Limits

Labor started on a Friday afternoon. It was the first day of the Masters tournament, April 1994. I left work early with labor pains occurring every ten minutes or so. I was apprehensive but also relieved that Tanner would be born soon. I was two and a half weeks overdue and ready. By late Friday night the pains were coming every five to seven minutes and we went to the hospital. After a quick examination by a nurse we were sent home. I was only two cm dilated.

Friday night was a long night. I spent a lot of time in the shower alternating the water temperature between warm and hot. I had found that the goose-bumps that accompanied the switch to the hotter temperature was a natural pain reliever. I tried to sleep but was woken up every few minutes with contractions.

Saturday was more of the same. With the Masters Tournament on the TV, I spent the day on my hands and knees resting my head on a stack of pillows, breathing through each contraction. My water had still not broken and we were told not to come back to the hospital until it did. Saturday night was spent in the shower again. I was growing exhausted having not slept for close to forty hours.

Sunday brought the agony of back labor. We phoned a chiropractor who made a house call. He showed Gordy how to apply pressure to the base of my spine which helped with the pain. By Sunday evening with no end of labor in sight we went to the hospital again. I was still only two cm dilated. My OB doctor said that it was still false labor and to go back home. My doctor didn’t think highly of ultrasounds and had not done one during my pregnancy. The hospital did not do an ultrasound during labor so we did not know that Tanner was turned posterior. This was the reason for the non-productive contractions. During each contraction Tanner’s head pressed against my lower spine rather than downward on my cervix. I remember nothing about Sunday night except for desperation for someone to help me.

At five am Monday morning, with my water still not broken and contractions continuing to come every five minutes we went back to the hospital. I had only dilated to three cm. Finally my doctor broke my water with a metal hook and started an IV with pitocin, which would strengthen my contractions. Monday was hell. I was utterly exhausted from not sleeping for more than a few minutes at a time in three days. The back labor continued because Tanner was still posterior. I begged for epidural anesthetic but my doctor would not allow it until I was at least five cm dilated. That day was the only time in my life that I have wanted to die. When I finally got an epidural I dilated to ten cm within an hour.

It was time to push. Adrenaline served me well and I was able to push quite well. Tanner’s head emerged and the doctor turned him. It was at that point that my strength gave out and I gave up. Tanner’s heart rate was dangerously low. The doctor inserted forceps and a silicon suction cap to aid in pulling Tanner out. I remember hearing “if you do not push the baby will die”. Those words were powerful and I pushed. Tanner was born silent and blue. He was revived and I was emotionally vacant.

The misery and desperation of the final minutes prior to Tanner’s birth is difficult to describe but I recall the intensity of the need for someone else to endure for me. There were times when my cancer diagnosis was fresh and nighttime would bring on terror of what laid ahead. As with the desperation of labor, I needed someone else to endure for me. I resigned myself to the fear and wailed into John’s shoulder until I was again, like after Tanner’s birth, emotionally vacant. I think there is a limit to how much fear we can endure before abandoning our cognizance.