Monday, May 14, 2012

A Birth Story

It is with great pleasure that I am able to announce the arrival of our sweet little man!  Lincoln Xavier entered our world at 12:51 pm on Wednesday March 7th, and he took my breath away.

Looking back, my pregnancy seemed to go incredibly fast!  Even with all the added stress and worry that only a baby loss momma can understand.  Especially considering the fact that I do not believe we will have any more children... I will never be pregnant again.  Seems so odd to say.

So, with out further ado.... The story of Lincoln's birth:


The night before...
We decided to go out to eat, one last time, as a family of 3.  I had been craving a steak for days and my doctor had told me to be sure to eat a GOOD meal to store up some energy for the big day.  Steak, potatoes, salad, white cheddar bisquits...Yum!  We returned home shortly before 9 and I rechecked our bags to insure that we had everything we needed, hopped in the shower with my little girl and sent her off to bed with her Great Grandmother, who had come to spend the night so that Liliana wouldn't have to wake up at 4 am.  Induction was scheduled for 5.  I tried to sleep, but my nerves got the best of me...not too mention the constant urge to pee.  My alarm went off at 4 am, but I was already awake.  Time to get the show on the road!
one of the last belly pics


As I was sitting in the car waiting for Daddy to join me I looked up and was greeted by the sight of the full moon.  My sweet Sebastion was shining his light down on me.
 We arrive at the hospital  at 4:59 am, having to enter through the emergency room as the main entrance doors are locked until 5:30.  I walked down several hallways, diaper bag in tow (daddy had stayed behind to get in one final smoke before entering)  to the elevator... up to the third floor, ring the buzzer to be let in.. "Can I help you?" says the electronic voice from the box on the wall ... "I'm here to be induced"  I say, and then it hits me...the last time I said those words.  My sweet Sebastion.  "Come on in" the voice replies.
I am greeted by the nurse at the nurses station who politely guides me to room 327.  Really?!  Out of all my visits to the birthing center... a room I had NEVER been in before!!  I had been convinced walking in that I would be shacking up in 325, the room full of so many memories, good and bad.  The room where both of my previous children had been born.  BUT...327!  A clean slate!  I'll take it!  (not as if I had a choice)
I walked in, sat my bags down, kicked off my shoes, and headed for the bed.  A few minutes passed by before Daddy joined me, being just as surprised as myself that we were in a 'new' room.  After changing into the ever so wonderful hospital gown, the nurse went over paper work with me for what seemed like the next hour.  Next step, IV.  This took several rather uncomfortable pokes, and actually hurt for most of the time it was in the top of my hand, but once it was in, the induction could officially begin!
The view from my bed.
At this point I was checked to see how much progress I had made on my own...still 2 cm.  No progress.  My parents arrived around 630 am, ready to stay for the long haul. My dad came in, said his hellos and then headed for the waiting area... hospital rooms and all that are involved within them, are so NOT his thing. About every 30 minutes or so a nurse would come in and turn up the levels of pitocin.  At about 8am I made my final trip to the bathroom with a baby bump.
swollen, but rainbow ready toes:)


8:30 am, my doctor comes in to see me.  He sits down at the end of the bed to check my cervix and ask how I'm doing, if I decided whether or not to get the epidural, and states that he is likely going to wait awhile to break my water so we can see how I progress on the pitocin.  I was still at 2cm and the baby's head was still not engaged.  With out informing me of what he was doing he motioned to the nurse to go ahead and get the 'needle' to break my bag of waters.  I knew what was happening even though I had never had it done before.  I few pokes and then a HUGE gush.  The doctor looks surprised and says "OH! Did I do that?!  I'm sorry... hehe."  And then he had to jump off the bed so that he didn't get soaked.
Daddy napping on the pull out bed.

After the water was broken the contractions starting coming on a lot stronger.  At around 9 or 930 I asked the nurse if I could get up to go to the bathroom, she had to check me first... I had progressed to about 3 cm, but the baby's head was still not engaged... yep. Bedridden. I was bummed.  I really had wanted to be able to get up and walk around throughout my labor to help it along.  I did not get that option with my first labor because my water broke about 6 hours before contractions started, and the babies head was not engaged...apparently the umbilical cord could slip out before the babies head and cause major complications.  So, once again, I was confined to the bed, which also meant...bed pan.  Ugh.


Even though my contractions were coming on strong and getting closer together, the monitor was having a hard time picking them up.  The nurses would come in every 5 to 10 minutes and readjust the monitor on my belly, to no avail.   So at around 11ish, the decision was made to insert an internal monitor.  I had no idea such a thing existed, but my mom did...apparently my aunt had to have the same thing when she was in labor for my cousin.  The nurse warned me that it may feel a bit 'uncomfortable'.  The first nurse tried for several minutes to insert the probe past the babies head but was unsuccessful.  The second nurse took a few tries as well before she was able to get it into place...the failed attempts caused me to start bleeding, which really freaked my mom out.  Almost instantly, the contracts were now being recorded, and they were up in the 80s and 90s...just a couple of minutes apart... the pitocin level was increased once more.

At this point, Derek decided it was time to start massing my hands and feet in an attempt to progress the labor faster.  He worked on my hands for a few minutes first, and then began working on my feet...the contractions definitely became more intense as he worked.  At around noon the pain was incredibly intense, so I asked for the nurse to check my progress.    She stated that I was at about 5 cm and really thin, then asked if I had decided on the epidural.  All I could think was if I am in this much pain, and only half way there, then YES!  Put the order in!  When she had checked my cervix, I began to bleed a lot.  My mom was really uncomfortable with being in the room for the epidural, so she decided she she would go give my dad an update in the waiting room and sit with him for awhile, after all, I WAS only at 5 centimeters.  Derek was still intently working away on my feet.  As the contractions were coming less than 2 minutes apart and lasting for nearly a minute at a time, I kicked his hands away.  No more massage!  Hold my hand...NOW!

A few minutes and a few contractions later the nurse checked me again, this time, I was at 8!  The anesthesiologist was on his way to administer the epidural, and the nurse whispered to me, 'don't tell anyone that you are at 8, because 8 is too far for an epidural'.  Derek sent my mom a text telling her that I wanted her back in the room. I knew it wasn't going to happen.  I needed to push...the urge was overbearing. She could see the discomfort on my face and asked, you need to push, don't you?  YES!  She checked me again, and I was at 10!  It was go time.  The anesthesiologist knocked on my door and the nurse just shook her head...it was too late.  I had gone from 5 to 10 centimeters in literally under 10 minutes.  The next thing I know, the nurses were putting on their gowns, preparing the tools, and turning on the BRIGHT overhead lights.  At this point, my mom finally reappeared in the room with a look of disbelief on her face... Derek informed her that I was at 10 and that it was time to push. "Where is Dr. Sullivan?" she asked.  He was in route from his office, which is only a short walk away as it is in a building behind the hospital. 

Things get a little blurry from here... I remember Doc showing up, taking on look at me and saying "I see you decided against the epidural!  You are a brave woman, and you can do this....now push."  At some point, my mom had taken my hand, and Derek took his place right next to the doctor.  With each contraction, the babies heart rate would drop.  It had been doing so for about an hour, but not low enough to insist on a c-section.  I could feel the doctor attempting to stretch my skin with massaging techniques...it wasn't working.  He looked at Derek and said "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to cut her."  (A week prior we had a discussion about how I did not want an episiotomy unless absolutely necessary.  With my first child, the on call doctor didn't even ask, he just walked in,saw that I had had an epidural, picked up the scalpel, and cut...Instant level 3 episiotomy.  Derek nearly punched him in the face, as it had been in my birth plan that I would prefer to tear.)  Derek took one look at was happening and said...'you do what you gotta do!' 

A few more  pushes and the doc informs me that the baby has black hair..."keep it up, your doing great!"  "Now get mad!!  PUSH with all your might, you are almost there"... I let out a loud groan, and could feel the baby push through... Silence.

The cord had been wrapped around his neck.  Nearly 20 seconds went by before I heard him cry...but it felt like 10 years.    I had asked the doctor to delay the cord cutting, not realizing that the cord wouldn't allow enough length for me to bring him to my chest....so for a few minutes all I could do was hold him on my belly, when I wanted to do was kiss his little forehead!

                                              



cord cutting...finally!
first hug

first meal...he latched on right away.
I had chosen to do kangaroo care, or skin to skin contact...we were given nearly an hour to bond, mother and son,  before daddy had his first chance to hold his boy, and before they took his measurements.

7 pounds... 21 inches.
The day may have had it's ups and downs...but it was perfect in every way... our little boy was alive, kicking and screaming...