What should feel like a positive milestone is tinged with feelings of guilt and helplessness as I could only stand by and offer words and touches of encouragement while she worked through increasingly painful contractions. We're assured this is a good sign, and upon checking a few hours later, we're finally past 1cm.
At 3cm Sam has now asked for the Epidural. The nurse appears to share the relief I feel that Sam has decided she's suffered enough.
Needles in the back
The anesthesiologist, like all of the staff we've seen, was nothing short of fantastic. He very patiently worked in-between contractions, explaining the steps of the procedure as they were performed. Unfortunately, Sam did experience the worst bit of pain so far; as through no fault of his own, he had a little bit of trouble, needing a couple tries before getting in the right spot. Through the procedure she was sitting up on the edge of the bed with her head hanging down against my chest, holding my hands. I'm sure I must have looked concerned, the doctor never stopped smiling and making small talk for my benefit as he worked.
After he pushed some pain-killer directly into the epidural, the doctor announced he was finished, turned away, and began to pick up the mess of instruments and other detritus from the epidural kit. The nurse turned her attention to the monitors, analyzing the data she hadn't seen for the past ten minutes. I stood there with Sam's head against my chest wondering when she could lay back down, when suddenly, Sam took in a huge breath making a high-pitched gasping sound as she put her head up and back with eyes closed and then went silent.
I looked at the doctor, he looked at me from 6 feet away. He looked at the nurse, who was looking back at him. I looked at the nurse as she looked at me. Sam, finally breaking her silence after what felt like minutes, exhaled a big sigh of relief and with her eyes still closed, smiled a little and said "my water just broke". The rest of us smiled at each other and breathed our own sighs of relief--at which point I quickly moved my foot so it would no longer be directly in the "line-of-fire".
Just like the movies
Despite what you see in movies, there was no big gush of water hitting floor. Even though I couldn't see any evidence that something happened, Sam definitely knew it and the nurse confirmed, laughing, saying "I told you, you'd know when it happened". Just before everything was cleaned up enough for Sam to lie back down, she made a face and announced that there was more water, a lot more water, and told me I better get out of the way. I looked down and was glad that I had not moved my foot back to where it was earlier as there was now a puddle and more coming down like someone had left a faucet on a low stream. Guess the movies do a pretty good portrayal after all.
Sweet relief
Once everything was all cleaned up and Sam was laying down, the contractions now painless, she asked for ice chips. A look of pure joy settled on her face as she chomped on one finger full of ice chips after the next. Still, I think I was more relieved than she was now that the pain was gone.