Thanks, but I'm Good

Bring me chocolate and take me shopping.

Made with photojoiner.net

An Event a Decade (or more) in the Making

**Note: I started this a few months ago, but instead of finishing it up I elected to do other things like cleaning or sleeping. 

After a long radio silence I decided today would be a good time to jump back in with this blogging thing. I still have some more stories to tel. Why the break? Well, it’s very difficult to form a string of sentences, let alone a thought when you have a newborn. Yep! She’s here! All these years later, J3 has arrived. And on this anniversary of the transfer – or transferversary if you will – I am going to regal you with the tale of her birth. So without further ado…….

From this...... 

to this →

My official due was August 1, 2018. But as all moms come to find out, that’s usually not reality. I am no exception. At my last appointment on July 23rd, I was dilated to 4 cm. We talked with my doctor and decided to schedule an induction for August 3rd just in case I went passed my due date. Neither her nor I felt comfortable going too far over because of my history.

**Side note: If you ever not want to go into labor early just have your doctor keep telling you that you’ll probably have the baby before the end of the month. She kept saying that and I kept being pregnant. Not that it was bad to stay pregnant, she acted like it was obvious so every twinge became “this is it!” It wasn’t. Until…..

A few times throughout the day on Friday, July 27th, I felt what I thought were more Braxton Hicks. They seemed a little more intense, though. Not painful, but more tightness. So my day went on as usual. By usual, I mean hanging around, watching TV, and trying to prepare things as much as I can. All the while balancing the anxiety teeter totter of impending motherhood and the concern of being pregnant too long that something might go wrong.

I can’t recall when it started, but it was sometime in late evening that I felt an intense cramping. Every so often I would feel another one. I will admit that I wasn’t keeping track and didn’t mention anything to J2 because I wanted one of us to sleep. Then around midnight I decided to take a shower and see if the contractions would get stronger or fade away. Several times during my shower I had to stop to wait for the pain to pass. Does this mean it’s real? I still wasn’t sure. So I got ready for bed and was going to try to rest and try to determine if the contractions were getting closer together. I felt silly because I thought it would be more instinctual. My instinct gene must be faulty. Then around 1:30 am I had a strong, painful contraction followed by a pop and a gush of fluid.

My water broke.

Initiating freak out mode…...

Just breath......

And for a few seconds, I did. I then called out for J2 because he was downstairs in our bedroom. He rushed up as I stood there momentarily in a daze trying to figure out what I needed to do. I elected to put on a bra and t-shirt, just so I didn’t feel completely out of control. My pj bottoms stayed on since they had been doused in once was baby girl’s temporary living environment. Someone just got her eviction notice.

We grabbed the hospital bag and our cell phones and we were out the door. J2 must have been nervous, scared, and excited. How do I know? He sped all the way to the hospital. J2 never speeds that excessively. Once we arrived at the E.R., I was taken up to Labor & Delivery, checked in and escorted to a room. Apparently, I was the fifth woman there that came in with ruptured membranes.

It should be noted that it was a blood full moon with a lunar eclipse. Is that a sign that it’s going to be a crazy night?

The nurse gave me a gown to change into and as I was doing that J2 helped clean me up a bit. I noticed some greenish discharge. It was as I suspected, meconium. Baby’s first poops. It can be concerning if it happens before the baby is born because it could be aspirated. I was hooked up to an IV and fetal monitors. Enter the next issue: every contraction caused baby girl’s heartbeat to plummet. And I was still dilated at a 4. So the first time I saw the doctor (not mine, but the one on call) she alluded to the possibility that I might need a c-section. During all this the contractions were hitting me like a train. No matter how much I tried to breath or J2 massaged my back, I started to feel like the pain was conquering me. To add to that, most of them were doubled up. Meaning I would have a contraction and J2 saw on the monitor that it was easing up – BAM! – right back into one. I couldn’t say how long it was, but according to J2, it was about four hours and I was done. I hadn’t slept since a small nap around 6 pm and I don’t remember when I ate last. I’m nobody’s hero, I tapped out.

I asked nicely though.

Wake that doctor and drug me up. The nurse was really sweet. Totally supported me and said it was a good decision because I was at risk for hemorrhaging and I wouldn’t want hands all up my lady business and have to feel it. Whether it was that much of a concern or just trying to validate my choice, I couldn’t say. All that matters is that they brought in the anesthesiologist. Ten to twenty minutes later, a reprieve from the pain. Yay for drugs! Just in time for the next problem. They didn’t want me to lay on my back so they had me turned to my left side. Except when I did, the fetal monitor kept losing J3’s heartbeat. Each time they had me change sides, the nurses had to readjust the monitor. Finally, the nurses elected to place internal monitors. Yes, that means inside, on the baby’s head. Yay for drugs!

Side note

:My birth plan...........

Somewhere around this time I am dilated to 6 cm. One reason they think I’m not progressing anymore is because baby girl has not dropped all the way. 99 problems, am I right? (Psst, remember how that was a song?) So the next time I saw the doctor, she once again mentioned the likelihood of a c-section. I started to hate her face. No matter how realistic it was, that was the only thing she focused on in the two minutes she spent with us. The nurses on the other hand – wow. These ladies wanted to try what they could to get baby girl to drop. So they turned the bed practically into a chair. This put me in an upright position to let gravity do the work. Now epidurals also work with gravity, which meant occasionally I felt the contractions to some extent. Still no where near the pain before. Bonus to getting the epidural; I finally was able to rest. I enjoyed that.

Have I mentioned – yay for drugs?

Not today, Mr Mackey.

Things are a blur. Hours seem to pass by (well, they did but like I could keep track) and everything is stalled. Until, finally, the nurse checks my again. Holy hell, baby girl has not only dropped, but I am dilated to 10 cm. What does this mean?

It’s go time.

Buuuuuuuut, there’s one more issue. Baby girl is sunny side up. Normal is facing down. The nurses tell me it’s doable, but will take diligence. So I started pushing, but more purposefully than gung-ho. Remember that earlier problem with baby girl’s heart rate slowing with my contractions? Still was happening. Compensating for this, the nurses would have me push for a contraction and then I would rest for one or two or until J3’s heart rate steadied. And so this it how it went for about three hours. Now and again one of the nurses (I had two in the room for most of the pushing time) had to step out and J2 would step in to hold one of my legs. J2 has witnessed things that usually medical personnel are privy. And he didn’t flinch (or pass out). Isn’t it gross how much he loves me? Haha!

As baby girl’s head worked its way under my pelvic bone, her heart rate finally steadied and stayed that way. At long last, the nurse proclaim that J3 was crowning.

Except not like this.

And then said she was going to get the doctor to deliver. I was thinking that they got me this far so they might as well be the ones to cross the finish line. Those ladies did all the work (well, I did some, too) and the doctor gets to be the glory hound. Not in my book. Without the nurses I mostly likely would have had a c-section. I feel a little bad that I can’t remember their names. I’m sure it’s forgivable offense though.

How odd a moment -- a pause in the midst of progression. And there I am: supine feeling the pressure from my daughter’s head – waiting. My thoughts basically consisted of “she needs to come out” and “she needs to be okay.”

Minutes later, we were ready to go – again. I pushed. Once. Twice. Thrice. And she was out. (Give or take a push or two) A cry. One of the best sounds in this world at that moment. An intense sense of relief washed over me hearing that cry. The crushing weight of the anxiety I had been pretending wasn’t plaguing me throughout this pregnancy alleviated. Almost startling in its suddenness. I have compartmentalized many emotions during this journey that I almost had to allow myself to, not be happy, but to feel happy. In the whirlwind this day had been I was briefly numb.

The doctor hustling J2 over to cut the umbilical cord. Then J3 is whisked over to the baby table where she is cleaned up and observed to make sure she didn’t inhale the meconium. Meanwhile, I deliver the placenta and am stitched up. Kind of a yada yada moment.

FINALLY!!!! After 15 years of marriage (about 8 of those years actively dealing with infertility issues with medical professionals) my daughter was placed on my chest.

This.

Joy.

Besides a bruise on her head, she was just fine.

J2 is completely smitten.

Good or bad, I’ve never worked so hard for one specific goal. But she’s an amazing addition to our lives.