Pandemic

One of the most frequently asked questions among women in my pregnancy forums was: Did you have to wear a mask?!

Unfortunately, yes. And it was definitely a strange experience.

Spoiler alert: I did end up feeling contractions, and it turns out breathing is pretty key to get through them.

I only had to wear a mask, however, when hospital staff came into the room, and towards the end it seemed like they didn’t disturb me as much. So the most challenging part as it relates to wearing the mask was during the epidural and while pushing. I am guilty of pulling it down under my nose during those particular times though. I desperately needed to breath!

Fast forward to after the baby was born when we were in the recovery room, we had a couple of nurses tell us they were thrown off by our masks. They had just been in on Monday, and it was not required for patients at that time. And we went in on Tuesday. So close!

Back to Tuesday evening: June 9. Winona had just left, and I was feeling a little something, kind of like cramps. “Are these contractions?” I asked. With Jackson, I never ended up feeling any so I felt very much like a first-time mom again.

I learned the answer as they intensified: Yes!

It didn’t feel like I imagined they would. I thought it would be sort of like the stomach tightening from the top of your belly and pushing down. It surprised me that it was always very, very low and more like a cramp coming and going in waves.

The rest of the night I sat like a weirdo upright in a chair, completely still and silent, except for closing my eyes, breathing deeply and squeezing my hands on the edges of the armrests every two minutes for each contraction. Hours must have passed, but I didn’t want to move or even flinch. I was in the zone, and this was oddly comfortable for me.

I remember the nurses had mentioned all these different positions you could try during labor, but I couldn’t even fathom it. At one point I finally got up to use the bathroom, and even that felt like it made it so much worse. All I wanted to do was sit in that chair and not move!

“On a scale from 1 to 10, how would you rate your pain?” I had a new nurse now, but can’t remember her name.

“Ummm… I dunno….what is pain, really?”

Such a difficult patient.

At some point — the tail end of this gets murky — I did go from a zero straight to a 7 or 8. I remembered they had advised me to ask for the epidural not at your breaking point but when you think you can only handle an hour more of the contractions (since it likely would take an hour to get the anesthesiologist in your room and all set up).

Feeling SO tired, I asked for the epidural then. In hindsight, I almost wish I never did. They waited to do a cervix check until after the epidural, and it turns out I was already 9 cm dilated. It was basically time to push. At my last check, I was at 4 cm, so had I known I was so close to the finish line, I feel like I could have just powered through.

Plus getting the epidural itself was not too fun. The anesthesiologist kept asking me if it was in the right spot — like, isn’t that your job to figure out?!?! As he re-did it a few times, they had me hunched over on the edge of the bed, and kept telling me over and over to arch my back like a cat. “Arch like a cat! Arch like a cat!” Add in the contractions and the mask, and I felt like screaming, “WHAT IS TAKING SO LONG?!!”

The epidural did allow me to relax and take a breather, but soon I was freezing and shaking uncontrollably. (The nurse said this was common due to hormones.) With the contractions, you got instant relief as each one passed. But this was just a constant torture.

“I can’t do this any more!” I kept saying to Justin. Oddly enough, not something I ever said during the contractions.

The nurse had put the peanut ball in between my legs — which I loved for Jackson — but this time I just felt so uncomfortable. I wanted SO badly to just rip everything off of me and get up out of the bed and be done.

Thankfully, it was time to push.