I never thought it would take me almost a week to shout this awesome news from the rooftops, but here it finally is! Our baby girl arrived on 4/5/11 at exactly 5:30PM. She weighed in at 7 pounds 2 ounces and measured 20.95 inches.
That is the short of it.
And now for the long version that I am so famous for. : )
Some History:
As you all know by now, I was determined to give her a solid 2 weeks past her due date to finish at her own pace. Her "end date" (eviction via C-Section) changed a few times in the process, but we eventually agreed to Saturday, April 9 -- and that was close enough for me. My doctor was VERY nervous about going that far as it was. When I asked her about waiting until the 11th, she said she can't go past the 2 weeks. Since the 10th was a Sunday, she said she'd schedule me for her on call day (Saturday) instead of the 7th, which is where it was moved to when the 8th was all booked up. (Are you following all this jumping around on the calendar???)
So, we thought we were set for April 9, and since I was officially going to go at least a week past my due date unless something happened, she had me schedule the BPP ultrasound to check things out while I was waiting that last week or so.
The Day Before the Big Event:
Monday morning came and we all (Marti, my mom and Ron, and I) filed in to the room for the sonogram. As crowded as it was in there (my uterus, not the procedure room, ha ha!), we were still able to get a sneak peak at Hanna's face when the tech turned the machine on to 3D. She took some measurements of the baby as well as everything around her to make sure she was doing ok in there and not "going downhill" as the pregnancy dragged on.
The only thing she noted that could be a problem was the fluid level. (More on that later!) She said it was a 6 (or something like that) and they like to see it over 10. Under 5 is a problem, so she said I fell into that gray area in between and called in the doctor as well as had my doctor notified.
They put me on the heartbeat and uterine monitors again and said the baby looked beautiful based on those readings. I saw the strip that came out of the machine and there was NOTHING going on in the contraction department. Nothing. Not even a blip or contraction that showed up but I didn't feel, as happens almost every other time I was monitored in my last few weeks.
I went home and waited for my doctor to call, knowing what the low fluid reading was going to mean. She was already nervous before this. Surely she would want to get me in that day or the next! I was worried about having just eaten, so I wasn't sure if she could even DO surgery on me so soon. When she called, I recognized her voice and we spoke of my options. After standing my ground for so long, I was amazingly peaceful about relenting and scheduling the C-section for the following afternoon. There was a real reason to relent, so she didn't need to convince me. I was already ready to cut the risks and get this baby into my arms.
She scheduled the surgery for 1:30 the following afternoon and gave me instructions on what to do and when to be where. I immediately started planning my last meal since I would have to go from midnight that night until 1:30 the following afternoon without a bite to eat. Having low blood sugar made me the type of person that thinks of that first when there is so much else to think about!
It was sort of a good thing I planned a meal for shortly before midnight, too, because........
How It Started:
After I spoke to the doctor, we went out to see a movie. (The King's Speech - EXCELLENT movie!) Twice during the movie I had really strong contractions, and also another smaller one. I had jokingly told my belly about the surgery the following day and said "last call!" Well, it looked like little Hannah took me seriously and started doing everything she could to get out on her own!
After the movie, we picked Abby up from school and then took her out to dinner to an Irish Pub that she discovered the day before when we were hunting for a place to grab a bite. After dinner, I took Abby to the restroom and discovered I was about to be in a mess of trouble if we didn't get going -- NOW!
TMI WARNING! Skip the next paragraph if you're feeling ultra-proper and don't want to hear THAT much detail!
It turned out that I was beginning to have what is referred to as a "bloody show." While it wasn't THAT bad, it was still quite apparent when I wiped and I was wearing white pants - so I didn't have a choice in the matter. I NEEDED to get out of there, PRONTO!
I bolted out to tell Marti we had to go and that there was no time to finish his Guinness. Not knowing that this sign I was observing wasn't a BIG deal yet, he looked a little panicked! I talked him down, I stopped and got gas on the way home, and then we began waiting.
I probably only had 3 contractions during the 7:00 hour, but then they started picking up. They got closer and closer, as well as MUCH more painful. More "signs" like before that my body was really, really getting ready this time, and I was convinced that this was really going to happen!
Eventually, Marti went to bed and asked if I was coming. I don't think he grasped the magnitude of what I was feeling and was oblivious to the fact that there was NO WAY I was going to be able to sleep through these contractions. Furthermore, if I was getting contractions, HE would not be able to sleep through them either, so there was NO point in
my coming to bed.
As labor progressed, I tracked and timed and paced and panted. As soon as I'd find a comfortable position to ride out a contraction, another one would come that needed a different position. I'm sure if my blinds were open and if the neighbors saw me, they'd wonder what the heck I was doing!!!
I woke Marti up and told him that there was a strong possibility that he'd need to take me to the hospital soon and he might want to get up and get dressed just in case. He didn't think it was that urgent and went back to sleep - even though I tried to remind him that he'd need to get himself dressed, get Abby up at least, if not dressed, get her in the car, and get the suitcase in the car when the actual moment of panic arrived.
Eventually, I reached that magic hour where I had been having regular contractions every 3-5 minutes -- more so sneaking up on 3 minutes and even less occasionally! (Those 1 minute intervals were a
little scary!)
I woke Marti again and told him I was fairly certain this was it, and even if it wasn't, I still needed to go to the hospital. NOW. We loaded up, called my mom and Ron to meet us at the hospital to take Abby for us, and headed on our way.
The Hospital (AKA "It's Official!")
He dropped me at the front door and waited for me to get in before getting back into the car to park it. I made my way up to the women's center with not one person coming to my aid, and then walked my own ass back to "Triage Room #6, back around to your left" with the same level of nonchalance. Did I look that calm that nobody came running with a wheel chair, insisting I sit, if for no other reason than "hospital regulations????" That was an odd moment, especially since I called on our way down there and they knew I was coming, but I did make my way back to the room and a nurse immediately met me to help me into the room and get prepped.
She was pleasant and helpful and whisked me right through the remaining check in procedures. (I thankfully had pre-registered at the urging of Marti AND my HR department at work. Thanks guys, for the prodding!) They assured me that I was, in fact, in full on labor and this baby was coming!
It wasn't long before they got me my own nurse and a real Labor and Delivery Room. Everything was great and after taking some measurements, I was THRILLED to hear labor was progressing quite well all by itself this time without any special interventions.
As the contractions got worse (coupled with Marti announcing the numerical levels they were reaching on the monitor), I was convinced I was finally close to being ready for an epidural. The nurse had asked me a few times if I was ready, but I wanted to ride out the contractions, without the risk of the labor-stalling epidural, for as long as I could stand it.
I heard some talk in the hall about how busy the anesthesiologist was, so that played a part in my agreeing to get it done at the time I had agreed to get it. It turned out to be a good thing I gave in to that a little earlier than I thought I would have, because by the time she arrived and was ready to put it in, I was nearly writhing in pain during the contractions! I am glad I didn't end up in one of those situations where it was TOO LATE to get an epidural!!!
Also, I was sooooo pleased with the epidural this time! It took effect in about 10 minutes and before I knew it, people were looking at the monitor and asking me, "Did you feel that?" Funny thing was, I could still move my legs (and COULD pretty much the entire time), but I couldn't feel any of the contractions any more. If I did feel anything, I really just felt like when the baby moved around in my belly. So, I wasn't completely numb or paralyzed, but I was not in any sort of
pain AT ALL at that point either. It was AWESOME!
Oh, back to the low fluid level that led me to schedule the 1:30PM C-section. It turns out that when the nurse was checking me, she discovered that the amniotic sack was actually BULGING! So, not only was the fluid level not a danger, it turned out that it was JUST FINE! Had labor not started, I could have continued through that last week without worrying about that risk. However, there is no way we could have known that if labor had NOT started, so it's a moot point.
Anyway, I was at about 4cm at that point with every indication that I was still progressing. I was one happy lady! I was going to get my VBAC after all!!!!
Or, so I thought! Things slowed a little, so I was offered pitocin. I was dead set against it originally because I thought it sort of caused the events leading to my needing a C-section to get Abby out. But, since I had already resigned myself to a C-section the previous afternoon, I figured what was the worst that could happen? I go through with the plan from the day before and I still have a chance at a VBAC in the mean time.
Up went the bag of pitocin, and my contractions really picked up. I was feeling a little pain, but it was manageable and I thought that's just how it had to be since everyone says pitocin contractions are the worst!!! Plus, last time I was holding back on the epidural as much as possible since it was stalling my labor, so I felt WAY more of my contractions with Abby than I should have. The nurse was NOT happy with me and assured me that I could bump up my epidural and not feel ANY pain the entire delivery. And if I was not feeling pain, labor could progress better, so just push the button and stop being a hero. (She didn't put it that way, but I felt that vibe. She was great!)
Things picked up, and not long after getting the news that I was at 7cm, I was given the news that I was at 8 cm and was going to deliver this baby BEFORE the C-section appointment time (1:30 PM for those of you that skimmed, have short term memory issues, or can't keep up with my rambling). I don't know what happened, but, for all intents and purposes, at that point everything stopped.I didn't
know it was over at that point, so I kept waiting/trying.
We were waiting for the baby's head to move over into position before breaking my water. IF they broke the water before then, since the baby's head wasn't fully engaged yet, there was a risk of the cord slipping out the gap and that would cause problems I don't even want to think of! So, we waited, and waited, and waited... My water eventually broke as I was lying there, but...
Baby's head
STILL did NOT engage! I was still 8cm, cervix still "soft and stretchy" and ready to go when baby got with the program, but she was not cooperating for some reason. Also, my cervix had been starting to get swollen during all this time, and that posed a whole new set of issues. The nurse brought in a big peanut shaped yoga ball thingy to put between my knees. Apparently, being in that position allows the hips to open up a little more, and in theory would help move the baby down into place.
What it really did was immediately send the baby into distress!!! In the span of about 3 seconds flat, the two nurses that were trying to position me were joined by what must have been every nurse on the entire floor! They came running out of nowhere and into my room asking if they could help. An oxygen mask was put on my face and all the while, Marti was watching this and still wondering what the hell just happened! I had no idea either, so I couldn't do anything to calm his nerves. We just "stood back" and let them do their thing to try to help the baby get over whatever just happened. I didn't want to ask or freak out because a nurse that could be trying to resolve the issue having to stop to talk to me would NOT improve the situation. I always tell my friends that I am not the "come to me and cry on my shoulder" friend, but the "settle down and what are we going to do to fix this" friend. I guess since I did the same thing for myself in this situation, it shows I can walk the walk in that sense, as well as talk the talk. I'm pretty proud of Marti and myself for remaining calm and letting them do what they came to do without any interruptions from us. I mean, you see these TV shows and movies where the parents are freaking out and they have to be dragged from the room. The doctors are just trying to do their thing, and they have to waste precious moments calming or even working around the parents. I did not want to be one of those parents at a time like this and have any of the lost seconds be the ones that "could have" changed the outcome of the situation.
My doctor came rushing back in to see me. Her office is right across the street and they have monitors in the office to see exactly the same thing the nurses in the hospital see in my room or at their station. It turns out that even though
flat on your back is NOT a good position during pregnancy, and especially during late pregnancy, that is the position I was in for most of my labor -- and it was also the position that baby did the best in! Go figure! When they put me on my side to try the peanut ball, THAT'S when the baby went into distress!
Since you are reading that Hannah arrived, you know they got it all worked out and nothing bad happened in the process. Her head, however, did NOT move to where it needed to be, and I remained at 8cm ALL AFTERNOON!
The time had come to just sign the paper and get her out. I could feel the disappointment in my nurse, Robbie, as she was REALLY rooting for me to get my VBAC and have a great experience doing so. But, I had been "here" before and just couldn't stomach the idea of even another hour wasted on another fruitless labor.
For some reason, I got REALLY cold when they were prepping me for surgery, so I literally COULD NOT EVEN SIGN MY NAME on the form! It was funny and disturbing at the same time. I was shaking SO badly that I ended up just scribbling on the form just to get it done. It was not even pretending to be a signature. I should go get a copy of that form just for kicks to see if it's as bad as I remember.
Actually, I had forgotten that I spiked a fever RIGHT before surgery, so I guess that could have contributed to the shivery episode.
I knew I was only going to get colder once we got to the operating room -- it always does -- but there was nothing I could do about it. Also, the drugs they had/were giving me, along with having been in labor since 10:00 PM and not eating since 12:00AM, suddenly resulted in my barely being able to keep my eyes open. The doctor that was assisting my OB/GYN, "Phil," was very friendly and talkative. He was trying to engage me in conversation either just for the sake of being friendly, or maybe to try to relax me so I'd stop trembling uncontrolably. I finally had to tell him I didn't mean to be rude, but I was so exhausted that I had nothing to say in reply to his chatting, and appologized for the one word answers he'd been getting from me. My fatigue was so bad that I was seriously afraid I was going to fall asleep and miss the whole thing! I thought maybe I could look up and see the reflection of the surgery in the huge light above my bed, but they changed them since Abby was delivered and rather than acting as a mirror of sorts, the view was obscured beyond recognition this time.
I felt bad for not being on a high and not jumping for joy when she arrived, but I was so uncontrollably tired! Don't get me wrong, I was over the moon when I heard her cry for the first time! But I think what happened was I was so fatigued from all the severe shivering and shaking I was doing the entire time in surgery, plus all the other factors listed above, AND the immense sense of relief that it was finally over and she made it into our lives for real!
Marti took some pictures in the delivery room, but nobody offered to take one of the three of us together with the baby like last time -- and like just about every parent under the sun has in their baby albums. I remember them offering when Abby was born, but maybe I just assumed it would eventually happen, or I was too tired to even think to ask. Marti took some pictures over the curtain, but his timing and aim was not what it was when Abby was born and you can't even see the baby in the pictures. However, I've really gotta give him credit for having his head on straight enough to
consider not wanting to interrupt their work or intrude on what they were doing! I noticed the camera kept flashing, but didn't have the energy to tell him how to turn the flash off. I was in a daze. Just think if he would have flashed it in the eyes of one or more of the doctors while they were working on me. I'd rather err on the side of caution, too! So, "Bravo" to Marti for being safe rather than sorry.
He got lots of pictures of the baby getting cleaned up and weighed. I was amazed at how blue she looked in the pictures when I flipped through the camera later! It was no big deal and she still got high apgar scores, although I don't remember exactly what they were now that I think of it. I just remember hearing them talk and being happy to hear what they said.
Eventually they finished collecting the cord blood and closing me up. They took the baby from Marti and had me hold her as we went to a recovery room. Marti said he could hold her and they insisted the mother must hold the baby. I have no idea what THAT was all about, but if I were Marti, I'd be a little miffed about that.
Recovery:
We arrived in the recovery room and were greeted by my mom and Ron with Abby, as well as Marti's mom and Jim. It was getting late and they had all been there for quite a while waiting out labor in the other room with us. We gave Abby her presents and were still waiting for them to let her ring the lullaby bell to announce to the entire hospital that another baby had been born. Eventually, they declared me recovered - from the fever or the surgery? I don't remember. But they moved me to a regular room and we finally got to settle in.
I had plans of sitting around with the baby on my chest, skin to skin, immediately after delivery, but that never happened -- perhaps because I was recovering from that fever still, perhaps because I spent so much of that time still shivering uncontrollably, perhaps because the nurse was busy entering my vitals and whatnot into the computer, perhaps because nobody wanted to kick our families out of the room or expose me in front of the crowd, or perhaps because nobody remembered that's what I wanted to do and I was, once again, too tired to ask for it. It's all a blur now, but I do remember it being entirely different than last time and also nothing like I had planned for.
Was the delivery experience everything I hoped for? Not really, but I'm SO over it. I think by having THOUGHT for the entire day prior that I was going to get a C-section helped me to let go of my plans and just let it happen however it was going to happen. In the end, ALL that matters is Hannah is here now and we're all doing just fine as we find our new routine as a family of four.
A lot more has happened in the days following her birth, but I'll save that for another post. For now, that's the BEYOND INCREDIBLY LONG version of everything I can remember of Hannah's birthday, which coincidentally is the same as my maternal great-grandmother. See!
I TOLD you she was going to land on someone else's birthday! ; )
