I just finished writing the following entry. As I got to the end, I realized that it was not the end at all, and that I could go on and on and on writing about our emotional stay at the hospital; the trip home that included me bawling my eyes out and stopping at the Arby's drive through for lunch with our precious cargo in the back seat, out in the world for the first time; the sleepless nights that followed our arrival home; the loving but unsettled reaction that Cortlan had to his sister's arrival; the weeks of non-stop crying due to colic or reflux; and the wonderful moments that came after we all got settled and adjusted to life as a family of four. Someday, I may come back to this post and at least add some more about the hospital stay and the things I felt and experienced at that time. But, at least for today, I had to stop somewhere. So, for my own record (and sorry to bore you), here is the relatively uneventful story of Everly's birth, one year after the fact:
I had gone to bed very stressed. At my doctor's appointment the prior Thursday, my doctor suggested that I be induced on Tuesday, March 10th. For as much as I just wanted this baby to be here, and as much as I would have liked to know exactly how and when it was going to happen, there was something that made me uneasy about the thought of getting induced. I just wanted it to happen. I wanted it to be spontaneous and unexpected. But it was so darn convenient to know that I would go to the hospital Tuesday morning and come home with a baby. I stressed about this decision like you wouldn't believe. Which, in hindsight, probably wasn't the best last couple of days for my baby in utero.
So, I woke up at 2:30 AM. And with this question of to induce or not to induce weighing on my mind, I lay there thinking, going over and over the pros and cons, knowing that I had to make a decision. I couldn't get back to sleep. In the quiet of the night, I felt the baby moving (one of the things I will forever miss about being pregnant), and I felt the contractions that I had been having for weeks. At about 3:00 AM, I realized that I was having a lot of contractions. I began to time them. I timed them until 5:00 AM, when the alarm went off to wake up and get ready for work. Whether or not I was having this baby, I was not going to go to work in this state and with no sleep, and I told John as much. For hours, the contractions had been about 5 minutes apart and about 1 minute long.
It was Monday - "grandma day" for Cortlan - the one weekday that we didn't have to scoop him out of bed, get him ready for school, and take him to daycare, because my mom and John's mom split the day watching him. I called and let my mom know what was going on and that she could take her time getting to our house. I showered and got dressed and Cortlan slept peacefully. I called my substitute, and then I called the doctor at about 7AM. She instructed us to make our way the hospital.
The drive was surreal. Knowing that your life is going to change in ways you can't possibly predict is a strange and exciting sensation. We checked in, went to the triage room in the maternity ward, and got all situated to be examined. At that point, I was about 4.5 cm dilated, and 80% effaced. The contractions were coming regularly. They decided that I should stay.
The morning was long. I reclined in the bed, was periodically checked for progress, and John and I lazily watched daytime TV...Ellen, The Doctors. I caught a cat nap or two. Late in the morning, the doctor came in and suggested that she give me a little pitocin in my IV to speed the progress along. Reluctantly, I agreed to the drip. Things still moved pretty slowly, though the contractions did intensify at that point. I was asked numerous times as to whether I was ready for an epidural. I was hoping to stay mobile for as long as I could, and kept putting it off. As the afternoon wore on, I continued to progress, but slowly. Finally, around 3:30 or 4 PM, the doctor told me that if I got the epidural, they could increase the pitocin and break my water, and things would speed up considerably. So I did, and they did.
There seemed to be an inordinate number of people making their way in and out of the room from that point on...the anesthesiologist, nurses, doctors, interns, and I don't even know who else. I was checked multiple times by multiple people, and before I knew it, I was nearly there.
At about 6:10, I was told to try a practice push. Apparently, the push was a great success, because then I was immediately told to not push, and several people came in to break down the bed and get things ready to go. It didn't take long for everyone to assume their positions, with John to my right, holding my bent leg, and a nurse to my left doing the same. (I couldn't feel or move my legs on my own at all.) After four strong pushes, maybe five, I heard the amazing sound of my baby's scream. At 6:34 PM on March 9, 2009, Everly was born at a surprising 8 pounds 3 ounces. And she was beautiful.
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I too had major indecisiveness upon bringing my daughter in to this world. It turns out Abby was breech and there was NO way my dr would have let me go into labor with Abby feet first. So I was in agony over what decision to make. We tried everything physically and humanly possible to get her to flip in utero, even accupuncture and other eastern medicine techniques, she was not budging (this should give you a little insight as to how stubborn my beautiful girl really is). So at the recommendation of my dr and with the suppoert of my husband, we picked a day to have Abby via C-section. I cried for days about this decision. I did not want to be the one who picked Abby's birthday, I wanted her to pick her own. And there is something wrong about knowing when your baby is going to be here. We picked the date and for the next 3 nights I hardly slept a wink. I was anxious, tired, excited, and crabby and I am sure my husband can give you more details about my mental and emotional state during those last days "childless".
ReplyDeleteAs a result everything went off without a hitch, I still am not a fan of the C-section (and I am dreading going through another one and hoping this baby is small enough to go natural), but a 9lb 4 oz beautiful girl was born and we finally found out whether we had a girl or a boy ( we kept it a surprise and it was the only thing keeping me going those last few weeks of pregnancy when I was as big as a house and could not get comfortable sitting or laying down).
Finally the day came to come home and I was extremely excited to come home, but I too cried my eyes out the whole way home with the newest member of our family in the back seat peacefully sleeping away. I remember every little detail about that first day home and night home, since nobody got any sleep that night.....as i write this it makes me anxious and excited to go through it all over again in July, especially because I know exactly that going through everything will be amazingly worth it!
Thanks for commenting, Shawna! I am glad that you can relate to what I was feeling...I was so thankful to not have to have made that decision. But in the end, I know it would have been fine either way. (Funny how that works, huh?)
ReplyDeleteI had so much going on the day that I wrote this that I felt I rushed through it, missing a lot of the details. I stopped writing because I just didn't have time to write more, but man...the tears and tears and tears that came. I am going to have to write about that someday. I can't wait to hear your story. And it WILL be amazingly worth it, no matter how it plays out!! :)