So, four centimeters before labor even really began and my mind thinking it might be easier than I thought, especially since I was getting an epidural (strongly recommended, sometimes required for having twins in case an emergency c-section is needed...or the doc has to literally reach up and grab Twin B lest she decide to swim away). Next came the waiting and the ever increasing intensity and frequency of contractions. The TV was on but I vaguely remember only seeing TV Guide channel's rising list more than an actual show...our attempt to see what was on and change the channel according to what we felt like was obviously failing. We both thrived on hearing the heartbeats of the babes on the monitors and so very often, the dull thuds of their kicks and brushes against the monitors. It was sometime during those moments that the question of how I would get to the bathroom hit me. Of course I asked, thinking I could just unstrap myself and wheel the IV stand over yonder to the potty but upon asking, I found out I was restrained to a bed pan...lovely. Good thing I didn't eat breakfast and drink a large glass of orange juice followed by a few hundred gulps of water earlier that morning...
So, contractions. At first, it was just the normal tightening of my abdomen/uterus I was very used to but as my pitocin drip was steadily increased, on came those I had never experienced before. I was bound and determined to go as long as they would let me before getting the epidural but was also very concerned with not missing the window of opportunity - apparently once your cervix is past a certain point, you can no longer get an epidural - and I knew that my sweet nurse knew enough to not let me pass it up yet I remember asking her to death if she thought I was still okay and safe within that time frame. After an hour or so of contractions that pushed Cecilia so far up into my ribs and lungs that I thought for sure she had broken and punctured both, I finally broke down and asked for the anesthesiologist. Twenty minutes later I had a tube in my spine and was slowly losing the feeling in my lower half...one of the weirdest feelings I've ever felt. I wasn't thrilled with the fact that my legs began to feel like they each weighed a thousand pounds but I was so relieved that I could no longer feel my rear end, already going numb on it's own from sitting on the rock hard hospital bed.
After about a half hour of epidural juice running it's course, after I couldn't even attempt to lift a leg, after the contractions had been almost reduced to a number on an electronic box to my right, I could still feel a sharp pain above my left leg that throbbed every time I contracted, and it didn't go away and didn't go away. Even after being helped to lay on my left side so that the juice would travel thataway, it still hurt. Back came the anesthesiologist who decided to reposition the tube in my back AND up the dosage a teensy bit. Ten minutes later, the pain was gone and my legs felt like they had each put on a thousand more pounds. The time was close to 11 am. Again we waited and waited, TV Guide constantly scrolling through its scheduling and the twins still kicking like crazy.
Around 12:30 pm, my nurse came in to check my dilation shortly after Anthony had left to go secure some lunch in the cafeteria. While performing the shameless act, her eyes grew wide and she surprisingly exclaimed "Wow, nine centimeters! You'll probably start pushing in twenty minutes or so!" My already crazy mind zoomed straight ahead to thinking about how the 'labor' and my life as it used to be were almost over and the 'delivery' and our little sprouts were quickly approaching...and "Where the heck is Anthony...Why is it taking him so long to grab food...What if he misses it!"
...Hungry twins...gotta go! Until then, I leave you with a glimpse of our two little peas in a pod...
