A Baby Story

Friday, January 18th after pushing the snooze button, I got up at 7:15 a.m. to get showered. First stop is ALWAYS the bathroom. It was there that I had my first hint that my amniotic sac was ruptured. We like to say, "my water broke" but the fact is it didn't just pop and dump all over. Just a reoccurring drip, drip, drizzle. This happened with Jacob too, so I was quite certain that we would end up at the hospital.

I imagine that most women race to the hospital at the first sign that their water is broken. But this is what I did: took a light shower, packed bag for the hospital, throw in a load of laundry with the new baby blanket I wanted to use, pack a bag for Jessica, put on make-up, switch clothes to dryer, put hair in rollers, arrange child care for Jessica and carpool for boys to be picked up from school, called doctors office to find out who would be delivering me (since neither of my doctors were on call), call my friend Amy who works at the hospital to get the scoop on the doctor on call, post a note on the blog that I'm heading for the hospital, & eat 1/2 banana. I'm telling you... my body doesn't go into labor by itself - there was time. I still was anxious to get to the hospital. I needed to do paperwork and get antibiotics started.

SO:

7:15 a.m. - diagnose self that water is leaking
7:30 a.m. - Get Ready to Go
9:30 a.m. - Drop off Jessica
10:00 a.m. - Arrive at hospital

Then we got to play the waiting game. The labor and delivery wing had been busy all night and morning. My nurse flat out told me that she was stalling for time since they didn't have a room. I got into my backless gown and sat on the hard bed watching the scenes from Hawaii and other picturesque sites intended to calm the laboring mother. I was dilated to 3 cm.

10:45 a.m. - Officially admitted to hospital

The next couple hours involved paperwork, starving, being bored, & waiting to get the IV started. It seems like it was close to noon when my nurse finally started searching for a vein in my wrist. She was fishing around and missing the vein at the same time as the lab was poking my other arm for blood. Have I mentioned that I HATE needles - this is only one reason why I also HATE epidurals.

Now we wait for another 20-30 minutes for another nurse to take a crack at my veins. She found one, numbed the area with lidocaine, and then lost the vain. Now we are 0 for 2 sticks in the left arm. Again we wait. This time for the anesthesiologist. She searched for veins and decided to use one between my wrist & elbow of the right arm. Finally, I'm hooked up. I've been at the hospital for over 2 hours now. In hindsight I see that I should have eaten a bigger breakfast and perhaps done more laundry.

1 p.m. - IV in & first bag of antibiotics in (I'm supposed to get 2 before baby arrives, but I've never taken pitocin for over 4 hours. The antibiotic doses need to be given 4 hours apart - that's not going to happen unless we wait a couple more hours before starting the pit drip).

Over the next couple of hours the pitocin is slowly turned up at 30-45 minute intervals. I'm contracting the uncomfortable, but tolerable contractions. Wouldn't it be nice if these easy, breezy ones could do the job. I'm trying to read a book. My hugest complaints were my growling stomach & my POUNDING headache. Are you KIDDING me?!!! Yes, tension & lack of food trigger my mean headaches. Finally-

3 p.m. - we're getting serious now. The contractions are REAL. I don't like them, but I know they'll get worse. I can breathe around them. My nurse goes to track down the doctor to make sure the sac is completely ruptured.

3:30 p.m. - Doctor arrives. I'm at 5 cm. Water is completely ruptured. Time to switch rooms.

3:35 p.m. - I'm walking down the hall with an extra gown hopefully covering my back side and dragging my IV bags. My nurse is walking too fast. I need to stop for a contraction. Clean up on aisle maternity - I'm leaking water all over.

3:40 p.m. - Arrive at new room. I decide to use the bathroom before I'm hooked up to the blood pressure cuff again. I'm contracting mean ones on the toilet. I start going hysterical because I can't find the sink to wash my hands. I barely make it into bed before the intensity spikes. The nurse is wheeling in the delivery cart and baby heater. Jon gets ice chips. I only eat one because I'm going to choke on them if I have one in my mouth while contracting. I feel like I'm 800 degrees. How did it get so hot. I can't breathe through the contractions. I think this is the closest I came to screaming. I would exhale in a moan. My sweet nurse asks if I want anything for the pain. I'm thinking, "like what? What could you possibly give me at this point that would do any good." This was it - the point where I wasn't going to take it anymore. I'm starting to panic. It's too intense to do this any longer. I felt like my body was swollen and floating. My hands started to tingle. I was dizzy. It was creepy. In retrospect, I think I was hyperventilating. I was doing all the breathing OUT, but I wasn't taking good breathes in. (Maybe I should have done a Lamaze refresher course). I wanted to be to the pushing part so bad that I was worried that I was just making it up that it was time to push. The nurse checked me out and she said cervix was dilated.

4:00 p.m. Time to push. The urge to push came differently this time. I wasn't crowning. I worried that I'd be pushing for hours (like James). I asked the doctor if he was there ready to come out. She showed me a finger width of about 2 1/2 inches that I needed to push him down. Is he going to come out soon? Then she said probably the smartest thing ever, "that depends on how well you push." I was certain that right then and there I needed to have an embarrassing movement. I was horrified. But I couldn't stop the urge to push. My face turns beet red and eventually you can see the little purple popped blood vessels around my swollen eyes. Well, I wasn't having a bowel movement - it was my baby putting pressure on the bowels. Doctor told me that with each push she was seeing more hair which was encouraging.

I did have an episiotomy. I've had one with my three previous children and scar tissue doesn't stretch well. The doctor had my blessing to get in there so I could get the baby out. (He did have a 14 inch head & 14 3/4 inch chest - I need all the help I can get).

4:10 p.m. Baby born. I was able to lean forward and see him and the long blue rubbery cord stretched out from my body to his. Jon flipped on the video camera (which broke just after this footage). He was asked if he wanted to cut the cord and he declined so he could film, so doctor handed the scissors to me. I cut the cord and a moment later my warm, slimy, beautiful baby was placed on my chest. It was wonderful. My other babies have all been whisked off to the warmer and I had to catch peeks between the nurses. I got to cradle him, kiss him, examine him up close. Absolutely magical.

Meanwhile my leg muscles were cramping up from the awesome position they had been in. My jaw was chattering away, although I didn't feel cold. My appetite kicked in like a monster too. It was so great to get the placenta out and the warm blankets on.

Jayson weighed in at 8 lbs. 15 oz., 21 inches long.

He stayed in the room with me. They even came to my room to bath the baby and slick back his wavy hair. The hospital t-shirt was a tiny fit. It kept popping up to his chest. Jayson's little hands and feet were quite purple for a while, but the smoothest, softest things ever. His eyelids and stayed red for hours after they put that goop in his eyes - it irritated his skin. He started scratching at his face with his long nails. Even though he was born 2 weeks before his due date, Jayson's assessment considered him a 40 weeker.

It has been SO wonderful to have him here. So there it is - our baby story.