It's been over a week since we brought baby Ruby home. Sometimes it feels like we just came home from the hospital yesterday and sometimes it's like the hospital experience was years ago. Having Ruby home has obviously been a major adjustment for all of us, but we are trying to learn what works best and how to function on little sleep.
But, let's revisit the whole shebang, shall we? Labor officially started on Tuesday, November 15th. I woke early to see Noa off to work. I was officially on maternity leave and was feeling pretty uncomfortable and crampy. I knew to expect this kind of annoyance since I was 39 weeks and nearing the end of the pregnancy. We had also been in Seattle the night before, so I attributed the pain to the fact that I probably did too much the night before. Around eight in the morning, the cramping began to travel lower to my abdomen, instead of all over, but the cramping wasn't a consistent, regular occurring pain....one minute, then eight minutes, then six minutes between. I had read that this could happen and that these sort of contractions could last for weeks. I decided to take it easy that morning. So, I made some tea and hunkered down on the couch for some morning TV viewing.
By late morning, I realized that these might actually be real I'm-going-to-have-a-baby-soon contractions. Not only did they seem to start following a pattern, but I noticed that I had to stop what I was doing in order to allow the feeling to pass. I quickly found an app for my iPhone to time them. They were about 5 - 6 minutes apart. I had a doctor's appointment in the afternoon so I wasn't panicking, but decided that I should probably pack our hospital bags, just in case. While I gathered our things, I kept timing the contractions and stopping every so often to let them pass. I called Noa about an hour before my appointment to let him know that I probably wouldn't be driving myself - I didn't want to have to pull over on the highway due to contraction pain. I then called my friend Amy to see if she could come and get me. Next thing I know, she's at my door, schlepping our bags and pillows to her car.
Although I was in fact having real-going-to-have-a-baby contractions, the doctor said that my cervix was barely dilated, although I was 70% effaced. This was a good sign, although not indicative of impending labor. I'm sure he's given the same advice to pregnant patients many, many times: go grab some dinner and take a walk. He'd be around for a few hours and said I could get checked again to see if I've progressed anymore. The process is usually pretty slow going for first time moms, so it looked like we'd be heading home after all. Noa needed to finish up a few things in the office, so I plopped down in a chair and tried to relax. As the minutes ticked on, the contractions began to increase in pain. Soon, I felt nauseous and pulled Noa's trash can near me, just in case. By the time he had returned, I looked at him desperately and said, "I can't go home." There was no way I would be able to tolerate a car ride home, let alone a second one back to the hospital if indeed I was in labor. I felt awful....the pressure was so painful and the nausea was not getting better. Noa walked me to the Labor and Delivery floor, where a nurse immediately got me situated in a triage room.
Turns out, I had progressed a little. I was now at 2 cm and 80% effaced which technically isn't enough to admit someone, but since I had made that much progress in so little time they decided to admit me. At that point, I realized that this would not be an all natural, medication-free birth. I was hurting and hurting bad. When the nurse asked me if I had thought about pain management, I said, "Yes. Yes, I want the drugs!" Soon, I was walked to another room and the nurse immediately began to get an IV going. I've always hated needles and any medical procedures, but at this point I didn't care - I just wanted to get the medicine. After getting some initial pain meds into my system, I tried different things to manage the ongoing contractions: using the labor tub, breathing techniques (I really wasn't great at that), etc. I threw up at one point (apparently the nausea wasn't under control yet). The pain continued to grow in intensity and, knowing I was going to have a long night ahead of me, I asked for the epidural.
I was able to sleep a little after that. The doctor and nurses would come in periodically and check on my progress. I remember waking up at one point and four or five nurses rushed into the room. While they were putting an oxygen mask on me, Noa explained that the baby's heart rate had dropped and they would have to get it back on track, which involved the oxygen, turning me to my side and putting a monitoring device on the baby. Thankfully, her heart rate went back to normal quickly. Later, the contractions seemed to slow so I was given a little pitocin in order to continue progressing.
Noa was so encouraging and helped me by counting out loud. We were a team and we were having a baby. It was somewhat exhilarating. The pain hurt and the pushing was hard, but we would have this baby soon.
Time ticked on and the second hour brought more pushing, but little progress on the baby's part. It's normal to have to push for hours, so I kept pushing. My doctor continued to monitor the baby's progress, but baby girl didn't seem to be in a hurry to enter the world. My doctor was also watching the clock - his work day was "beginning"(he voluntarily stayed that night to manage my labor and delivery) and he had to leave for a large meeting he was in charge of. So, a second doctor took over and I continued to push and deal with the pain. It was getting harder to stay focused, but surely this baby would arrive soon.
By the third hour, I was starting to fade. The contractions were so close together that it was hard for me to tell when one was ending and a new one was beginning. The pressure was so intense and I felt like I would simply burst. I was pushing the right way, but the baby just wasn't progressing down through the birth canal. My spirits were clearly weakening and I was getting frustrated that all my efforts were showing no results. How could it be possible that after 3 hours of pushing she had barely descended down the birth canal? The doctor checked me and mentioned that other interventions may have to take place in order to get this baby out. Tears started to roll of my cheeks and I looked at Noa wearily and said, "I can't do this anymore." My original doctor was paged and both docs discussed the lack of progress and then talked to us about a possibility I hadn't even considered earlier: a c-section. I knew that I wouldn't be able to push much longer and the doctors didn't think I'd make much progress even if I did spend the next hour pushing, so the decision was made to go ahead with the c-section.
Even though I agreed to it, I burst into tears. I was in such pain, I was tired, and now my baby was going to enter the world in a way that I never even considered. I had always imagined the day when I'd deliver my baby girl and she would be placed on my stomach, where I would meet her for the first time. I felt like a failure. I couldn't even deliver my own baby. Noa and my doctor assured me that it wasn't due to any fault of mine. The baby may simply have had trouble maneuvering the birth canal or I could have a small pelvic bone, making it too small for her to fit through. What was important was that at the end of this, a healthy baby is born. That helped me calm down a little, as did the drugs that were being pumped into my system to help with the pain.
I was finally comfortable (not feeling the contractions anymore) and in the hands of the nurse anesthetist, who was administering the medicine through the epidural and prepping me for the procedure. Noa was putting on scrubs, the nurses were getting all my wires and tubes together, and soon I was getting wheeled out of the room. In retrospect I'd say this was the scariest moment for me. Noa wasn't allowed to go into the operating room with me initially because everything needed to be set up and situated before he could come in. There were probably eight doctors, nurses, and corpsmen in the room, all wearing masks and scrubs. Although I was surrounded my capable, friendly people, I felt so alone and afraid. I also remember being freezing. I was shivering on the table as they hooked me up to monitors and secured my arms. Thankfully, the nurse anesthetist came to my rescue and put this inflatable bag over me that was filled with warm air. It helped.
Soon enough, Noa was brought in and sat on a stool by my head. I knew they had started the c-section because I could feel light pressure (which is normal). Noa peered over the draped sheet a couple of times, but decided against watching (although he assists with c-sections for his job, he told me, "it's different when it's your wife"). Next thing I know, there was much commotion on the other side of the drape. Noa peered over again and saw her. He saw our little girl for the first time ever (and thankfully snapped a pic). "It's a girl! She's beautiful! Congratulations!" Everyone seemed excited, especially Noa, who told me, "She's so beautiful. She's so amazing. She's so little!" And that's when I heard her cry. A quick, sharp cry that made everything so real. Tears immediately filled my eyes and all I could do was look at Noa and smile. Our little girl was here.
