Part 3 of a 4 part series. See part 1 and part 2

As night turned into day, the nurse cranked up the pitocin little by little, but I didn't feel a thing. The monitor didn't register many contractions either. In fact, the contractions I had felt at home for two days were much stronger.

Around 11 a.m., yet another OB from the group practice came in to check me. I was 4 cm dilated. She used the hook to break my water. All hell broke lose. The room started to turn over backwards. I was screaming, crying, gasping. I thought I was going to die. My husband held my hand and told me to breathe. I told him where he could shove it.

The doctor stood over me and told me if I thought it hurts now, he highly recommended pain medication. "Yes, please," was all I could say, agreeing to an epidural. The anesthesiologist was in surgery, so I earned my stripes in full labor for a good half hour.

Getting the epidural wasn't bad, I was eager for the relief it would provide. However, it was the first time in two days that I was allowed to sit up and doing so made my blood pressure drop. By the time the line was in, I had passed out and was put on oxygen.

Despite the rough start, the epidural was fantastic. I couldn't feel a thing from the waist down. However, I had a sharp shooting pain in my upper back, like someone was stabbing me through my shoulder blade into my heart. From this point on, I couldn't lay on my back anymore, just my side.

Every time a baby was born, the hospital intercom played a lullaby. The day was so busy that the lullaby would be followed by the sound of the doctor's shoes scampering across the ward to deliver another baby.

When my doctor finally got a chance to check in on me, I was fully dilated and ready to push. In fact, the baby's head had just three inches to go. The problem was I couldn't feel anything and my contractions were still erratic. After about an hour of pushing, I asked the nurse if we could turn up the pitocin and turn down the epidural. We did that, but it didn't do any good.

I pushed and pushed and pushed with all of my might for three and a half hours. But with magnesium sulfate coursing through my veins, I literally felt like a corpse. When the doctor checked me again, the baby hadn't moved an inch. After three days in the hospital and about 30 hours since the induction began, I needed a C-section.

I have to admit, at the time, I felt like a major failure. Women in my family traditionally have quick, easy labors. My baby wasn't even that big, but I couldn't push him out. I later found out he was wedged in there pretty good. Apparently, when they broke my water, he came crashing down, wedging his arms and shoulders in my pelvis.

Next: What Matters Most: My Little Boy Is Here