Happy Birth Day

The last two weeks of our lives has been incredibly hectic, so I’m breaking it down. This one might have some intimate, gory details, so if you’re not into that, maybe skip it. I think you can figure out what happens from the title.

Tuesday the 24th, 2 AM. I went to the bathroom, and when I finished, an extra burst of liquid came out of me. It was short-lived, but it felt weird and different, and I thought maybe my water had broken. I went back to bed, cautious of that. As soon as I sat down, more liquid came gushing out of me. I know, lovely. I called the doctor since I had no other labor signs, which can be a little dangerous. I said I thought my water had broken since I still honestly wasn’t sure. He wasn’t at all concerned, told me to try to wait until 7 or 7:30 to go to the hospital. Said if it had really broken, labor would start on its own. Told me to try to get some more rest.

Yeah. That’s going to happen when you might have a slight medical situation on your hands.

 Luckily, Jon was able to get back to sleep. He does worse on no sleep than I do, so I was grateful, because if we did have to drive somewhere, obviously he would be behind the wheel. Meanwhile, I got up every couple of minutes to go back to the bathroom, and more and more liquid was just coming out all over the place. It was just this uncontrollable leak, and it got everywhere. I was so disgusted on the one hand, but I was also glad that this seemed to be happening naturally.

Finally, around 5 o’clock, I noticed some green brown gunk in all the fluid, and I got really nervous. I know that sometimes the baby’s poop can get mixed in with the amniotic fluid, which could be really bad for her. So I called my doctor again. He was still super calm, or maybe just drowsy at 5:30 in the morning, but he did tell me to go ahead into the hospital. He would call them and let them know I was on my way.

I took a shower, got dressed, had a banana and a piece of toast because I knew I wouldn’t be allowed to eat once I was in the hospital. Good thing it’s five minutes away! I had started to have contractions, but they were far from regular or long enough to be considered fully in labor or be concerned about getting there quickly.

It took us a couple of minutes to get registered when we got to the hospital. They offered me a wheelchair to go upstairs to labor and delivery, but I declined. I wasn’t feeling too bad. Had to pause a couple times in the hallway on the way to the elevators to breathe, but I made it. My doctor had called, so they were ready for me. They got me a room and a hospital gown. I settled in to the hospital bed, and they hooked me up to a fetal monitor as well as an IV.

And then we did a lot of sitting around waiting. We closed our eyes and attempted to sleep. Of course, an interesting thing about being in the labor and delivery ward is you can sometimes hear other people in labor. Somewhere around 6:45, there was a woman absolutely screaming. She was making all kinds of noises that I compared to someone strangling a seagull. It was not exactly comforting for anyone else who might have been listening in. Can’t they sound proof these rooms? (This was the only woman we heard though. And another nurse told me later that it was pretty busy in there that day. I guess they must’ve left her door open for some reason.)

I was introduced to some student nurses and asked if it was OK if they observed me. Of course it was. There were a lot of them in and out throughout the next couple of days.

My parents arrived somewhere around 10 or 10:30. They brought muffins and coffee, but obviously I couldn’t have anything. I was absolutely starving by then. I asked my nurse about food, and she called my doctor to doublecheck, but he wouldn’t let me eat anything. She did give me some apple juice and said we wouldn’t tell him, and we had brought ice pops with us that we knew would be approved, so I had one of those. That made me feel a little better. Munching on nothing but ice chips does not exactly fill up your stomach.

Not too long after that, they put me on Pitocin to try to regulate my contractions. They still weren’t coming in any pattern or quickly enough. Once I got onto that, they did pick up a bit. After all that fussing and wondering what they felt like, they just felt like bad menstrual cramps. I guess that’s not how they feel for everyone. I had read that was how they might feel, but it was a very big might. I still don’t know what this hardening of the uterus that everyone talks about is. Just. Cramps.

From about 11:30 to 12:30, I had one really long period of cramping. It was extremely unpleasant, but I know it could’ve been worse. At that point, my mom recommended getting an epidural. When my nurse came in, my mom asked her about it. She emphatically asked me how I felt about it at that point. I thought about waiting a little longer, but I finally conceded. What was the point in pushing through if I was going to get it eventually? They asked Jon and my parents to leave the room while I got it, so they went to get lunch.

I had read about being in an uncomfortable position while you get an epidural, but that wasn’t the case. I just had to sit with my legs over the side of the bed hugging a pillow. I had to bend over the pillow a little bit. The anesthesiologist put whatever into my spine. It wasn’t comfortable, and I flinched. I loved when he asked me to stay still. I think the first step of an epidural is a relatively large tube, and with that being Inserted into your spine, staying still isn’t the easiest thing to do. But he was very kind and understanding. Once that was over, a couple of other things got inserted. I got a remote control so I could give myself more doses of the painkiller if I wanted to. The system is regulated so you can’t overdose, so I could push the little button for more medication as many times as I wanted. I felt immediate relief and was so glad I had gotten it. I did then have to get a catheter since you can’t get yourself to and from the bathroom with the epidural. I could still feel my legs, they were just super warm and tingly. I’m sure putting pressure on them would have supported nothing.

Not long after that, my doctor finally made it in to see me. It was really weird to see him in a T-shirt and jeans instead of scrubs. He asked me if anyone had done an exam on me since I came in, but no one had. Actually, the first nurse who was on duty when we came in said she would, but she never got around to it. To be fair, the shift change of the nurses was happening about half an hour after we came in. And there was strangled seagull woman, so I assumed things got a little messy.

So, donning a glove, the doctor reached into me and… Got this look on his face. One of those “oh boy“ kind of smiles. With a sort of laugh he said, “I think I felt a butt. Get me an ultrasound machine now.”

The ultrasound came in, and it took a few minutes to turn on and start working. But as soon as it did, Dr. got the same look on his face. “She’s breach. Stop the Pitocin now.“ Because suddenly, I needed a C-section.

That made me feel a little weird. Funny enough, I used to think I wanted a C-section. I know there would be a lot less pain involved with that. However, the more people I talked to, the more I heard that even though natural birth is more painful, the recovery is almost nonexistent, whereas with a C-section, the recovery can be pretty horrific. I had gotten used to the idea of a vaginal birth, and now I wasn’t going to have it.

Not to mention, Jon and my parents were still at lunch, and Dr wanted to get this done ASAP. “Before someone bumps us,“ as he put it. Luckily, everyone was on their way back up, so I sent a text and told them to hurry.

As soon as Jon got back to the room, they had him change into scrubs. Then off we went.  I was mildly freaking out since I still had feeling in my lower half. The anesthesiologist assured me everything would be fine. He started putting some other form of numbing into the epidural, and it made me feel really cold. They rolled me into the operating room and had Jon sit outside for a minute. I was told that I would feel some things, but not any pain. Some pressure, some pushing and pulling. If I did feel pain, I needed to let someone know immediately.

Not long after that I felt quite a pinch. I verbally expressed an ouch or two. The anesthesiologist said it was OK to say ouch, but if I was in a lot of pain, I really needed to let him know. It wasn’t that bad though.

Then Jon was brought into the room. He told me later that I was already cut open, so I guess that was what I had felt. He averted his eyes as they led him around to my head. I was covered by a big blue tarp with my arms outstretched. He sat on the side of the tarp with me so he couldn’t see what was going on. Amazingly, it was only about five minutes before we heard our little girl crying. I could not believe how quickly the surgery went. Jon was a little concerned because there was this weird sucking noise mixed in with her crying as the doctor used something to get fluid out of her lungs. Right around that time, I started shaking uncontrollably; I guess my body went into shock. He was getting increasingly worried about both of us until he heard the doctors cracking jokes with one another. That was a mild clue that everything was OK.

At that point, I just wanted to see the baby. I asked for her at least once. Jon brought her into my line of sight, but I had to look at her upside down over my shoulder because of the angle we were all at. I didn’t realize it, but apparently I was still cut open and I think the placenta was being removed. Understandably, Jon was in no hurry to see that happening. So he had to stand awkwardly with the baby to avoid seeing me all bloody and messy.

Not long after that, Jon and baby Lily left to get some testing done. I heard the doctors say something about my placenta – I guess the umbilical cord was still in a weird place. But it had clearly had no effect on her growth. I can’t believe that was something we were worried about half my pregnancy ago.

I was wheeled into recovery, still shaking badly. That eventually stopped on its own. I laid in my bed, watching my vital machines clicking away. The nurse present urged me to close my eyes and get some rest. I just wanted to see my baby! I didn’t know how long it was going to take until then.

Probably half an hour later or so, Jon and Lily finally came into the recovery room. They put Lily right into my arms and wanted me to feed her immediately. I wasn’t really sure how that would go, but it turned out to be very easy. Lily latched on to me right away. She had no trouble eating. It was another one of those moments where I realized just how instinctual human behavior can be.

How did it all feel? Amazing. Seeing Lily with her chubby little cheeks and adorable little nose took my breath away. She’s finally ours! Yay!

And that is pretty much the story of how Lily, our beautiful baby girl, was born. Obviously, there’s a lot more coming on our hospital stay and our transition to home. But those are other stories for another time.

PS – it turned out that Lily weighed 9 lbs. 10 oz. when she was born. In other words, she was a massive baby! When my doctor checked in with me in the next day, he said there was no way she was going to come out vaginally at that size. Good thing she kicked herself out of position! To think of the hours painful labor I would’ve gone through to end up having a C-section anyway… Just another common courtesy given to me by my daughter.