Here is the little peanut that has stolen my heart. Isn't she just a cutie? Of course, being her mommy, I'm probably the most biased person! The outfit she's wearing was a gift she just received in the mail from my cousin Heather, her husband Dave, their daughter EMS and son Walker. Carters makes the cutest baby clothes. And our baby, who is just sooo cute, where's the cutest clothes quite well!!!On Thursday July 14th at 9:00 p.m. Steven and I tucked ourselves into bed for a good night's sleep. At 9:15 I felt something strange pop inside me and instantly new what had occurred: my water had broken!!
This came as quite the surprise considering I hadn't felt any pronounced contractions prior. Sure, the typical braxton hicks had plagued me for weeks, but nothing terribly uncomfortable. Plus, I was aware that statistically, spontaneous rupture of membranes before labor happens in about only 15 percent of pregnancies!
Well, after that surprise at 9:15 p.m., and I was convinced what I thought had happened was truly what did happen, I woke up my husband at 9:30. As soon as my water had broke contractions boldly ensued - contractions that were uncomfortable - like a charlie horse in the gut. Steven put in a call to the birth center around quarter of 10 and the midwife on call, Tara, said to wait an hour and see how the timing of my contractions changed.
When we made the phone call at 9:45 p.m. or so, my contractions were lasting 30 seconds and were every 1 to 1 1/2 minutes. Every fourth to sixth contraction was a doozy - lasting about a minute and really hurting. Not long after the phone call to the midwife the contractions got worse. They progressed from what I had kindly called a "charlie horse" before, to what I now referred to as "something wicked".
At 10:45 or so we called Tara back and told her where I stood with contractions. They were now lasting at least a minute, sometimes more, and were coming every two minutes or so. And, they were noticeably much, much more uncomfortable!! Tara told us to drive to the birth center at that time, especially since we lived a little further away than most people (about 17 miles away).
Steven and I arrived at the birth center around midnight. The midwife Tara and nurse Bree greeted us at the back door. Bree was busy cleaning up the #1 birthing room (someone had just had a baby prior to me). This room was the best; it had a large hot tub for laboring and birthing. While Bree cleaned, Tara the midwife brought me in to a room to examine me. I was 7 centimeters dilated!! Steven and I were both amazed. How quick! I was expecting maybe 3, 4, or 5 centimeters, but 7? How wonderful!
After Tara checked me, the room and tub were done being sanitized. They filled the tub and I eagerly hopped in to ease the pains of contractions. I was amazed at how effective the warm water was at soothing the pain. Steven helped ease the lower back pain I experienced during contractions by putting pressure on my lower back and rubbing it. He was such a help!
Sometime after 1:30 a.m. Tara checked me again and said that I could start pushing if I like and if it felt right. I didn't know what was supposed to feel right, but was told that I would know and to trust my instinct. As I played around with pushing, I joked with Bree and Tara, saying "I really have no clue what I'm doing!" They laughed. After pushing in the tub for a bit we decided to try pushing out of the tub. This sounded appealing to me because 1) I could try a variety of positions outside of the tub to see what worked for me and 2) gravity could possibly be my ally.
Out of the tub I instinctively wanted to be in a squatting position - no birthing stool or anything, just me. Tara and Bree noted how flexible I was and that this could work very well for me. After trying that for a bit, with some (but unfortunately limited) progress, we tried other positions like side-lying, tug of war, the birthing stool, and my choice second to squatting: the toilet. This went on for quite some time.
For whatever reason, progress was elusive, and after a couple hours I was becoming exhausted. There was tension in the air. Tara continued to monitor the baby's heart rate and the baby was showing signs of decreasing tolerance. Her heart rate was not dropping, but accelerating during and after contractions. Tara started to get assertive. It was time to get the baby out. Tara and Bree speculated that a full bladder could be to blame for my difficulty in getting the baby to descend. (Apparently a full bladder is enough to get in the way!) I tried urinating on my own, to no avail, so Tara and Bree needed to use a catheter to empty my bladder. I was less than thrilled about this procedure, however, if it would aid in having our baby born, it was a must.
After emptying my bladder, which was not very full, but full enough to impede our progress, pushing actually started to go somewhere. Tara still voiced her concerns that the baby had to be born soon since she was getting tired and less tolerant of pushing. The pressure was on. If the baby wasn't out soon Tara told me they'd have no choice but to send me over to Tucson Medical Center (TMC, the hospital next door). Words like "catheterization", "hospital", “episiotomy” and "vacuum extraction" were not words I had anticipated hearing during this birth, and yet I was hearing them. As exhausted as I was, losing my voice, and weak all over, I laid in bed on my back and I pushed with everything I had - and then some more. Being transferred to the hospital at this stage in the game was the last thing I wanted. Alas, at 3:44 a.m. our beautiful little girl was born!!
After L was out, and laid out upon my stomach, Tara and Bree frantically suctioned her and toweled her off. The moment was intensely frenetic. Next thing I knew, Tara and Bree had clamped L's cord and cut it so they could bring her into the other room to further suction her and give her oxygen. In all the commotion I hopelessly went along with it. It was only in reflection that I am still very saddened that Steven did not get to cut the cord.
The reason for the midwife and nurse's actions was because L was experiencing respiratory distress manifested by retractions. After an unknown and unnerving amount of time passed, Tara informed me that she felt it was necessary for L to be brought over to TMC for assessment. She assured me that, aside from the retractions, L was otherwise completely healthy; however, a trip to the NICU for evaluation would still be in her best interest.
They handed me L as they called for paramedics to come. Thoughts flooded my head, and I kept hoping L would turn around by the time they got there so she wouldn't have to go. I desperately held her in my arms, keeping the oxygen by her nose and mouth, hopeful. I grabbed Steven's hand and said, "Please go with her. Don't leave her side."
A few minutes later, a few men (who looked more like big dirty firefighters than clean attentive paramedics) showed up. When they entered the birth center I felt threatened; my privacy breached, vulnerable and powerless. I was extremely uncomfortable with these men even touching our baby. They didn't even have a warmer for transporting L. They claimed they had oxygen, however I later found out it was inoperative during the ride to TMC. I truly felt the best place for L was with me and feared for the additional distress the transfer would incur. I was devastated when they took her. I was at least grateful they agreed to allow Steven to ride with them in the ambulance over to TMC.
After they left, Tara and Bree took me in to a room to suture me; I had a second degree tear. Afterwards I went back in the birthing room bed for three hours alone, hurt, and scared. The air conditioning was so cold I laid there shivering, wishing I had the warmth of my newborn and husband beside me, and cried.
Over the course of those few hours I kept hearing updates of communications between the birth center and TMC's NICU. The NICU had assessed L and determined she was fine. Her retractions were likely due to prolonged transition or retained lung fluid. They considered her a well-baby and she could be released back to the birth center. All of this was determined about an hour after her arrival at TMC, but no thanks to hospital politics and obligatory paper work it took an additional two hours for her and my husband to come back to the birth center (which is all of not even two minutes away).
Alas, at quarter of 7 a.m., we were together as a family to bond for the first time. I got to hold L and look over her every precious feature while comforted by Steven's presence. We eventually began to call family, take pictures, and enjoy the moments that had been temporarily deferred. Despite the turmoil that had occurred, what was most important was that L was safe and healthy, and we could now begin our life together in serenity. This was the moment I had waited so long for. Our child was here. We were now a family.
