I told her not to, but she did it anyway. My first born turned 4 on Friday.
The day itself was not unlike the day she was born, which got me incredibly nostalgic and sentimental. Unseasonably warm for a mid-February day, I had no idea what was to come when I woke up and got ready for my day on February 17, 2013. At 39 weeks pregnant, I had convinced myself that my babe was going to have to be forcibly evicted in order to make her grand debut. Holy moly, was I wrong!
I am a petit 5'1" (and 3/4.... on a good day 😉) and have a very narrow frame. Let's just put it this was, I will never ever ever have a thigh gap because my hips are as narrow as can be. Sooo, my doctor recommended I schedule an induction to start the evening of February 18th so I could have my baby on her due date of February 19th. I had been having more than my fair share of false labor over the course of the last 2 weeks but I was terrified of being "that woman" who went to the hospital over and over just to be sent home. So I never went and was quite sure I would have to be induced.
With that in mind, Sunday morning, the 17th, I got up leisurely, got my large and in charge self showered, threw on some flip flops and dressed in one of the 2 shirts that still fit me and headed out to join some friends at a jewelry party. While there, I had consistent, what I thought were false labor contractions but I was distracted by the party and wasn't keeping track of how often they were coming or how long they lasted. And while they were slightly painful, they were nothing compared to what I was expecting real labor to feel like and so I passed them off as false labor. Also, still adamant that I was going to have to be induced the next night, so this of course wasn't "it". (Later, everyone would tell me how they kept thinking how terrible I looked while at the party... thanks)
Anyway, after the party, I stopped at a Target on my way home to pick up a few last minute things for my induction the next day: magazines (I had been told my first time labor would last for.ever), a water bottle and of course some candy. I stood in line to check out and I will never forget the feeling of the little "pop" down by my pantyline. It felt like I had been filling up a water balloon to the point where it pops and breaks. I felt water dripping down my leg and puddling by feet 😳 I remember thinking "oh my God! Did my water just break?! Oh my God, my water just broke!"
Pretty sure my eyes were as wide as they have ever been as I turned, put my things down and rushed past the people standing behind me... desperately trying not to make eye contact. I got in my car and started the drive home to get my husband. And the contractions started coming. FAST.
I called my husband. No answer. Voicemail.
I called my parents's home phone. No answer. Voicemail.
I called my mom's cell phone. No answer. Voicemail.
I called my doctor. I think my water broke. There was a giant gush of water. Should I come in? I heard it can take a while. Yes, I'm strep B positive. IV antibiotics are needed asap? Ok, I need to get to the hospital as soon as I can.
Finally, I get a hold of my husband and tell him to grab my bad and meet me at the door. Call everyone else and let them know I'm in labor.
I hit a red light. Massive contraction. Oh. My. God. TURN GREEN YOU #*^%$@@& LIGHT!!!!!!
I pulled up to my house, hubby jumped in the driver seat and we took off. I think he hit EVERY bump in the road. While I was contracting. More expletives.
"Time the contractions, Nick."
5 minutes apart.
4 minutes apart.
Why does a 15 minute drive feel like a 5 hour drive?!?
We pulled up to the hospital and he dropped me off at the ER entrance (this was before hey had the maternity entrance). I walk inside and explain I'm in labor, my water broke and I preregistered. They ask me to fill out just a couple more forms and Nick walks in. He has to finish filling out the form because I'm having another contraction. A big one and lean against a pillar... all while continuing to leak all over the floor. I scribble my name as a signature. I don't care it looks nothing like my regular signature.
They call for a wheel chair to come get me and I notice there is another pregnant woman in the waiting room where they have women wait who are not in active labor. She's looking at me with a terrified look on her face. Ugh.
They wheel me up to the labor a delivery department. It feels like it takes forever and I forget everything I was told about breathing through contractions. Instead, I'm gritting my teeth and holding my breath at each contraction. Oh yes, they were most certainly painful, but I couldn't be that far along because this wasn't completely unbearable like I was told it would be.
I'm still in pretty good spirits in between contractions, mostly excited and chatting with my husband. I'm in the hospital gown and he doctor comes own to check my progress. 7 cm DILATED! What?!?
"You're in transition so if you want an epidural, we should probably do it now"
"Give me the epidural."
The anesthesiologist comes into the room, explains what's going to happen and has me scribble my name again.
Make your back into a "C".
Hunch your shoulders a little more.
Don't move.
Yeah ok. While I'm massively contracting, don't move. 🙄
The nurse reminds me to breath through my contractions as she holds my shoulders.
Nick tells me I'm doing a great job.
"I KNOW I'M DOING A GREAT JOB! I DON'T NEED YOU TO TELL ME THAT "
The anesthesiologist gives me several local anesthetic shots, little bee sting pricks.
Then he goes to town with the big needle and I feel electricity shoot down the right side of my body. I wince in pain and the anesthesiologist explains that shouldn't happen and needs to try again. A second time he inserts the needle. Zingers again.
3rd time's a charm and I start to go numb from the waist down. The contractions ease and I'm a happy preggers! When I finally catch my breath the doctor mentions hat it's been 21 years since it has taken him more than one try to get and epidural in (glad I could be the one to break his streak) and that I have an "athletic back" aka rotational scoliosis and he actually has to insert the needle several inches to the left of my vertebrae. That was fun. But now I could snack on ice chips! 😒
Things moved pretty quickly from there. I dilated all the way to 10 within a couple hours, fully effaced and my contractions would normally prompt pushing. But my baby still wasn't engaged and was at -2. My contractions were strong and basically on top of each other at that point . Every time I would get a big strong contraction, I would watch the number on the monitor drop, the beeps slow and my baby's heart rate plummet. And since the contractions were so close together , her little heart rate was unable to rebound.
The second time it happened, my doctor came in, explained that my baby was in distress, we needed to her out NOW and I needed an emergency C Section.
As soon as he spoke the words, my room both emptied and filled. My family was immediate ushered out and about 10 nurses and doctors rushed in.
First thing's first, we had to stop the contractions, so IV meds administered. Then surgery prep. Then a spinal morphine (glad I was already numb rode that!) and off we went. Nick was gone getting dressed up for surgery and I was alone with 4 doctors and a handful of nurses doing their thing. I think I was in complete shock and didn't say a word as they worked to get my baby out safely. I started to shake uncontrollably and my vitals weren't being monitored appropriately so they moved the blood pressure cuff to my ankle.
Nick was ushered in as they lifted the drape to hide the surgery from my view. My teeth chattered and I couldn't lay still. The anesthesiologist reassured me that everything was going great and it wasn't long before I felt pulling and tugging on my abdomen. I heard my OB say " oh, she's small!!" And held up a tiny, screaming baby. She was out and she was safe. I don't cry much but I felt tears spring to my eyes and remember thinking "oh wow! She's so pretty! I didn't think newborns were supposed to be pretty but SHE IS!!"
5lbs 0oz. 19 inches. Teeny. But full term and healthy!
I held her in my arms and couldn't believe I had a baby. I had a baby. Whoa.
Then I just felt exhaustion descend on me. They took my beautiful baby away and my husband with her to do the fun stuff like baths and shampoo. I laid there trying not to fall asleep. I didn't care anymore. She was here and she was safe.
When they finished sewing me up, they wheeled me to recovery where I dozed off and on until they wheeled my pretty baby in. I just stared at her for what felt like eternity. Just us.
I was taken back to my hospital room where I would spend the next 4 days, I saw my parents. They had waited to make sure they saw me after my surgery before leaving. It was after midnight now and they each gave me a kiss on the forehead and headed home for true night.
The next few days were a blur of pain and ecstasy. Immediately after being parked in my hospital room, the nurse came in to give me a "massage". Fellow C Section mommas know what I'm talking about. The massage to help your uterus return to its normal size and helps to reduce the risk of bleeding. Well let me tell you, having someone forcibly apply pressure to the EXACT location where you just had major, invasive abdominal surgery?! I screamed like someone was poking me with a hot iron. Which is what it felt like.
But once that was over, I lived in the afterglow of my first experience with newborn snuggles paired with narcotic bliss. It still feels like a dream, but I will never forget how hard I fell for my baby girl, my Ryan Elizabeth, that day. It was the start of something amazing, a bond like no other and one I cannot easily put into words. I love this little girl more than I ever imagine possible for a single living being. But she has my heart. And she always will.
Happy birthday, sweet Ryan! I love you to the moon and back!
~trl~
