Because of my age and the high blood pressure I developed toward the end of pregnancy, my doctor didn’t want to risk preeclampsia. We scheduled an induction at 39 weeks. I felt a mix of nerves, excitement, and surprising calmness that day. The house was clean, meals were prepped, bags were packed—I thought I was ready. I had purchased everything social media moms swore I would need for postpartum recovery. We were set.
George came home from work, showered, and we packed the car. First stop? The diner. I was too nervous to eat, so I just sipped ginger ale and said a prayer.
Being Patient in the triage
We arrived at White Plains Hospital for our 6 p.m. appointment, checked in, and were told to take a seat—they were behind because of so many births. Two hours later, a nurse finally brought us back. They set us up in triage, apologizing that a private room wasn’t available yet. One of the OBs from my office, who happened to be on call that night, explained the process and started with a balloon catheter to dilate my cervix. It was painful—like my worst day-one period cramps where I’d normally be doubled over in bed.
A few hours later, we moved to a delivery room. I was given medication to soften my cervix, then Pitocin to kick things off. The dosage increased every half hour, and at first, I was able to sleep through it. But around 2 a.m., I woke up in pain. I ran to the bathroom, the nurse asked if I wanted an epidural, but I wasn’t ready yet. Instead, she gave me options to manage the pain, including rocking on an inflatable chair that looked like a pool-toy toilet. I tried that, went back to sleep, then woke up again an hour later in excruciating pain. My body was shaking with the contractions. They lasted about 45 minutes before subsiding, and by morning, everything slowed again.
The nurses restarted Pitocin, and this time I tried a nitrous oxide mask. It took the edge off, but the pain was still intense. By then, I was dilated past 6 cm. After a few more bathroom trips to make sure I was completely empty (💩—yep), I decided it was time for the epidural.
Nothing but smiles once the epidural was given
Once it kicked in, my legs and butt were completely numb. My left leg even slid off the bed without me realizing. I could still feel pressure and some pain, but it was manageable. I had a button to increase medication when I needed it, and the nurse repositioned me every 20 minutes. Before long, I was 9.5 cm dilated.
The doctor came in and explained the delivery process. She wanted to wait as long as possible before I pushed—letting my body do the work so pushing would be easier. Hours later, at 7 p.m., it was finally time. We did a few practice pushes, then rested, and soon the room was fully set up. Delivery began, and after about five sets of three pushes, Ioanna was here.
It wasn’t difficult. It wasn’t traumatic. It wasn’t anything like I feared it would be. George stood between us, supporting me while also making sure our baby girl was okay. The doctor and nurse talked me through everything step by step.
When Ioanna arrived, I felt emotionally numb—like I wanted to cry but couldn’t. It was as if I was six inches underwater: I could hear everything, but not clearly. I don’t even remember the moment they handed her to me, since she was being cared for right after delivery. Eventually, they placed her in my arms, just for a little while before moving us to recovery.
