going to have to lie down because she can’t get the baby on the monitor. I told her no because a) having contractions lying down was WAY more painful and b) the other nurse managed to keep the baby on the monitor. So she adjusts the monitor once more and leaves. And after she leaves? Monitor is picking up MY heart rate again. At this point I adjusted the monitor myself. I found the baby just fine THANKYOUVERYMUCH and managed to keep him on the monitor until the next time she checked on me.
I’d been there for about an hour when she called my doctor. And I’m pretty sure the conversation involved this nurse telling my doctor that I *thought* my water broke but that it hadn’t and that I wasn’t really having contractions (because that contraction monitor? Never adjusted, so it was never picking up anything.) So my doctor told my nurse to have me walk around for 2 hours. And when the nurse told us that, the first thing Brian said was, “I don’t think she’s going to make it 2 hours.” But she left and I “walked” around the room for about an hour. Mostly I stood leaned over the sink or the table in the room. And after an hour my legs were so shaky I was a little worried that I would fall (I am sure this was a result of the TIRED and not the contractions) so I got back in bed and got monitored there for another hour or so. Then my nice nurse from earlier came in and checked me and I was at about 4.5 cm. This was just before 5 am Tuesday morning. At this point they called my doctor again and she okayed my getting an epidural.
First I needed an IV. Remember that my first nurse got the IV on the first try? Right, well, they should have just left that one there because this nurse couldn’t get one. And then the anesthesiologist came in and HE couldn’t get one. They stuck me in like 7 places and it took an HOUR before they finally had an IV placed. At this point I’d been having contractions for a million years (alright, only since Sunday afternoon) and I’d been awake for over 24 hours. I was SO tired that I was actually nodding off while sitting up and having them stick needles in me trying to get the IV. All I wanted was to sleep. After they FINALLY got the IV they gave me some fentanyl so I wouldn’t feel the contractions while the anesthesiologist placed the epidural. I wouldn’t have thought I could be MORE tired but the fentanyl did it. Brian was worried I would fall asleep and fall off the bed while they did the epidural. (He was worried about that because I was leaning on him while they did it.)
So, IV in, epidural done, and my doctor gets there. She tells me she’s going to check me and break my water. I told her it already broke but obviously this nurse told her otherwise because she just said, “well, we’ll see.” But then she checks and says that, yes, it’s definitely already broken. (We were glad to note that the nurse was there to hear that.) And I was at 5 cm. My doctor said the plan now was for everyone to have a nap and then wake up and have a baby! Sounds like a good plan to me.