I'm part of the Epidural Club
** This post is not for the faint of heart. It also isn't a medical opinion at all- so talk to someone who knows what they are talking about if you have questions. I'm only 90% sure of all of my details thanks to the magic of labor-forgetting hormones**
Guys, I am petrified of needles. I get super nervous and nauseous every year the day I have to go get my flu shot, and work myself up into a tizzy about it even though it is NOT a big deal. At all. Its pathetic.
Being pregnant involves more needles than I thought it would, but none so legendary as the epidural. In birthing class, I, and the other nervous mamas, gathered around the table to peer at the epidural kit to see how bad it was really going to be.
Realization? Not at all. For some reason I was picturing a massive, Excalibur sized, needle that could skewer me straight through. Why? Because I have an overactive imagination, probably. And a huge. Fear. Of needles.
The little kit included all the pieces, none of which I really know enough about to explain, but the needle was way smaller than expected. And the needle doesn't stay- they use it to make space for the very stretchy and soft tubing that will hang out in your spine until you're done with the whole birthing thing.
As I mentioned in my water breakage post, we arrived at the hospital before the fireworks had really started. I was smiling and confusing people as we checked in, announcing that I was in labor with a smile and making everyone sure they would be sending me home. By the time they finished checking me, I was feeling it a little more, but not nearly as bad as the false labor I had experienced the week before. I got all changed and waddled down the hall with a towel between my legs to the room where I would be staying (oh, yes, it happened. It was kind of like being a bride with a train but way, way weirder). Sometime after arriving in my room, I got the shakes. I had always thought these would come after the epidural, like as a response to the medicine or something, but it turns out it was just part of labor. I was weighed down in warm blankets and tried to keep my legs from spasming to the best of my ability.
We casually asked what the protocol would be to get an epidural as far as how much notice they needed and what it would look like as far as timing. We didn't want to get in a situation where the anesthesiologist was at home 45 minutes away while I had already toughed through as much as I could and was throwing things at people. That wouldn't be ideal. So they said the fellow would come by and dose me up in the next hour or so.
The guy was fantastic. He explained everything and was totally respectful of how nervous I was. We had discussed it in birthing class, and I was as ready as I could be. Here's how it went down.
They had me sit on the edge of the bed and put my feet up in my husband's lap so he could help my legs not shake. I was supposed to curve my back out, the opposite of an arch, to help get things aligned.
The first step was the cleaning, probably, but I was so nervous I don't really remember it. Next was the injection to numb things up. Everyone said it would feel like a bee sting... but maybe you people have different kinds of bees than I do. It hurt more than a bee sting. Nothing scary or scream inducing or anything like that, but it did hurt. And it did sting... just more than a bee would.
The next part was scary to me because I was told to hold perfectly still, not to move at all, no matter what. The no matter what super freaked me out- what would happen if I moved? What if I sneezed? I was having a contraction, which I mentioned, and they said that it was still a good time. I felt a ton of pressure and they decided to hit me with another dose of numbing, so another non-bee sting occurred.
After that, there was pressure again and I kept being perfectly still while they got everything else sorted. After they got everything taped, I was allowed to sit back and we hung out for a minute to see how the meds would take and if I had any weird side effects. Within a few minutes my lower half was blissfully numb, and I didn't have any strange feelings otherwise, so I was deemed good to go.
The anesthesiologist was very complimentary, and he and the nurse both mentioned that sometimes people can be quite rude and not communicate clearly, which makes the process last quite a bit longer. Mine was done in less than 20 minutes, which is apparently very fast. My take away from that is that communication is very important- let your medical staff know (nicely, if you can) about your concerns, how things are feeling, if you have questions, etc, so they can give you the best care they can.
As he left, he said something about how the epidural would start to lose its potency after about 12 hours, but he and the nurse assured us we wouldn't be in labor that long, since I had already dilated from a 4 to a 6 just in the last hour.
Spoiler alert... they were super, super wrong. I would see 3 full shifts of anesthesiologists before the tiny human made her appearance. Definitely take that as a lesson- a grain of salt may be required when guessing how a labor will go. And when hearing how dilated you are, because it turns out sometimes they get it really, extra, entirely wrong.
Guys, I am petrified of needles. I get super nervous and nauseous every year the day I have to go get my flu shot, and work myself up into a tizzy about it even though it is NOT a big deal. At all. Its pathetic.
Being pregnant involves more needles than I thought it would, but none so legendary as the epidural. In birthing class, I, and the other nervous mamas, gathered around the table to peer at the epidural kit to see how bad it was really going to be.
Realization? Not at all. For some reason I was picturing a massive, Excalibur sized, needle that could skewer me straight through. Why? Because I have an overactive imagination, probably. And a huge. Fear. Of needles.
The little kit included all the pieces, none of which I really know enough about to explain, but the needle was way smaller than expected. And the needle doesn't stay- they use it to make space for the very stretchy and soft tubing that will hang out in your spine until you're done with the whole birthing thing.
As I mentioned in my water breakage post, we arrived at the hospital before the fireworks had really started. I was smiling and confusing people as we checked in, announcing that I was in labor with a smile and making everyone sure they would be sending me home. By the time they finished checking me, I was feeling it a little more, but not nearly as bad as the false labor I had experienced the week before. I got all changed and waddled down the hall with a towel between my legs to the room where I would be staying (oh, yes, it happened. It was kind of like being a bride with a train but way, way weirder). Sometime after arriving in my room, I got the shakes. I had always thought these would come after the epidural, like as a response to the medicine or something, but it turns out it was just part of labor. I was weighed down in warm blankets and tried to keep my legs from spasming to the best of my ability.
We casually asked what the protocol would be to get an epidural as far as how much notice they needed and what it would look like as far as timing. We didn't want to get in a situation where the anesthesiologist was at home 45 minutes away while I had already toughed through as much as I could and was throwing things at people. That wouldn't be ideal. So they said the fellow would come by and dose me up in the next hour or so.
The guy was fantastic. He explained everything and was totally respectful of how nervous I was. We had discussed it in birthing class, and I was as ready as I could be. Here's how it went down.They had me sit on the edge of the bed and put my feet up in my husband's lap so he could help my legs not shake. I was supposed to curve my back out, the opposite of an arch, to help get things aligned.
The first step was the cleaning, probably, but I was so nervous I don't really remember it. Next was the injection to numb things up. Everyone said it would feel like a bee sting... but maybe you people have different kinds of bees than I do. It hurt more than a bee sting. Nothing scary or scream inducing or anything like that, but it did hurt. And it did sting... just more than a bee would.
The next part was scary to me because I was told to hold perfectly still, not to move at all, no matter what. The no matter what super freaked me out- what would happen if I moved? What if I sneezed? I was having a contraction, which I mentioned, and they said that it was still a good time. I felt a ton of pressure and they decided to hit me with another dose of numbing, so another non-bee sting occurred.
After that, there was pressure again and I kept being perfectly still while they got everything else sorted. After they got everything taped, I was allowed to sit back and we hung out for a minute to see how the meds would take and if I had any weird side effects. Within a few minutes my lower half was blissfully numb, and I didn't have any strange feelings otherwise, so I was deemed good to go.
The anesthesiologist was very complimentary, and he and the nurse both mentioned that sometimes people can be quite rude and not communicate clearly, which makes the process last quite a bit longer. Mine was done in less than 20 minutes, which is apparently very fast. My take away from that is that communication is very important- let your medical staff know (nicely, if you can) about your concerns, how things are feeling, if you have questions, etc, so they can give you the best care they can.
As he left, he said something about how the epidural would start to lose its potency after about 12 hours, but he and the nurse assured us we wouldn't be in labor that long, since I had already dilated from a 4 to a 6 just in the last hour.
Spoiler alert... they were super, super wrong. I would see 3 full shifts of anesthesiologists before the tiny human made her appearance. Definitely take that as a lesson- a grain of salt may be required when guessing how a labor will go. And when hearing how dilated you are, because it turns out sometimes they get it really, extra, entirely wrong.
