Willow's Birth Saga--Part Four

I had a couple of Angel nurses. I really liked them, and they genuinely seemed concerned about me and wanted to do what was best, but they would come in with orders that apparently came from someone else that they had no authority to question, and I was never privileged to interact with. Everything was so entrenched in the hospital’s administrative mentality that personality and preference were subjugated to the will of the institution.
As I was lying docilely on my side, managing the contractions by focusing on relaxing through them and embracing the discomfort as something that was good and productive, they were steadily getting stronger. However, there was never a point where I said, “Oh, this is different, this is labor.” They felt the same as the contractions I had had before, just progressively stronger, and progressively concentrating more and more in the small of my back. At one point, my lovely nurse applied counter pressure to the small of my back during a contraction and it beautifully felt as if all pain was removed. She continued doing this through each contraction and showed Kevin how to do it for me while she was out of the room. I didn’t realize how strong the contractions had become until once when she was out of the room and Kevin didn’t know to start pushing on my back as the contraction started and it was so painful I couldn’t even articulate what I needed him to do to make it go away.
By the time I had been there for several hours I had only dilated another cm or so and they still didn’t have a clear 10 minute tracing of the baby’s heart rate. They decided to put in and internal monitor, which would take a continuous tracing, even if I got up. I was so ready for anything that would let me get up and move around that I readily agreed. They also put an internal pressure sensor up inside to monitor contractions. As soon as they plugged in the contraction monitor they went “Whoa! You are having contractions!” as if they didn’t believe me prior to that. Additionally, they put in an irrigating catheter that would slowly inject fluid into my uterus because, they said, my fluid was low, and it might help to “float” the baby out.
With the internal monitor, they finally got a 10 minute tracing of the heart rate and realized that the baby’s heart rate was dipping (Kevin thinks it was spiking. What ever it was, it was an irregularity) with each contraction. My OB said that this was not a problem yet but that it would be a problem if it continued for many hours. Because I wasn’t actively dilating, averages dictated that it would take longer than the hours they would want to allow the heart rate dipping to continue before I got to the point of birthing the baby. My husband and my OB, who are both holders of the priesthood, administered a blessing to me. I continued to wait, trying to be calm and confident in the hand of the Lord, for half an hour or more, focusing on my body and visualizing opening and welcoming this baby into the world. I was examined again and was told there had been no progress. They didn’t think petocin would help because I was already having contractions as hard as was advisable. My Angel Nurse suggested I shift to lying on one knee and almost on my stomach, which is a position she said frequently facilitates dilation. I started shifting and rolling over, but had no sooner completed the revolution that would have brought me into the suggested position, if I had had a moment to relax into it, than there was a flurry of concern and I was told to go back immediately, it was no good for the baby. I don’t know how they could tell that that position was no good for the baby when I never actually got into that position. I continued to lie there, and now, in my near despair, even the counterpressure that Kevin so faithfully applied couldn’t shield me from the pain of contractions that weren’t working!