Be careful what you wish for...

On Saturday, February 13 at approximately 4:45 pm Tori turned to me as we were walking home from the store and said, "I wish my water would break so I would just know." At around 5:45 I was in the kitchen doing dishes when Tori said, "Whoa!" She ran to the bathroom and discovered that, indeed, her water had broken.

Now Tori and I had been planning a Bradley Method Birth. As little intervention as possible from doctors. As natural as possible. The first thing to do was to wait until Tori was in active labor before leaving for the hospital. Once you go to the hospital with broken water, they have to admit you, no matter how dilated you are. Also, it starts a clock. You now have 12 hours to go into labor because of the risk of infection. So, Tori and I waited for labor to start. We walked. And walked. And waited. And walked some more. I timed contractions. Finally, around 10 pm it seemed like Tori was in active labor. Her contractions were getting more intense, she looked focused and business-like. We decided she should take a shower to be relaxed, I would get together the last of our things, and we would drive the 20 minutes to Kaiser.

We got in the car and arrived at Kaiser shortly before midnight. After and extremely long, and painful triage visit from the least friendly nurse ever (Tori described it as being violated when she was examined), we found out that not only was Tori not in labor, but she had actually gone backwards from her last exam where she was dilated to 1.5 cm. (For those of you who haven't been pregnant or around a pregnancy, the magic number is 10 cm.) She was at 0 cm. or maybe .5. This was the worst thing that could have happened for our plans of natural labor. We were admitted on the spot and unable to leave. But, because of the bag of waters being broken, Tori had to be immediately started on penicillin through an IV to hold off risk of infection. The key to the Bradley Method is relaxation. This was not a relaxing situation.

We got to sleep at close to 3 am and Tori was constantly awoken to painful doses of penicillin (she said it felt like a solid going through her arm) and the nurses checking her temperature and blood pressure to look for signs of infection. The doses of penicillin took 30 minutes at the least to administer. Tori couldn't sleep during this time. They were giving her the doses every 4 hours. Every 2 hours they were checking her temperature and her blood pressure monitor went off every 20 minutes (and for a long stretch set off an alarm in the room every time it went off). Again, this was not a relaxing situation.

PITOCIN

In the morning, the doctors came in and told us at 8 am (we had added a few hours to when the water broke so that they would give us more time) that Tori would have to go on Pitocin, a drug that helps stimulate labor, but in the most painful way. The doctor was very kind and even gave Tori a few hours to rest (after we had given up on trying to induce in natural ways). So, at around 11:30 am on Sunday, Tori was given the drug. She was in labor on Pitocin for the next 20 hours. She was in extreme pain and was determined not to take any medication to ease her discomfort, all the while still receiving her doses of penocillin. Because of the I.V. that was in her arm constantly, she remained hydrated. This posed another problem. Every time she got comfortable, she had to go to the bathroom. This meant we had to disconnect the blood pressure monitor from her arm, the external fetal monitor from her belly, the I.V. drip from the wall, and the ridiculous leg stimulators to keep her blood flowing in her legs to prevent a blood clot . Tori started saying that she wanted a catheter just so she wouldn't have to get up. Not a relaxing situation.

For me, the hardest part of it was that it seemed like she was half machine. I couldn't hold her. I couldn't help her. All I could do was push on her back, when a contraction came, to help ease the pain. For any husband to have to do something like that is difficult. For me, already an emotional wreck, it was unbearable. Tori handled it all a lot better than I did. She was amazing.

EPIDURAL

Somewhere in the early morning hours, Tori's mother took a shift helping her and I grabbed some much needed sleep. I awoke to find out that Tori had made the choice to up the dosage on the Pitocin because whe was still not fully dilated and we were running out of time before they would insist on a cesarean. This meant that the pain would be too much for her and would necessitate an epidural. At least, the logic went, she would be able to rest all day while her uterus contracted, and then the drugs would wear off and she would be fully present and rested to have the baby. That was the plan, at least.

When they were administering the epidural, Tori's mother, Toni, and I, were forced to leave the room. We went down to the cafeteria to get some delicious hospital food. We came back to find that while they were administering the epidural, Tori's blood pressure dropped dramatically and they lost the baby's pulse. Tori told me that, suddenly, there were 10 more people in the room panicking. She stayed calm. But because of that, they attached her to an oxygen tank, a heart rate monitor, an internal fetal monitor, and a catheter. They also told her to lay on her left side and not to move. Not a relaxing situation.

The worst part of this experience was during a shift change. The nurses had to change her epidural medication cartridge (that's right, a cartridge!). While doing this, they put a clip on the line so there were no air bubbles or leakage. Well, in the confusion, the nurse who clipped it, didn't unclip it. The highest dosage of pitocin that they could give Tori was a 20. She was a receiving a dose of 16. She started to fuss. We told her to hit her little button to up her dosage of pain medication temporarily. It didn't work. After an hour of growing discomfort to the point of real pain, we asked the nursing staff to look at it. Either they, or the anesthesiologist, noticed the problem. She was receiving no pain medication! For an hour! Not a relaxing situation!


THE NEWS


At 8 o'clock, 50 hours from the time Tori's water broke (as far as the doctors knew, it was 48), Dr. Williams came in and checked Tori. Earlier in the day, she had dilated to 4 or 5 cm. She was still at 4 or 5 cm. Labor was not progressing, even with the highest dosage of pitocin. In fact, her cervix was swelling from the pressure of Jack pushing down on it. There was really no choice. Tori had to have a c-section. Not a relaxing situation!

Immediately, once we consented, the staff started prepping Tori for surgery. I was frazzled and couldn't think. Luckily, Tori's sister, Francesca, had taken Bradley Method classes as well and had remembered her workbook from the class. She started asking questions and making requests. She was really a life-saver. She demanded that Tori's arms be free so she could touch the baby when he was brought to us (they normally strap the mother's arms down). She told them that once the baby was born and measured and weighed that I was to stay with the baby at all times and that I would do "skin-to-skin" with the baby. This is where you literally lay the naked baby on your bare chest. This helps the baby's adjustment to the outside world. It helps regulate the baby's temperature, heart rate, breathing rate, and blood sugar levels. She also fought, unsuccessfully, for them to lower the screen so we could watch the surgery. Without Francesca's presence of mind, I don't know what would have happened.


THE SURGERY

Tori was wheeled off, Cesca and Toni had to leave, and I had to climb into my surgical outfit. They left me in the hall by myself with no one to talk to and nothing to look at aside from a maintenance closet. I fired off some texts, to let people know what was happening, broke down a few times, pulled myself together, broke down again, and finally was admitted into the operating room. I was seated at Tori's head, behind a drape that separated us from the rest of her body. She was calm, but she was shivering violently (her nervous system's reaction to the drugs). The surgical team was incredible! We had one of our favorite nurses. The anesthesiologist was extremely kind (he was the one who gave Tori all of her requests), and the surgical team was extremely positive and focused.

At 9:12, (after a full minute of me holding my breath, hoping Jack wouldn't be born at 9:11) we heard the doctors say, "Moment of birth, 21:12". And then we heard it. The cry of our son. Suddenly, there he was. The little bugger that all of this was all about. He was actually in the room with us. We could hear his little voice. I can honestly say, Tori and I have never been happier. They brought him around the drape for us to see him. He was perfect! Tori reached out and touched his little foot. It was incredible. This little guy that had been living inside of her for so long, and she was able to finally see him and hear him. And touch him.

That's Jack, seconds after his birth. And that's Tori's hand touching him for the first time. The biggest moment of our lives, all three of us, and it is captured in this picture.

Through this whole experience, the ups and the downs, I think I had lost sight of what it was all really about. That little squishy face. And all of that emotion and drama, I have to say, it was beyond worth it. I fell in love instantly with that little man, and I fell even more in love with his mommy. I have never, ever been happier. Who cares about work? Who cares about the economy? Who cares? We're a family! And my life feels complete.