Monday, June 16, 2014

The Delivery aka “The Fun Has Arrived”

Once upon a time I had my baby and here is how.  Saturday, June 14th was always going to be a unique day; my best friend Tarah was coming home from her mission in Brazil. Even though I wouldn’t be able to see her that day, I was still going to be able to talk to her on the phone, a habit I had been denied for the last 18 months.  She wasn’t supposed to get into LAX till the afternoon so I was I was pleasantly surprised when I got a phone call early that morning from her. She had purchased a calling card and called me on her layover in Georgia. She wanted to know if I had the baby yet and was excited to hear I hadn’t. I was too, although, we were excited for different reasons: she was excited because it meant we got to talk one last time as the same old friends, and I was excited because it meant I didn’t go through this life changing event without her. We both decided the baby was waiting to come until she came back home.

Side note: It was interesting, because I thought after 18 months of not talking to her on the phone it would feel weird or I would have this huge emotional reaction, but I didn’t and neither did she. 

The rest of the day was pretty normal. I had an induction date scheduled for the following night at 8 p.m. so I was trying to get as much done as possible before then. I was due June 6th/7th and when the baby didn’t come  I was actually OK with it. In some ways I wanted to have the baby out so I could see him, and so we could move, but in other ways, I wasn’t exactly rushing to the idea of childbirth. I went for a doctor’s appointment on Monday, June 9th and that was when the doctor scheduled an induction date for that Sunday, June 15th. Going in on the 15th meant the baby probably wouldn’t be born until the 16th and I was a little disappointed because the 15th was Father’s Day. I thought the baby coming on Father’s Day would be the perfect gift. However, I was grateful that the doctor scheduled my induction date for the 15th because she had told me over and over again that her office did not give inductions until the mother was 14 days past due, which meant June 20th at the earliest.  As soon as I had the induction scheduled, I had in my mind that the baby wasn’t coming until then so I would have plenty of time to do what I needed to before he came. That is why that Saturday, the day before I was supposed to go in to the hospital, I was running around trying to get last minute things done.

I had just come back up from carrying a large chair down to the basement and was packing up our bookshelf when my water broke at 6:30 p.m. I was a little confused; I wasn’t sure if it had broken or if I had lost bladder control like many pregnant women do and accidentally wet themselves. I called my friend, Heidi, who used to be a labor and delivery nurse, and she came over to check if my water had broken. She said she thought it had but couldn’t say for sure. She suggested we go in to the hospital. I was torn because I know so many first time moms go in thinking they are in labor when they aren’t, and I didn’t want to look dumb doing that. Heidi said that with an induction scheduled for the next night, they would probably keep me anyway. I called the on call doctor, told her my situation, and she told me to come in. It was settled, we were going in.  

I wasn’t in pain or anything so we took our time. Jeff showered and ate while I finished packing my hospital bag. It was mostly packed but I guess I wanted to review it. I hadn’t eaten yet and heard that you don’t get to eat while in labor so I decided to hurry up and eat a quick dinner. Heidi suggested that if I was going to eat, to eat something light. I can’t remember what I had, but after I was done eating I was still hungry. Earlier that week I had been craving a Dairy Queen blizzard and never really got rid of that craving. I asked Jeff if we could go to Dairy Queen and he was more than happy to oblige (I mean he would have to get one too since we were there and all). We left the house with the hospital bag and headed towards Dairy Queen. I wanted a Georgia Mud Slide blizzard but I am not sure if I got that flavor or got something else once I saw what other people had, which is very likely. (I might have gotten a strawberry cheesequake?) Whatever the flavor was, I got a mini size to be safe.  I used a gift card from my baby shower that my friends Jen and Cassie had given me. Thanks ladies! With blizzards in tow, we headed to the hospital.

Leaving for the hospital.


Last childless family photo, well, sort of. 

A little detour....
The hospital, Lankenu, was only a few miles away so we got there around 8 p.m. Luckily I had a piece of paper with instructions on it to tell me what to do when I got there because I could never remember. When I got to the front desk, they wanted to know if I needed a wheel chair. I said no because I still wasn’t having any pain. We went up to the maternity unit and I had to fill out a ton of paperwork. I was grateful I was not in pain because otherwise I would have never been able to fill out all that paperwork! I asked the nurse how women who were actually in labor pain were able to fill out the forms and she said that the women just do. I’ll take their word for it and hope the next time I give birth I am not in pain when they ask me to fill out all of the paperwork. That, or somehow have the papers filled out ahead of time!

The nurses asked me if I was having contractions; I said I didn’t know because I didn’t. I wasn’t in any pain and just the week before was having contractions when I didn’t know I was. When I went in to get my stress test, the nurse asked me if I was having any contractions. I told her no. She pointed to the machine and said that I was actually having a contraction right then. I had heard contractions felt this way or that, but it turns out mine never felt that way. I just always thought I was hungry. So, I was the wrong person to be asking if I was having contractions. Hook me up to a machine and let it tell you. Towards the end of the pregnancy when people asked me if I was having contractions and I answered, “I don’t know”, they always said, “Oh, trust me, you’ll know!” Uh, wrong. 


Just getting settled in.


Hooray for ice chips!

Just missing a baby in it is all....

The first nurse who checked me in was super sweet and I was a little disappointed to learn she would was only getting me settled in. But, I didn’t need to be disappointed because my nurse was just as kind and gentle. I am sad to say I can’t remember her name. Kate? Jeff says at one time I called her “nurse” but I so did not! I knew her name… whatever it was. She was a mother of two, had brown hair, was petite, and very personable. We got to know each other over the next 11 hours since her shift had just started at 7 p.m.

The details of the next bit may get muddled  which is OK. I had a hard time bonding with Tyler at first and Jeff helped me realize that it was probably due to the nature of his birth. For me, as probably with most first time moms, it was very traumatic. Well, traumatic sounds so dramatic, but it was extremely difficult for me.  

When I got to the hospital I was at a 2 or a 3 cm and they said the baby was very low. Everyone, including my friend Heidi, expected the baby to be a few pushes away once I got started. Eventually the pain did start kicking in. I knew I wanted an epidural but I was dumb with it. I waited longer than I should have to get it. I didn’t want the nurses to think I was being a wimp so I stuck it out longer than I should have. I wish I would have taken my friend Sally’s advice; Sally said to get the epidural quickly so you can sleep and be well rested for when you have to push. My father-in-law had also told me to try to rest as much as possible. But did I listen? No. I tried to be “tough.” Dumb.

Throughout the evening I kept saying to the nurse, “I want to get an epidural but I don’t want to be a baby…” I really wish she would have just asked, “Do you want it now?” I would have said yes. Instead she would just smile and say, “Well just let me know when you want one.”  Jeff and I watched the World Cup for a while until I finally decided to let my pride go and get the epidural. I got the shot around 3 a.m.
Goodness gracious was that ridiculous. The thing that has always freaked me out the most about giving birth has been the epidural.  I always knew I would want one, but the idea of a huge needle going into my back scared the heck out of me!  Still does. Most of my friends always said, “When it’s time for the epidural, you’ll be in so much pain you won’t even care, you’ll be so grateful for it.” Well, maybe I didn’t wait for the pain to get big enough for me not to care, because let me tell you, I did care! In all honesty, I know the reason I had such a hard time with it was because I had worked it up in my mind. When I go to get regular shots I have to tell myself it is OK and then it is, but I had already decided how terrible the epidural was going to be and so it was.

The anesthesiologist was an older, quiet man. He told me to hunch over, hug a pillow, and relax. But of course I couldn’t relax, I had dreaded this moment for 25 years! And because I could not relax, he could not get the needle in. He said I was too tense and kept telling me to relax. Relaxing was never going to be an option for me. He told me the first shot would be a shot to numb me and would feel like a bee sting, which it did. After a few “bee stings” I asked him if the epidural was in. He informed me it was just the numbing shot(s) and he had to keep on trying because my tense body did not allow him to put the needle in properly.  After he tried a few times and could not get it in, I just started crying. Well, actually, I was probably crying before he even started.  And, as I was crying my nose began to bleed. Perfect, I was hoping for that. I got nosebleeds my whole pregnancy. They were terrible. They were thick, clumpy, tasted nasty (like metal), and lasted for a decent amount of time.

So there I was, tired, scared, hugging a pillow, tears and snot running down my face, and having a nosebleed all over the pillow and nurse’s jacket. I kept apologizing to her. She was so kind about it though, she just kept saying it didn’t matter. She said she would take it off and then wash it when she got home. The fact that she was willing take it off was kind because all night she had been saying how cold she was! I guess I must have been pretty dramatic because at one point she asked me if I was sure I wanted an epidural.  I said yes and she said, “Then we were going to have to do this.” When he kept trying to get the needle in and I was freaking out I asked, “Am I being a baby?” He didn’t say a word. I took that as a yes. Thankfully, the nurse said to me, “No! No you aren’t!” I was happy she was there to boost my self esteem. After a few tries, he finally got it in. I was extremely grateful; not because it was going to relieve pain, but because he didn’t have to keep giving me shots.    

Once I had the epidural, things went pretty smoothly, although I still didn’t have energy to do anything else but lay there. Many of my friends said to bring games or something to do because labor can be long and boring. We brought games and had our computer for Netflix. Jeff asked me if I wanted to put a movie on but I said no because I wouldn’t be really watching it anyway. Oh ya, little did I know that we aren’t allowed to drink water when in labor?! You get stupid ice chips! I mean I guess I shouldn’t insult them because they kept me from dying of thirst, but just barely! I often asked Jeff to get me ice and would try to wait until they melted down a little in order for me to get a drink. He caught on and drank the water out before handing me the ice chips. I also tried to breathe on the ice chips to make them melt. Didn’t work. They did have popsicles which was nice. I think I got stuck with a few grape flavored ones, but I was grateful nonetheless. I was surprised that throughout my whole labor I didn’t get hungry.

At 7 a.m. it was time for my nurse to go home. She was going to go get donuts (a Sunday tradition) and stop by CVS to pick up a card for her husband for Father’s Day. She said that the medicine was working and I should have the baby pretty soon. We said our goodbyes and along came my new nurse.

Karen was the next nurse. She was short, medium build, middle aged, had blonde hair, and ended up being the reason I didn’t have a c-section. Because I wasn’t in too much pain, I got to know her pretty well the few hours before I began pushing. She had been doing labor and delivery for over twenty years. She was very kind and patient. She said although she had been doing her job for a long time they were making it so she had to get her BA in order to keep her job. She was very nervous about going back to school. I understand the desire for nurses to have a BA, but a BA couldn't have made her any more helpful; she was extremely knowledgeable. By 10 a.m. they told me I was going to start pushing soon. Because the baby was so low, everyone predicted that he would come fast. Right before I was supposed to start pushing, the baby’s heart rate dropped. I think it was because of the way I was laying on my side, but don’t know for sure. So I had to wait two more hours for the baby’s heart rate to go down before I could start pushing. Around 12 or 12:30, I was finally given the orders to push.   

I pushed for two hours, but the baby did not budge. They decided to let me rest for a bit. I think I rested for about two hours. I pushed again for another two hours, but again, the baby didn’t budge. By this time I was extremely tired, emotionally and physically. Looking back, I realize that I was not doing effective pushing. I always thought you push from your stomach muscles but it is more of the “bathroom muscles,” as the nurse put it. I never did get the pushing and breathing right. So confusing! Anyway, after pushing for another two hours, the nurse said she was going to talk to the doctor and see what he wanted to do. The nurse came back and said that they would use a vacuum on me, and if that didn’t work then they would do a c-section. I knew I didn’t want a c-section so I was eager to make the vacuum work.  To tell the truth, the vacuum sounded nice; I was hopeful at the idea of the vacuum, as if it could magically suck the baby out and I wouldn’t even have to push. The nurse left for a few minutes and came back. She said that the doctor had changed his mind; I could push a little longer and then he would just go straight to a c-section. This was an emotional blow for me. I really didn’t want a c-section but the thought of pushing even harder was overwhelming.

Thank goodness for my amazing nurse. She said that with the baby’s heart rate fine and with my desire to avoid a c-section, she didn’t see any reason to do one. She said they would give me a booster of my epidural, let me rest for a little bit and then push even harder to make the baby come out. That plan sounded great to me because I really liked the idea of more meds.

When the anesthesiologist came in to give me a booster, she said, “You know, child birth isn’t supposed to be pain free.”  Dejectedly, I said, “I know.”   I think she was trying to pump me up or something, make me tougher, but all it did is hurt my self esteem. I felt like she was saying I needed to toughen up. I probably did, but still, it made me sad to hear her said that. She gave me the meds and left. After they set in, and I rested for a little bit (not nearly as long as I had thought I would be allowed to rest), I felt rejuvenated. I was ready to start pushing again.

This time, my nurse pulled out all the tricks. First, she put a mirror in front of me. Initially I resisted, but she convinced me. She said that a mirror often helped the mother because the mother became more motivated to push when she could see the baby’s head. And, to my surprise, it actually did help a lot. With the mirror in place, I could see his full head of long, jet black hair. However, he still wasn’t coming. I had progressed enough though that the doctor said I could keep pushing and did not have to have a c-section.  We did a few more things, but still no baby.  Eventually, she did the “towel trick”.

She would hold on to one end of a hand towel and pull while I sat up, pulled back, and pushed. The next day I couldn’t figure out why my shoulders and arms were sore, but then I remembered my towel pulls. In between pushing, when she told me to relax, because I was so exhausted, I would close my eyes and start to fall asleep. Then, she would say, “Ok, time to push again.” Although the baby was coming, he still wasn’t here and it was the end of my nurse’s shift.  I was so sad she was off, but pleasantly surprised when my first nurse walked in. She said, “You’re still here?! We all thought you would have the baby in the morning! I guess he just wanted to see me.”  I asked her how her Father’s Day went and she told me all about it. She took over doing the towel trick, but honestly, wasn’t nearly as good as the other nurse. Actually, even though my second nurse was off, she stayed around till the baby came.  Well, almost two more hours of pushing and he finally came!

A nurse put him on me, but I was so thirsty, I just passed him off to Jeff and asked for water. I was a little disappointed that it wasn’t this “glorious, magical moment” that is often portrayed on TV, but I was tired! As the doctors continued to work on me, I quickly gulped down a glass of water. By this time, Tyler was all cleaned up and ready for me to hold him. He was so inquisitive and had huge eyes. His face was swollen and his back all bruised, but he was healthy. He was healthy, and he was all ours.  The next day he was officially named Tyler Boyd Lake.    

Not gonna lie, at first I was like "He looks like an alien!" But then after the swelling went down, he looked much better.   

Tyler the next day. 


And so my friends, “The fun has arrived!”

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