It's been quite an adventure.

I went five days past my due date after an emotionally intense and life-changing pregnancy.  My fiance and I moved from Arlington, Virginia, to New York City and lived with his mother for two months while we searched for an apartment in Brooklyn that fit all our needs.  We did not find the brownstone with a backyard we sought, but a high rise that has all the amenities new parents need for surviving the first year or so.  Our car is in the garage in the building, although at quite a cost, we can have groceries delivered to the cold storage room, there's a gym, and a host of new parents with whom to share our experiences. 

I left my comfy teaching job with one of the best school systems in the country in hopes that my certifications in Virginia and Maryland would transfer easily to New York.  That wasn't the case.  I've had to take two courses in order to be certified in New York, and hope there will be a job available in a school that suits me in February/March when I'm ready to go back to work.

Last Friday, December 3, I awoke at 4:30AM to some quick, fairly intense cramping in my lower abdomen I couldn't quite diagnose as 'contractions' but I was suspicious enough to look at the clock and get a sense of how far they were spaced.  In my dreamy state I gathered that they were coming at 6 minute intervals.  I went back to sleep between each one and didn't wake Ben, knowing that if it really was the start of labor it was going to be a long day and Ben would need to be well rested order to support me.  I called my OB at 8:30 and she told me that waiting game had started and that she'd check in with me every two hours.  Contractions progressed throughout the day until about 1:00, when the grandmothers called and I told them things had slowed down.  They brought lunch and by the time they arrived I was once again in serious pain.  I thought at the time that if the contractions continued to give me pain at that level I would certainly be able to give birth without an epidural.  I was using breathing and relaxation techniques, but not as effectively as I thought I would.  I cried a lot.

My doula came over shortly after that and once again the contractions lessened.  They were sporadic and not very strong.  We were getting tired already and I was hoping I wouldn't have to go another night without having a baby.  At 8:00 I went to be thinking I'd have mild contractions all night and wouldn't sleep well.  Between 8:00 and 9:30 I had just that.  I timed, slept, timed, slept, and then was hit with the most severe pain I'd felt all day.  I yelled for Ben, who did his best to calm me down and get me to breathe and relax.  When we realized the waves were coming at 3 minute intervals we called the doula again and she came over.  She said, "We don't need to hurry, but we're going to the hospital now."  Ben took our dog out for a final walk and pee, and Jen thought I was far enough along to call Ben and ask him to come back right away.  We made our way to a Manhattan-bound cab and climbed in just as another contraction started.  I had several on the way to the hospital (NYU at 31st and 1st) and the cabbie took it in style.  He even got out when we arrived to help me out of the car.

Two hours later I was still only a disappointing 3 cm dilated and in more pain than I could have imagined.  I don't know what I expected it to feel like, but it was on a magnitude I could not have prepared for.  The delivery nurse Wanda told me my contractions were particularly strong, especially for only being 3 cm.  The obstetrician said it could be several more hours of labor, enough to suggest I go back home.  At 1:00AM I decided an epidural was necessary for me to maintain my sanity.  I was able to doze in and out after the epidural, and when the doctor checked me again at 6AM I was a surprising 8 cm.  At 6:20 I started pushing, and since the epidural didn't knock out feeling from a small stripe of my lower body I was able to feel when the contractions were coming.  Since I'd felt like a passive participant through the whole process (trying to relax, let the pain 'wash' over me, etc) I was glad for some action.  I felt tightening, then pain, then I got to push!  For the first hour and a half the pushing resulted in the baby dropping only slightly in the birth canal.  Several times I looked at the OB and she was making "I don't think this is going to work" faces at the support staff.  While this wasn't confidence inspiring, she wasn't telling me I needed a C-Section, or that things weren't progressing.  Her style was to scream at me in attempts to get me to push harder.  She stepped out periodically and the nurse would take over, coaching me smartly and making more progress than with the doctor.  If you're lucky enough to deliver at NYU and get nurse Wanda, you are certainly in great hands.  She deserves a medal for her support, both emotionally and physically. 

An hour later the doctor said she was amazed at how much progress we'd made, and that it wouldn't take much more.  I wasn't prepared for the last 20 minutes to be the hardest of the 30-hour experience.  I'll spare the details for now, but know that 10 days out I'm still having trouble with stitches and swelling.  I believe many people go through similar recoveries, but I truly wasn't prepared for the physical trauma that follows giving birth.