My due date was Saturday, April 9th, 2011 -- no doubt about it, based on the exact science of embryo adoption/transfers. My 38 week appointment two Fridays before was delayed because my doctor had an emergency surgery to do, so I was pushed to the following Monday. My 39 week appointment was pushed back another day because my doctor was moving his office and wanted a day to get into the swing of things, so I went in the Tuesday before my due date for my 39 week check-up. I knew we'd talk about a "plan of action", so the hubby came with me to this appointment because I wanted him to be able to ask any questions he might have to the doctor, rather than asking me (who would not know the answer for the doc's reasoning).
After checking me and determining that NOTHING had changed from the previous week (dilated a fingertip, starting to soften), I was frustrated. I had not felt any contractions - even "practice" ones - but I still felt like I DESERVED some progress! I was 39 1/2 weeks along, for crying out loud! The doctor said he'd like to call Labor and Delivery to see if they had a bed available for me in the next few days so he could start me on Cervidil, which should soften my cervix and get things rolling. The Cervidil stays in for 12 hours, then they would check me and determine if 1) another round was necessary, 2) they'd send me home and try again in a few days or 3) it was a success and they'd start me on Pitocin to get my contractions going. Our other option was to continue waiting for me to go naturally, but he said he would want to do a stress test to make sure the baby was okay with that. At that point, I looked at Lou and declared, "I'm DONE", giving him an opportunity to voice his opinion. After asking several questions to the doctor to make sure this is what was safest and best for the baby and I, he agreed. L&D was called and we were told they would call us sometime the next afternoon (Wednesday), "after 3pm...but it could be as late as 10pm or later". It was nice to know what was going to happen so we could make plans for Josh, even if we had a huge time frame.
We went home and I finished packing my hospital bag and Josh's overnight bag. Family and friends were informed of the news and a plan was made for Josh. The next morning was long...yet SO fast. Lou came home from work after lunchtime to wait for the call and was working downstairs. We decided to keep Josh at home and in his normal routine for as long as we could before we completely turned his life upside down, so while he was napping in his bed, I was resting on the couch, trying not to eat us out of house and home because I'd been STARVING all day, while wondering when the phone was going to ring. At 4:30pm, I got the call and was finally able to Skype to my husband the words I'd been dreaming of saying for 8 1/2 years..."It's time." His reply? "FOR REAL - ok!"
He rushed upstairs, we got Josh up and going, loaded up the car and drove to Lou's sister's house to drop off our only child. (He'd later be taken to Lou's brother's house, where he'd stay until the baby and I came home from the hospital.) After sitting in traffic, finding a place to park and walking in, we finally arrived on the L&D floor at 5:30pm. They directed me to the appropriate desk and I had a "pregnancy brain" moment, not sure what I was supposed to say. I stumbled out the words, "I got a call an hour ago to come in...I'm here for...Cervadil...??" and the nurse said, "Oh, to be induced?". Relieved for some intelligent words, I laughed and said "YES. That's it."
They brought me back to L&D room #27 (we think?), had me put on my gown, and started with the endless questions while they got my IV started. At 7pm, the resident checked me and I was at a 1. In went the Cervadil, along with my 2 hour no-food restriction. (Had I known about this part, I would've made Lou stop for dinner on our way -- I'd been snacking all afternoon, but nothing was making me feel full enough!) My mom and her husband, Jack, came up to visit about an hour later, which helped distract me until 9pm when I was finally allowed to eat dinner. Lou was nice enough to head down to the cafeteria with Jack before they closed to get me something better than the turkey sandwich L&D offered me. I'm not sure I've ever had a cheeseburger and mashed potatoes taste so good! While they were there, I had a little pain in my abdomen, but just one and it was quick. (I was too focused on the thought of eating to really think much of it!)
I had been sick with a cold for the two weeks prior to this and Lou was starting to come down with the same symptoms. We decided there was no need for him to stay at the hospital with me that night and that I needed him fresh, with a good night's sleep to be at his best for me the next day during labor and delivery, so he went home around 11pm after they gave me some Ambien to help me sleep. Around 2:30am, the nurse was in there checking...something?...and I commented that I think I knew what she meant when she said I may experience some menstrual-like cramping from the Cervidil. She looked at me kind of funny and said, "You've been having contractions all night." "OH..." I thought to myself, "...DUH. So THAT is what a contraction feels like!" I'm not sure if it was the fact that I now knew I was having contractions or the fact that they were getting more intense and closer together, but I woke up several times an hour for the next few hours, eventually realizing I needed to breathe through them. Finally at 5am, I tried to find a distraction. I tried turning on the TV. I tried Facebook/Twitter/email/blog reading. I tried playing games on my phone. By 5:30am, the contractions were getting to be so hard that I was having trouble breathing through them, even when I focused on that sprinkler head in the ceiling. (In our childbirth class, I told Lou that the external focal point definitely did not work for me and that I would not be using one...so it's funny to think of how much time I spent staring at that thing!) Not long after that, I called Lou and told him that I needed him to come up here sooner than our (agreed upon) 7am because I simply could not do this by myself anymore; I needed his help/support.
He got there around 6:45am and by that point, I was beside myself in pain. My contractions were a minute apart and VERY intense...as soon as one ended, the next one would begin. I intended on seeing how far I could make it without an epidural, but I never really got a fair chance because I never had a break from the contractions to "recover" before the next one began. I had previously asked the nurse if I was allowed to take a shower that morning before they started the Pitocin or did anything else. She checked with my doctor, who said once the Cervidil was out, I could. By that point, my contractions were so intense that I knew I would not be able to stand up to shower, if I could even make it down there! At 7am, they took the Cervidil out and checked me...I was at a 3. More contractions and more breathing...and finally I began to beg for the epidural, apologizing to Lou that I just "could not do it". He reassured me that I wasn't disappointing him in the least -- the "no epidural" thought was my deal and it didn't matter to him either way.
My new best friend (the anesthesiologist) came in shortly after that and had me sit up on the side of the bed, holding onto Lou's hands as he sat down directly in front of me. Any touch to my stomach was too much for me, so leaning over nearly sent me through the roof! He instructed me to stay completely still and to let him know when my contraction ended so he could begin. I snapped and told him that there was no end to them, so he said to let him know when one started to taper off. I did so and...let me tell you...I have never felt more pain in those next few minutes than in my entire LIFE, no exaggeration. The combination of the constant contractions with the epidural process nearly sent me through the roof! I had been holding onto Lou's hands and squeezing when I was working through my contractions, but even he commented at the difference in how hard I was squeezing, questioning if I was going to break his hands during that time!
When it was all said and done and started to work, I suddenly started to smile. I was now friendly to my new friend, rather than snapping at him when he asked me a question or requested me to move somehow. We joked around. Lou commented on the strength and frequency of my contractions according to the monitor and I laughed, saying "Oh, really? Hmm. I wouldn't know." (with a drunk-like smile on my face) I was in Heaven.
Next, they were trying to decide if we needed to start the Pitocin. They decided they wanted to break my water, I think to get an internal monitor on the baby because my contractions were not slowing down after the epidural like they'd hoped, though I didn't really realize at the time that there was a little concern. A different resident from the previous night came in to check me and to break my water. I was at a 4, less than 2 hours later, and she expressed that she didn't like "the color" of the fluid, so they were going to keep a close eye on me. I don't know if they portrayed the severity of the situation or if I was just that oblivious, but Lou started to make the calls to a few family and friends..."They just broke her water. She's at a 4. Things are moving along. She'll have this baby today, but no rush to get here quite yet." The resident and nurses were in and out quite often after that. Talks of a c-section began to arise and they gave me an oxygen mask to try to get some more oxygen to the baby. I then began to realize that something abnormal was going on as one of the nurses began talking more about a c-section.
At that point, I began to cry. No. SOB. She gave us a few minutes alone and Lou asked what part of it upset me so much. At that moment, I was mourning a loss. A loss of a dream, in a way. Yes, I had fulfillment in my dream to be pregnant. To feel a baby move inside of me. To experience labor and contractions and the excitement of the whole process. But I wanted the whole package. I wanted to deliver a baby naturally. I wanted to hear her cry and to be put on my chest right away to begin bonding. I wanted to nurse her right away as tears of joy filled my eyes over what had just happened and what my body had just done. I didn't want to be cut open, to miss the whole birth because I was hidden behind some sheet, unable to see my baby girl until someone decided to bring her over to me. I wanted to HOLD her. But those were my selfish feelings that I just needed to process. Obviously, I was going to do whatever was best for her.
The resident came in and declared we needed to do a c-section. The baby's heart rate was not fluctuating like they wanted it to with each contraction; it was staying the same, which was a sign of stress on her. Then they began to notice that her heart rate was dropping with each contraction that I was having. Those two things plus the "I don't like the color of your fluid" equals c-section. Lou expressed that we'd like to talk to my doctor before anything was done. Luckily, he was nearby in surgery, and the resident had been going back and forth talking with him and giving him updates. He came into my room when he was finished, knowing my heart's desires and my thoughts about not wanting a c-section, and just looked right at me and said, "We're done. It's time." At that point, I knew there was no discussion. We needed to get our baby out and safe.
The room was a flurry after that. I was still crying. Hard. Lou called my mom first at 9:37am as they were prepping me (she could hear me crying in the background - sorry to scare you, Mom!), and then he called his mom. For some reason, I was incredibly upset that we had not called my sister-in-law (who had Josh) so he called her too, giving a brief rundown of the situation and telling her if she wants any further updates to call his mom because he was done making calls. My mom left work right away and headed to the hospital. His mom was already in the car, preparing to just come up and wait for something to happen. They gave him scrubs, upped my medication, and wheeled me out the door to the left, immediately turned right, and left into the first operating room. They instructed Lou to sit outside in a chair until they were ready for him. I remember still crying and wiping my eyes as they wheeled me in. I remember thinking, "Wait. I still have a kleenex in my hand. Is that okay?! Is that sanitary?!" and "Wait! I don't have one of those bubbly hats to cover my hair!" No one else seemed to care.
The sheet went up before I even realized it and Lou was finally by my side. I felt a lot of pulling and tugging, but nothing more than that. Lou and I chatted a little while when suddenly we were interrupted by her cry. Our eyes both lit up and we both gasped at the same time, tears starting to flow down my face. I think he said, "Do you hear her?!" After that, he was gone to be by her side. Avery Lynn was born at 10:12am, just 35 minutes after Lou called my mom. It turns out, it all happened so quickly that no one made it in time to be at the hospital for her birth!
The next few hours are very fuzzy for me. They didn't mention what I might be feeling after giving me the extra medication for the surgery, so I was starting to get really scared. I was literally fighting to stay conscious, telling myself, "Sarah. That is your BABY over there. Keep your eyes OPEN and do NOT miss this. You JUST HAD A BABY. FOCUS!" I did a mental check of every fact I knew. They were monitoring my blood pressure. I could hear my heart beat and it sounded like it was keeping a normal, steady beat. ...But I still felt like I was fading and I was so scared about what was happening to me. After a while, I looked around to my right and my left but didn't see anyone, so I called Lou over, telling him I felt like I was about to pass out. He relayed this to the anesthesiologist (who I should've realized was sitting right over my left shoulder) and she said all of my vitals were great and I still had good color, reassuring him/me that everything was just fine. I continued to try to fight it, but finally gave in and closed my eyes for a little while as I listened to her cry, knowing Lou was with her and that she was in good hands. My doctor said something to me over the sheet about a placenta and blood clots and I made a mental note that this was something important that I should remember to ask him about later because I was so confused right then, I had no idea what he was talking about. After they got her wrapped up, Lou brought Avery over to me and I cried. She was still crying as I reached out and cupped her face with my hand, starting to talk to her. I smiled as I realized she began to calm down after my touch and the sound of my voice. She knew me!
Lou held onto her after that and never put her down until it was time for her to go to the nursery. They wheeled me into recovery and we (drowsily) discussed who would come in and when. He desperately wanted me to hold her (as did I), but I was so out of it that I knew I was not capable. My recovery nurse was not helpful in achieving this at all, so he was trying to figure out what to do when my sweet L&D nurse came in to check on me. He expressed this concern to her, so she quickly took action, propping some pillows on my chest as she helped him lay her up there for me. I remember looking at him, telling him to not let go of her. I touched her and realized that her face was about 6 inches away from mine, but things were so blurry for me that I could not even focus on her to see what she looked like.
I'm not sure how long I "held" her there, but we then decided to have our moms come in. My mom held her first, then Lou's mom. As she held her, my mom came over and started talking to me. I don't even know now what we said, but Lou said he remembers it being a turning point for me. (Thanks, mom!) It's true. During that conversation I had with her, I started to become more aware again. I started to snap out of it. I still wasn't quite in my "right mind", but it was getting better; the fog was lifting. The nurses came from the nursery to get Avery and those in the waiting room were encouraged to head upstairs to watch her get checked out and to get her first bath. Lou headed up as well while my nurse "checked" me and then two INCREDIBLE nurses came to take me upstairs. I wish I had had them all along -- they were amazing and hilarious! I don't remember their names but remember one of them saying she had a woman continually INSIST her name was something other than what it really was because she looked like a person she'd once met. Anyway, they loaded up all of my personal items onto the bottom of my bed and we headed to the elevator. (I was quite impressed that even though we left our L&D room in a frenzy, totally unprepared and with various items out of my bag, the only thing we lost in the switch was a bag of cough drops! Well done, whoever it was in L&D that packed up my bag!)
We went up to the 7th floor and rounded the corner to find family and friends huddled in front of the nursery window...Josh, Aunt Jen, Uncle Ben, Taggart, Grandma, Aunt Dee Dee, and Anna from our church! (My mom and Jack left and came back later that afternoon when the crowd died down a bit.) The seas parted as they wheeled me up to the window and I got my first clear glimpse of my beautiful baby girl. Anxious to get my hands on her and to truly meet her, we went on to my room where my new nurse had to go through all of the "welcome" paperwork before Avery could come in. It turns out, those waiting out in the hallway got to see her on her way down to my room! She finally came in - we met - we fell in love - and she nursed for the first time...4 hours after she was born.
Many things did not go as I planned or hoped, but like I said before, God's Hand was guiding us all along the way. When my doctor came the next day to check on me, we asked, "What on earth just happened to us?!" He explained that when they broke my water, it was a "port wine" color, meaning a deep, dark purpley/red -- a.k.a. old blood -- as in not fresh/new blood. While in surgery, he confirmed that the placenta had begun to detach and he had found blood clots (old blood) behind it. A placental abruption can be an extremely serious thing, as it is the source (even oxygen, which is why they tried giving some extra to me) for the baby. It turns out, my rapid contractions were my only symptom of it happening, although I obviously didn't know it at the time. Had we not agreed to be induced earlier that week...had we not been in the hospital that day...had we not gone ahead with the c-section, who knows how long the placenta would have stayed attached. There's no way of telling when it happened or why, but it did, and God took care of both of us.
Eight weeks later, I laugh at myself for thinking I could plan it all out. You'd think by now that I would learn my lesson and stop trying. As badly as I did not want to have a c-section, it doesn't even matter now. I've recovered quite well and, in the scheme of things, realize what a little part it played in my whole experience. No, I didn't deliver her like I had hoped, but this showed me, once again, how God was taking care of us all along the way. Yes, I had to wait for four hours to truly "meet" her, but I got to carry her for nine months and I now get to feed her and stare at her face every single day, knowing that (God and) my body made this beautiful little one. What more can a girl ask for?
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| Momma and her girl |
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