Childbirth is sort of funny....sort of cruelly funny. You spend 37 weeks praying that you don't go into early labor, then the next couple of weeks you do everything you can to encourage that baby to make his appearance, then about a week or so after he arrives you just wish you could rewind to being pregnant because that was the last time you felt the most normal (and also protect the baby from the sick children whose crazy parents bring them into the WELL CHILD waiting room at the pediatrician's office!! Seriously, what is going on with that?! Have I just not been a parent long enough to understand it?).
The day before Davy was born (a day which I have been replaying minute for minute in my head for the past six weeks) was my actual due date, Monday, December 22nd. We went to the doctor that morning, not expecting any change from the time before (and there wasn't), to check on things and schedule an induction for the following week. I was positive that we would be there for that induction, haha. I said to several people, "We're going to have to drag him out kicking and screaming." Then to my surprise, I woke up with period-like cramps around five o'clock the next morning. After waiting to see if the contractions were somewhat consistent, I finally told Robby I thought I needed to get out of bed and take a warm bath around 5:30. The bath was great, but the material our tub is made of feels like ice even with hot water in it so it was a little hard to relax. We waited some more and started timing the contractions. I got in our glider and it seemed like they slowed down, but then picked back up. By 8 or 9 the contractions were coming much more intensely- mostly in my back, and that was throughout the entire labor (I made a lot of use out of hot blankets and applied pressure for some relief)- and much closer together. We called the doctor, who said to go on tp labor and delivery. However, I was pretty hungry at this point so we walked over to the neighborhood grocery store (stopping a few times along the way and in the store for contractions because I couldn't walk through them anymore) for some popsicles. We got those Whole Fruit kind, lemon flavored. I think we still have a few left. Oh, I forgot until just now, we also got some rice to put in a tube sock for my back. Ok, continuing- we stayed home for about an hour after that then went on to the hospital. We would have stayed longer because I was handling the pain just fine and didn't intend to get medication of any kind anyway, but I tested positive for Group B Strep when I was 36 weeks, meaning that I needed IV antibiotics during labor to prevent the baby from being infected (it doesn't happen often, but when it does it is very serious so why risk it? I would much rather I be uncomfortable for a few hours than him be sick).
The drive to the hospital was....haha, fun and not fun. The weather was nasty and we took the back way to the hospital, which is kind of bumpy, so that we could turn right into the parking lot and the contractions don't stop for transportation, but we were so thrilled and excited and disbelieving that we were going to finally meet Davy that day! Anyways, we get to labor and delivery and it seems that the doctor's office has not actually called to tell them that we were coming, but they got right into a room anyway. I changed and got my IVs- it took three tries to get one in, I still had bruises from those when I went back into the hospital a week later- and monitors started while Robby finished up our admission paperwork. We were sort of convinced that we might have come prematurely or it might be false labor, but I was already dilated to five centimeters when we were admitted. "We're off to a good start!" the doctor said. Then, we found out that I had to be hooked up to the monitors the entire time :/ (the nurse in our unmedicated delivery class said that it is sometimes an option to only be monitored 15 minutes out of every hour, but I guess that depends on you doctor) so my mobility became severely restricted. I was still able to get out of the bed and stand- which is mostly what we did, I leaned against Robby and breathed through the contractions while he pressed on my back to help with that pain- or use the birthing ball (which was ok, but not all that impressive for me). They had a little bit of trouble keeping the monitors in the right spot because of my small size. Around 7cm, the doctor asked if I was ready to have my water broken, BUT HE ASKED IN THE MIDDLE OF A CONTRACTION AND THEN LEFT!!! Did he really think he got an accurate answer? Well, he probably wasn't thinking about that. I continued to breath through the contractions, though as time went on my breaths got much shorter. Another of my tactics was thinking of yoga stretches or choir songs during contractions, sometimes both- it worked pretty well actually! I really, really think that I could have made it if things hadn't stalled out. I managed to stay upright the entire time, even when I was in the bed, but around six pm Davy's head still wasn't moving down. I was 9cm and maybe a little less at this point so the doctor broke my water and inserted an internal monitor to see how strong my contractions really were. He gave me another hour to progress, but then we would have to start Pitocin and talk about a C-section if that didn't work. An hour later, no change- the doctor seemed to think maybe the contractions either weren't strong enough or weren't close enough together to move things along. He told the nurse to start Pitocin and suggested that an epidural might be a good idea since I would have to have one anyway to have a C-section. I agreed to the epidural with hopes that it actually might help my progression. I think the anesthesiologist was a little surprised to be giving an epidural to someone already at 9cm, but was very nice and very quick. After they started the Pitocin, it seemed like Davy's heart dropped. All of sudden there were about five nurses surrounding me, flipping me from one side to the other, tapping on Davy's head (yes, from the inside, thank goodness I was pretty numb at this point....though I have often, jokingly, considered "well if they were in there tapping on his head, why didn' they just go ahead and pull him out?!" ha, if only), shoving an oxygen mask on my face. Finally things seemed to normalize. I sort of wonder if it was an actual drop in his heart rate in response to the Pitocin or if maybe the monitors slipped again. Probably the former, I think. So glad it was resolved. Ok, the doctor came back in and checked me. I have no idea if I had progressed or not. They had me push twice, I guess to see if Davy would move down a little. He must not have, because the doctor started apologizing that we would have to do the C-section after all our planning and hard work. Sigh.
At the time Robby was more upset by the C-section than I was. I think all that oxytocin from labor enables moms to make decisions to just do what seems best for our babies without regard really to what it means to mom at the time or what it will mean later. Looking back, it's amazing how relaxed I was about it. I'm not a panicker by nature, but I thought that I would at least be a little more regretful (I guess I saved it all for now!). Let's see, I remember Robby putting his OR garb on, but I don't really remember them rolling me to the OR. They rolled me on to the operating table, then strapped my arms down (apparently people have the tendency to reach forward when they feel the pressure of the doctors taking the baby and placenta out). My shoulders were very tensed up and no matter how I tried I could not relax them. It was a strange sensation. They put the curtain up and said they were about to start. Whoa! Where is my husband?! I was afraid they had forgotten him, silly me. Robby arrived and they started. I don't know if the OR teams know this, but you can totally see the entire surgery in the reflection of the special overhead lights- I watched the whole thing. The nurse anesthetist kept us apprised of what was going on (like I couldn't see it for myself ;) ). She warned me that there was about to be pressure when they took the baby out. "This is your labor" she said. HAHAHA! Right. Then we heard him. That first cry is amazing. It's frustrating not being able to hold him right away. I was able to watch them clean him up on a little tv screen. They called Robby over and let him carry Davy out to recovery while the doctors closed me back up. The closing was interminable. I kept watching and waiting, listening to the doctors mutter something about "I've never seen that before..." Still don't know what that was. I guess it wasn't important enough for them to tell me about it and I forgot to ask the next day. In the midst of this, the upper half of my body started shaking uncontrollably. I was prepared to be cold, but this wasn't from cold. It was a bit of a surprise. I was still shaking when they FINALLY rolled me to recovery 30 minutes after Davy was delivered.
I finally got to hold my baby! Much later than I would have liked, but I wouldn't trade that first moment for anything. He wasn't crying. The nurse gave him to me skin-to-skin. We decided to try breastfeeding and in two seconds he had an absolutely perfect latch. So lucky after everything we had been through!!
Well, that's pretty much it. We had the typical 72 hour stay in the hospital after the C-section. Celebrated Christmas and everything. Davy was wonderful. We were wonderful. No troubles. Sorry for the epic post! I'll cover post-partum next time.
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