Introducing Dagmar Lee Fach-Pedersen

September 10, 2008

9:45am CET

Herlev, Denmark

3430 grams / 7 lb 8 oz

53 cm / 21 in

See more pics!

Remember the "I was in labor for three days" horror stories I mentioned? Now I have one too.

After not sleeping at all the night of the 7th, the contractions were still coming and getting stronger on the 8th. We called the hospital again, and they decided to check me out. Baby's fine but I'm only 2cm dilated. I got some pain killers and a sleep aid so I could at least get some sleep in the meantime. We went back home, I took the pills, and I was able to get 15 minute snippets of sleep in between waking up screaming in pain. Sadly, this was an improvement.

Back to the hospital on the morning of the 9th, the contractions still not having let up at all, and… 2cm dilated. I managed not to break down in tears. The midwife attempted to make me feel better by saying I was now completed effaced, whereas I wasn't yesterday. I guess that's something. They offered me morphine and another sleep aid, and a room in the hospital while I got some sleep. I got wheeled around in a hospital bed for the first time as they transferred me from labor and delivery to some place Thomas and I could sleep. I'm so grateful they never once made us separate and Thomas was always always with me!!!

I slept for two hours which was like heaven, then it was back to painful and totally unproductive contractions. After a couple more hours I was at 3cm, and Inger, the midwife, suggested we try to help nature out a bit. Heck yeah, I thought.

So as soon as there was space in labor and delivery, down we went. More rolling hospital bed excitement. Inger explained that she'd be giving me an artificial version of a hormone my uterus makes to help my contractions do some real work. I didn't ask, but I assume it was pitocin. She was periodically checking me and I was actually dilating now. During one check, my waters broke and they were tinged green with meconium. Inger said my contractions would be stronger now so, we discussed my options for pain. The "bee stings" option sounded pretty stupid to me. They can stick a few needles in me every hour and it's supposed to take my mind off the contractions. Um, no thanks. Of course, an epidural was an option, but I decided to try the laughing gas first. The laughing gas was good. My HypnoBabies, if nothing else, taught me how to breathe deeply and that was an immense help, both before and after getting the gas. Thomas commented that I smiled for the first time in a long time after a few deep breaths with that wonderful mask.

The pitocin seemed to be working. I got to 8cm relatively quickly, although it still felt like an eternity. Then everything just stopped. Well, not everything. I still had lots of contractions and lots of pain, but no improvement. I wasn't getting much break between contractions anymore and we had to turn the gas up, but I just wasn't dilating anymore. This is about when I started feeling the urge to push, even though I clearly wasn't ready to.

At first, I was pretty successful at not pushing, but it became increasingly difficult. Pushing when I know full well it's a bad idea for both me and my baby, but having no control over it, is probably the most painful, frustrating, exhausting thing I've ever done… physical, emotional and intellectual hell. By now, Inger's shift had been over for a while but there was no one available to take over so she had stayed with me. Someone else finally arrived, and she probably told me her name but I wasn't really paying attention. We had seen her once before on one of the trips to the hospital where we got sent home again, and she was very nice. There was another woman with her who I assumed was in training since she mostly just watched, and when she did do stuff, she was less confident about it, but she was very nice. The new midwife examined me while the trainee looked on. I desperately wanted her to announce I was fully dilated and could push. No luck. 8cm. She decided to notify a doctor while trainee looked after me, telling me not to push.

It seemed about ten years later when the doctor arrived, and she too was being shadowed by an Asian woman. Maybe there is some kind of exchange program, but I really didn't care enough to ask. The doctor thought maybe she could push the remaining cervix out of the way and let me push, but that just hurt a hell of a lot and didn't work. She decided to do a scan and determine the baby's position, which was sunny side up and with a poorly tilted head. Despite all efforts, Dagmar would just not tilt her head properly to get out. We were pretty much out of options, and I was most definitely out of energy.

The doctor said we'd need to do a cesarean and asked me if that was ok. I said, "I don't care. I just want it to end." And so I was wheeled away once more to an operating room nearby. Apparently this was less than 15 minutes before Dagmar was born, but it still felt like forever. Everything had to be done between contractions, which were still coming fast and strong. I didn't really want to know what was happening, just that things were moving forward. I closed my eyes and felt various random things happen to me one at a time with contractions in between and people telling me repeatedly not to push. Most of what was going on was talked about in Danish, so I only understood what I needed to, i.e. instructions to me specifically. I appreciated that.

I didn't know it at the time, but my mother had run from the room in hysterics at the mention of cesarean and someone was calming her down in the waiting room.

Thomas was next to me, having instantly appeared with a hair net and weird blue zippered shirt. He held my hand and told me how wonderful I was doing, which generally kept me from going insane. He told me later he was very nearly crying as well, but I had no clue at the time. I just remember him being amazing. I remember really cold stuff being poured over my back a couple times, and being needled in the hand and the back, but nothing nearly as uncomfortable as labor. The epidural finally kicked in and the hell of contractions ended for the first time in days. I might have cried with happiness, except I was soooooo cold. I couldn't stop shivering. But this was still way better.

I laid there shivering, and feeling weird pulling sensations on my lower half, and then suddenly "it's a big, beautiful baby girl!" I felt like my smile would hit the walls of the room. Thomas went with her as they took her away to be checked out by a pediatrician. I only got a quick glimpse of her before she was gone, but I really didn't care. It was over. Thomas is with her. Everything is fine. I laid there shivering some more while they did whatever they do to patch me back up again.

Thomas came back in with her a few minutes later, and held her next to me, though I couldn't move. That was a bit frustrating, but I was still mostly elated. It wasn't too long before they transferred me to another bed, laid Dagmar on my chest, and wheeled me to recovery while I just stared at my daughter grinning.

Once in recovery, Thomas helped me attempt to nurse her since I only had one mobile arm (the other tethered to an IV) and she took right to breast with no issue. It was so easy I actually thought it must not really be working, but everyone assured me it was. After several hours, I got feeling back in my legs and one final bed ride to the place where people recover from cesareans. We were there a couple days and now we're home!