I have been meaning to write this for a while now but am happy to share it when our sweet girl is sleeping soundly in her sling nuzzled against my chest.
At one of our final week check ups our doctor, whom we trust and adore, suggested that we have an induction. At first, I didn’t know what to think. But he explained that it was our choice but that research suggested it would not pose any threat to us or our baby. Now, I never planned on wanting that but the more we talked about it the more it seemed like a good idea. It allowed us to confirm we could do it with our doctor at the hospital I strongly preferred. And, it allowed me to stop working knowing that my due date was only 2 weeks away, instead of say 4 weeks which would not feel as justifiable in my mind (to myself, no one else would have said boo.) I also was pretty sure she might come before that. Spoiler–She didn’t, but I thought she was going to!
So, after deliberation I was glad to have it on the books, for March 14th. I stopped working March 1st and enjoyed 2 glorious weeks of sleep, catching up with friends and family and most importantly mentally preparing for labor and the birth of our child.
The days passed, and finally March 13th arrived. My husband and I enjoyed one delicious pasta dinner and (gasp) a glass of red wine. It was a bittersweet ‘final date’ and we just loved each other so much. As some might remember, March 14th was due to be an incredible blizzard, and blizzard it was. We drove to the hospital in the darkness of 5:30 AM, my husband sipping his coffee and the highways covered in snow already. Our dog safely away at the in laws.
The hospital was very calm, I had been there for a million classes so it felt very usual to me. They got us set up in a room, I changed into a gown, and a series of sweet interns came in to ask us questions. Our nurse was awesome and made sure we were good to go, and let me know I was already 4cm. A resident broke my water with basically a knitting needle. I was scared of said needle but it was entirely painless. Then a bit after that we started a low dose of pitocin and watched the snow fall and listened to jazz. After continuing to up the pitocin the contractions became uncomfortable around 2 but our nurse wanted us to go as long as we could without the epidural which mightve slowed things down. She suggested a pain relief where I could still feel the contractions but it would feel like 2 glasses of wine. I was like, did someone say wine? Where do I sign? However, I am not sure what her definition of 2 glasses of wine is but it was pretty much like I had been shot with a tranquilizer dart where I woke up to the contractions.
My loving husband sat by my side and every time I woke up we visualized hiking up a mountain with our dog baloo. He described the flowers, or the leaves and the dog running ahead. Then we would come down the mountain as the pain subsided and I would konk out again.
Made it to 7cm where I wanted the epidural. The anesthetist was so awesome, her name was Mo, but they still had to insert the needle 4 times. 4!!! The nurse held me as I recited the Lord’s prayer in her face each time (sorry if I had dragon breath…) Sweet relief with the epidural.
By 8PM I was 10cm and the dr asked me to push. Then he would leave. Every 15 minutes the nurse helped me change position. My husband on one foot and her on the other. there was lots of bodily fluid and I will leave it at that. We are all human after all!
I pushed and pushed and my husband said he could see her head, and it had hair and I pushed some more. After 2 hours the nurse said she was turning down the epidural so I could feel the contractions more to push. And feel them I did! She turned it off completely and slowly it wore off, and off.
I pushed for 2 more hours, a little over 4 hours before I felt I physically could not push anymore. I was squatting and falling over and the vomiting, did I mention that? Poor husband, he was a champ but he kept encouraging me. I really wanted to deliver vaginally but something was holding us back. The nurse got the dr. He came in and tried to manually turn or remove her with HIS GIANT HAND. Still no baby. He suggested a c section to which I gladly agreed.
I felt so at peace, the medicine began again, I could rest for a moment. My husband joined me in the OR, holding one hand and whispering to me, while Mo held the other and explained the sensations I would get. My teeth chattered (understatement) from the medicine, but they put a warm blanket over my chest and I was happy.
At 12:21 on March 15th, Mona Rose was born. The Dr. removed her and realized the chord had been wrapped twice around her neck which might explain the difficulty to progress down. She reached up and grabbed his scissors first thing and wailed. She was brought to me and I said I love you. A tear fell from my husband’s eye.
Next thing I know I wake up in the hallway and she is nursing. We stayed at the hospital for 4 days and the team was amazing there. We had a double room for both of us to sleep in and watch the mountains and the snow melt.
Three weeks today and I am recovering and loving this baby so much. I cannot truly describe the joy I have to know the meaning of this blog’s title is forever changed.
The journey begins.