I came home from the hospital March 31st and was able to read a few messages boards that evening. As I've been thinking of writing Cody's birth story and how to start it, one line I read from Kellie F. stood out.

Poor Tracie - It's tough getting labor started when it's not time. Sending prayers up for her...

Thank you, Kellie.

It WAS hard to get labor going and it surely WASN'T time. Cody didn't want to come out yet. Who could blame him? He was very happy in his pool, swimming around, moving freely even though he was a big boy at a young gestational age.

** If you already know the history of my doc appointment that led to my being induced, you can skip over this part.

On Wednesday, March 28th, I had an ultrasound to check the baby's size and fluid level. From there I went to an OB appointment with a doctor that wasn't my usual doctor. Mine was on vacation in Mexico. When she measured the fundle height, it had grown to 47 cm from 39 cm the week before. ??? So she called for the ultrasound results and learned that my fluid level more than doubled from the prior week. She asked how my BG levels have been. I said they'd been on the high side but not too bad. (Higher than my goals but not dangerously high.) I had planned on making an appt with my endocrinologist the following week to see if I needed an insulin dosage adjustment.

This doctor was very concerned. She did an internal and said I was 4-5 cm dilated, but the baby was very high. I thought he felt low but later I found out it was a bulging bag of water that was giving me the pressure. She insisted I have a non-stress test right then. Baby was fine. She was also concerned about a bacterial infection I had and getting that treated. There was no risk to the baby, instead the risks were to me. If my water broke or I delivered before the infection was cleared up, it could spread up to my uterus. So she sent me home with antibiotics and cream and told me to come back on Friday for an amnio and another non stress test.

Thursday afternoon the doctor called me and told me to come in to be induced right then. I started crying. Even though I had bitched and complained about all the aches and pains I've been having and saying I was ready, I really didn't want to be induced. I really wanted this baby to come on his own. She was very sympathetic and explained that she'd been on the phone all day with colleagues and professionals and even called a major teaching hospital to discuss my "case" with the perinatologist there. All unanimously agreed that I should be induced right away.

I'm not sure I understand ALL the risks involved and why they insisted on inducing me. Their main concern was the position of the baby, the fact that I was almost 5 cm dilated and the risk of the cord prolapsing. They said my water could break at any time and with the baby being that high, they didn't want me far from the hospital if my water broke. They talked about the risk of stillbirth starting at 36 weeks and I was now 37 weeks. They talked about possible lung development problems, due to being early and my being diabetic, etc. There just seemed to be risks no matter what we did, and they decided that inducing now was the best route. They agreed to let me work on doing my own natural induction techniques the first night but said pitocin would be started Friday morning.

By the time we (my husband, my mom, and I) got to the hospital (4:50 pm March 29th), I was tired and starving. I hadn't eaten since lunch at noon. They said I could have ice chips. I explained I was diabetic and had an insulin dosage at lunch time and I was starting to feel shaky. They said no to any food. UGH! I got cranky (I was about to bottom out) and told them there was no way I could be induced without something. They said they could start a glucose drip. GRRRR Well, they were packed. Every room was full. We sat there for hours wondering what to do. Someone came in and started my IV. He went to double check my ID bracelet after he got it in and discovered I didn't have one. They hadn't officially admitted me. He was fearing for his job at that point. I apologized and told him if I had known I would've said something. He said it was ok, he just wasn't supposed to do anything to me without me being ID'd.

We sat around and waited some more. Jack and my mom were hungry so I told them to get some food and bring it back. They offered to eat in the cafeteria but I insisted they come right back, I didn't want to be alone for long. They did and Jack brought all kinds of snacks. I made him give me a couple of those candied orange slices. I was really shaky at that point - I still didn't have any food or the glucose drip. The doctor finally came in and asked if I wanted to walk around and try to stimulate labor. No way. I was exhausted, I knew if I even stood I'd probably pass out I was so shaky... there was no way I could expel any kind of energy at that point. She said they'd have to start pitocin then. I said fine, but bring me the darn glucose drip or something to eat or I'd surely die. That's honestly how I felt.

Survivor came on so we watched that for a half hour. At 8:30 they came in with the pitocin and a turkey sandwich! YAY! I scarfed it down. And still felt shaky... but it was better than nothing! At that point I think I had seen 4-5 different nurses. They had to keep changing my nurse based on the needs of other patients. They were all very nice and very apologetic though. It was a wild night there for them.

I was already contracting on my own about every 15-20 minutes so they thought it would be a breeze to get my labor started, especially with how far I'd dilated already. The internal they did before they started pitocin was 5 maybe 6! They started me on the lowest dose, nothing. They upped it, I got a few contractions, then nothing. The contractions were very mild. No pain at all. They made me stay in bed the entire time to keep the baby on the monitor. They insisted he be monitored at all times - it was the only way they'd know if he cord prolapsed.

That bed became the bane of my existence. It was SOOOOOOO uncomfortable. It had no firmness to it at all, I just sank to the bed frame, which was metal. I kept telling them that and they'd offer to give me pillows, raise/lower the back, etc. Nothing worked. Jack suggested I lay on my side but I knew if I did, I'd just end up upright again because my hips were so achy, I knew I couldn't lay on my side long. And I couldn't move around much to any other position because every time I did, they'd lose the baby's heartbeat on the monitor. I started joking about my birth plan and how completely opposite everything was. I started calling it the Backwards Birth, or the Anti-Bradley. Originally, I had planned to post my birth plan around the room on cute paper to let everyone know of my preferences... later on, I joked that I should still post it but put a big circle with a slash through it. Or we could post it and put lines through each part that wasn't going to happen (which was pretty much all of it). Even though I was joking, I was really upset. None of it felt right.

At midnight I was contracting every 3-5 minutes but they weren't substantial. They decided to turn off the pit and let me rest. I was so thankful to be off that bed! I immediately hopped into the jacuzzi tub. And of course, the contractions completely went away. They let me eat another turkey sandwich then I was supposed to sleep. They offered drugs over and over to help me sleep but I laughed and triumphantly refused. FINALLY! Something *I* was in control of. It's the little things I guess, and, as silly as it sounds, it felt like a small victory.

I slept fitfully. I was anxious, nervous, over-tired, scared and excited all at the same time. Jack snored loudly on the daybed and made the nurses giggle when they'd come in. At 7 AM they started the pitocin again. No breakfast for me though. I was back to the "no eating" rule. But they did give me some apple juice and some cranberry juice. They also started a glucose drip and an IV antibiotic. They tested me for Group B Strep the night before but didn't have the results back so they were treating me anyway. I had the other infection already, and since diabetics are at higher risk of infections as it is, I didn't object.

The juice and the lack of my normal night time insulin dosage made my BG go up... so they started an insulin drip too. By this time, my IV "tree" was more like a "forest" with all the bags! So that's what we started calling it. We were trying to keep things light-hearted and humorous.

I called several friends that morning, while strapped by monitors to that horrible bed. It made the time pass quicker. My mom went to work and Jack took some naps. I called my dear online buddy, Ellen and she giggled at hearing him snore in the background. She said I sounded relaxed. I probably did and I really was trying to stay relaxed, but it was very hard. Still, everything felt wrong and I was still very unsure about everything that was going on.

With every contraction I'd close my eyes, focus on relaxing my hands and jaw (the two spots I clench when in pain) and I'd visualize a rosebud opening to full bloom. I had heard somewhere that this kind of visualization really helped. It did for me, emotionally, but physically, nothing was happening. The contractions weren't very strong, they didn't really hurt and I could tell they were totally pitocin induced. At one point when I got up to go to the bathroom, I refused to get back into that awful bed. I sat in a chair for a little bit instead. It was so much better than the bed! I begged to labor there. But they couldn't get the heartbeat when I sat there. I tried to slouch and sit back, I tried shifting, everything I could do to still be able to sit in that wonderful chair but nothing worked. So back to the bed it was.

At noon my mom came back. I was getting discouraged. And my IV was hurting. It had been hurting all along and I had complained a few times but no one seemed to be too concerned. Shortly after noon, it REALLY started hurting. I looked down and my arm was all puffy. (The IV was on the inside of my right arm.) I showed the nurse and she said it had infiltrated. So out it came. It was a blessing in disguise though because it meant the pit had to be turned off and I could get up and move around! They said I had an hour to take a bath, walk around, do whatever it was I wanted to get things moving. Yay!

So I walked all over the hospital with Jack and my mom. I snuck a few bites of their snacks here and there to keep my energy up. I was still pretty tired and weak from so little food in the last 24 hours. But it felt so good to get off that darn bed! I had a few contractions too, so I was getting excited. I chose to walk up and down the stairs instead of taking the elevator too and that gave me a few more contractions.

I came back to my room and they decided to put a small leak in my bag of water to help bring the baby down and try to control that a bit. Ok, now we really had to laugh at this. My biggest concern and the one thing I underlined, bolded and put emphasis on in my birth plan was NOT TO BREAK MY WATER. Yet, here we were, doing just that. One more thing to cross off.

I got back in bed, and he poked a small hole in the bag. I instantly started gushing. They had me and the nurse push on the baby to move him down with the water. I had to sit like that and be monitored for a bit while water flowed and flowed, and flowed and flowed. It was a never-ending stream. They started laughing and joking about how much water there was. I still didn't have an IV in so they let me take a jacuzzi bath to help stimulate contractions since that's what helped with my last labor after they broke my water.

But nothing happened. Not even one contraction. As I got out of the tub, water gushed and gushed. I couldn't believe how much was coming out. I stood there for a long time while water continued to pour out. When I walked back into the room, my mom sort of gasped and said I was half the size I was before. I looked down and I was. And when I thought about it, it was easier to get out of the tub. I didn't realize how huge I had become with all that water. I had lots of pain and heartburn the prior week but I figured it was due to being almost 9 months pregnant.

I had to get back in bed and they got an IV in my left hand. They did a check and said I was STILL only 4-5 cm. I was confused. I asked how the doc the night before could say I was almost 6 and now I was less??? They said the water was probably putting pressure on my cervix making it dilate more than it really was.. or something like that. I cried.

So there I sat, in pain from the bed, and getting more and more tired and frustrated by the moment. Water continued to gush and the contractions started to get more intense. The more water that left me, the more pain I felt from the contractions. At 4:00 or so, I became distraught. I was in a lot of pain, had very little sleep, no food, and no patience left. I demanded to get off the bed, it was killing me. They let me try the chair again but no heartbeat. UGH! I figured I'd stall them and tell them I had to go to the bathroom. So I kept getting up and sitting on the toilet. I figured the squatting on the toilet would help too. At one point, I refused to get off the toilet. I was crying almost inconsolably at that moment and just wanted to go home.

In the bathroom there was this towel rack that had several bars for multiple towels. From my position on the toilet, the towel rack was sort of above me. I looked up at it and it looked like jail bars to me. I kinda laughed inside. But with the next contraction, as I closed my eyes and visualized my rose, there were bars in front of it. I shook my head and said NO! But I couldn't stop it. It was exactly how I felt. Trapped. Confined. I lost it.

I started yelling at the nurse to turn off the pitocin. I was done and I could not do it anymore. I complained at Jack and my mom that this was all bullshit and I wanted to go home. The nurse said she couldn't turn off the pitocin and I laid into her. I didn't swear at her or anything but she became my enemy and I let her know it. I begged to her, I cried to her, I pleaded, etc. for her to turn it off. Then I said I was probably in transition and that's why it got so hard. So I demanded they do an internal and turn off the pitocin so I could continue this on my own in my own way.

She checked me and I was 5 still. She said I was stretchy though and she could stretch me to 6. I couldn't believe I had not progressed at all. I was downright mad. I again begged for her to turn off the pit. I kept thinking I was doing this on my own anyway and the pit was making it worse. I apologized to my mom and Jack and said I was just too tired, too hungry, too weak, too everything to do anymore and I had to have a chance to do this on my own. The look in their eyes broke my heart. They were hurting for me and I knew it and it just made it that much more unbearable. Nothing about this was right or felt good. (They were both wonderful by the way... I can't even being to express my gratitude to the both of them. They put up with a lot too...)

The nurse offered me pain killers several times and I said no, but I finally asked for an epidural. I figured if nothing else, I could sleep and get some rest. And at that point I really didn't care anymore -- it hit me that nothing about this birth was going to go the way I wanted. While waiting for the anesthesiologist, I again pleaded with her to turn off the pitocin. Part of me figured if she turned it off and I continued contracting, that maybe by the time the anesthesiologist got there, I could refuse the epi and be able to continue on my own. It was my last chance. I refused to get back into bed till the anesethiologist got there. I stood there rocking back and forth till he came. She finally agreed to turn it down to half of what it was on.

And I got a break. But I wasn't happy about it. A break isn't what I wanted. I wanted to be in LABOR, on my OWN. As soon as the pit was reduced, the contractions slowed way down. So I wasn't in transition. I gave up. I fully surrendered. The epi guy got there and did the epidural. I had a couple contractions through it and had to squeeze Jack's hand to hold still. I ended up squeezing him so hard and pushing his hand so hard into my leg that I bruised myself.

When it was done and took effect, the nurse turned the pit back up. I instantly started contracting again but with no pain. I felt itchy and weird all over. My blood pressure dropped which made the baby's heart rate drop. I panicked and said "what have I done??" The baby's heartbeat was fine the whole time till I got the epi. But my blood pressure returned to normal within minutes and so did his heartbeat. They wanted me laying back but I refused to be flat on my back, knowing it would slow things down even more. So she propped me up and to the side a little. Even with the epidural, the stupid bed was so uncomfortable!

About an hour to an hour and a half after I got the epidural, I felt lots of pressure. I'm not sure if she turned up the pit or what... but I had noticed the contractions were also a lot closer together. The doc had just stopped by to let me know he was going upstairs to assist in a procedure but would be back in 10 minutes. I mentioned again I felt pressure so the nurse checked me real quick. I was complete. GO figure! The nurse told him not to go anywhere. She reminded the doctor that earlier when he asked me how long it took to push out Casey, I said "two pushes". (It only took two pushes with Melissa too.) So he put on all his gear and told me to push. I started to push and the doctor started to count. Yeah right, like he needed to! I got the head out with one push. The cord was wrapped around the baby's neck. He unwrapped it and told me to push again. This time he didn't bother counting. I gave one more push and out he came. Two pushes. He laughed and said "Two pushes alright!" :o) (Later Jack overheard him laughing as he was telling the nurses about "two pushes".)

Everyone laughed and was shocked at how much water came out behind Cody. They thought for sure there couldn't possibly be any more water in me, but there was. They joked that Cody "surfed" out. :o) I was so happy and so relieved! Jack wanted to help deliver the baby but with all the interventions and risks, he wasn't allowed. The doctor only had Cody for a second or two though to make sure he was ok, before he handed him to Jack. Jack was supposed to just hand him to me but he took one look at him then clutched him to his chest for a moment. It was a precious site. He then handed Cody to me and I cried with relief. We all did. It was finally over and I was holding a beautiful healthy baby boy in my arms.

Cody Collin Thompson was born at 6:04 PM on Friday, March 30th, 2001. He was 8 lbs 6 ounces and 19 1/4 inches long. He was born "singing". It's a cute little noise he makes when he takes in air. They said he does it because he was early and I was diabetic. His lungs are fine and he's getting enough oxygen, he just hadn't quite learned how to breathe correctly. I tore a little and received a few stitches. They kept the pitocin going for about an hour or two after Cody was born.

Here's my Birth Plan. I still laugh at it...

In hindsight, I think the epidural helped me. I think I might've been holding myself back. It's when I completely surrendered that anything happened. Even though I joked about it being the opposite of what I wanted, and tried to keep my chin up, I really wasn't happy about any of what was happening. And I am guessing that subconsciously, I was holding back and fighting it. I've wondered if maybe I truly WAS in transition before that epidural, but everyone I've expressed that to who was there said I was clearly not with the way the contractions backed down when she turned the pit down. I'll never know and it will probably always nag at me.

But in the end, I got the ultimate prize and achieved the most important goal of them all. I have a wonderfully sweet and beautiful healthy baby who I adore and always will...

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