You Asked For It: Part I

A couple of posts ago, I got a number of requests to blog Levi's birth story. So, here it goes. By the end of this y'all might regret having asked. ;)
Levi was due November 17, 2007. It was pretty clear, though, that he had no intention of greeting the world on schedule. November 14 rolled around, and with it came what was supposed to be a normal checkup. I went to the doctor's office leaving behind a messy house and a pile of laundry. Seriously people, I was convinced that Levi intended to stay put for at least another couple of weeks. So, off I went to the doctor.
As she's checking me out this look of concern crosses her face. My doctor has no sensor on her facial expressions...though she tries, God bless her. She immediately ships me off to have a sonogram. I could feel him kicking in there, so I knew he was alive. But, I must say her expression did leave me uneasy.
Turns out the poor little fella' was running out of amniotic fluid at an alarming rate. To this day I'm convinced that he ate it all. It would be just like him.
Anyway, the doc ordered me into the hospital that evening. She was entirely unconcerned about my messy house and pile of laundry. This so was not in my plans. I was supposed to go into labor as God intended. I had no intention of going to the hospital until I was dang skippy near ready to pop the kid out. And my house was not supposed to be messy while all of this was going on.
As ordered, I showed up at the hospital bags packed--house still messy--ready to try to coax this kid out into the world. I was terrified. I had no idea what to expect. The nurses ushered me into a room, and administered some terrifically uncomfortable drugs in the attempt to "soften my cervix". It took two different nurses to accomplish this task, neither of whom was remotely concerned about my obvious discomfort. I was told that I would probably feel some contractions through the night, and they could give me drugs if I needed them. When I told them I didn't want any drugs, they nearly rolled there eyes.
Because they wouldn't be administering Pitocin until morning, my mom went home to get some rest. As the appointed labor coach, she wanted to be well rested for the upcoming event. My sister (who had never seen anything but a horse give birth) stayed with me through the night. At first, I couldn't even feel the contractions that registered on the monitor. After a couple rounds of cards things started getting a tinge painful, but still nothing that gritting of teeth and clenching of fists couldn't get a girl through. And, then things started getting nasty. The pain was HORRIBLE. The worst part--it was relentless. I had contraction on top of contraction on top of contraction. Those minutes in between contractions that they tell you about in childbirth class, they didn't exist.
My sister began calling the nurse in regularly, asking what was wrong with me, if I was okay. The nurse would smile, take a gander at the monitor, and calmly say, "The baby must be pressing on a nerve. Would you like something for the pain?" When I said, "No, thanks." in between cries of pain, she walked out. No pointers, no words of comfort, nothin'. I began thinking that if this wasn't active labor and Pitocin was only going to increase the pain, then the pain was surely going to kill me. I already felt like someone was repeatedly and relentlessly stabbing me. All to get me ready for Pitocin to be administered so that I could go into labor. Yes, I actually believed that despite the pain, I was not really in labor yet. The stuff they gave me wasn't intended to send me into labor. The nurse was convinced it was just the baby pressing on a nerve. I had never even seen a horse give birth much less a human, so I certainly wasn't going to argue with her.
To be continued....