We had a great dinner at my parents on Easter Sunday, April 20th. My mom made roasted chicken at my request- even though she was already making baked ziti for everyone else. (Being pregnant definitely had some perks!). Dinner was delicious...nothing like a home cooked meal...Afterwards we all opened our Easter baskets and gorged on Easter candy in the living room...mostly Cadbury mini eggs for me :) Brian got lots of dark chocolate goodies and a good time was had by all.
As one can imagine, by the end of the evening (being 38 weeks pregnant) my stomach was uncomfortably full...TUMS to the rescue, or so I thought. I laid semi-upright in bed when we got home for quite a while...long after Brian was snoring beside me. I even took an extra dose without it really letting up. Was this more than just heartburn? Baby G was squirming around as I shifted to get comfortable while reading on my iPhone about all the horrible complications of pre-eclampsia (which I had been recently diagnosed). I read about how sometimes the epigastric pain of pre-eclampsia could be misdiagnosed as heartburn. Brian rolled over in his sleep when I checked my blood pressure with the automatic cuff...140/85. A little elevated but not terrible. Sometimes being a hypochondriac can be downright exhausting!
My eyes were burning from staring at my phone. Finally I stopped googling and decided I really needed to get some sleep. I turned off my light and tried to get comfortable - which despite 2 body pillows - was quite a challenge these days. Of course it was when I finally started to drift off to sleep that I had my first contraction. In that moment I just thought it was an "unusually uncomfortable Braxton Hicks contraction"...after all, I'd been having those for weeks now. But then there was another one. And another. I decided I should start keeping track. I counted 6 more in the next hour. It was 5:15 AM. I started wondering if I should wake up Brian...? When a contraction was over I would question whether I really had one at all or whether it was just in my imagination?? I'd close my eyes and try to fall asleep and then a new (and even more uncomfortable) one would hit me...
I woke up Brian at 5:30 AM and we laid in bed together wondering if this could really be labor?At 6 AM we decided to call the doctor: "Pack a bag, take a shower if you want, don't run any red lights but start making your way here" he instructed. We were in luck- our OB ("Dr. Garrison*" who we'd only just met last week) was on-call today starting at 8AM. Brian and I started getting things ready...we took showers. He even made coffee. I packed the red travel bag my mom had given me for Christmas with lots of things I wouldn't use: a notebook (ha!), my own underwear (haha!), makeup (LOL). The contractions were becoming distracting now and I found myself taking an extra long time to get ready.
And just when I thought we were on our way, Brian made me pose for a selfie as we walked out the door:
I was happy to see that the tulips I planted in the fall were almost all in full bloom now...how symbolic :) The sky was clear and the air was crisp but warm enough to get away with my usual sweatshirt (a sherpa-lined one that was a gift from my brother). I was wearing my pregnancy uniform- a grey shirt and my black yoga pants. We got in the car and I switched on the heated seat straight away. Are we going to have a baby today???
On the way to the hospital we listened to the motivational playlist I had created on my phone with memorable tracks from our wedding, spin class and of course the Summer (was it 2011? 12?) classic "Call Me Maybe". Between contractions I found myself singing along (not all that surprising) and Brian even re-enacted the Call Me Maybe craze lip syncing and making calls on his pretend hand-turned-phone. It was a nice scenic drive to the hospital...tress lining the road with fresh new leaves and tight buds ready to bloom. The sky was a clear blue and the sun was shining brightly. We got caught up in the morning commute but didn't mind taking our time. We arrived at the hospital around 7:45 AM and followed another expectant couple inside...
We walked into the maternity unit just as our doctor was swiping in for her shift. She looked surprised but excited to see us (a week earlier than scheduled). They sent us to triage (the same room I was in for monitoring just last Thursday) and Violet, our nurse, seemed a little rough around the edges. She strapped me to the monitor while Brian and I filled her in about the overnight turn of events. Baby G's heart rate was strong in the 140-150s range. My contractions looked like little hills on the graph paper that continuously slid through the printer beside me. My blood pressure was a little high...150/90s. Brian was a little antsy and as usual making me laugh playing with all the equipment he could get his hands on :) Our doctor came in and examined me and found me to be 5 cm! She grabbed the ultrasound machine just to double check that Baby G was still breech and sure enough way up high on my belly were his or her little toes right up by -you guessed it- his or her sweet face..."Looks like you're going to have a baby today" she said..."When?", we asked..."how about, now?" she answered.
A flurry of activity ensued while Violet frantically ran around trying to "get everything done". A chart was generated for our baby (?!!!!), an IV was placed in my right wrist on the second try (ouch!) and they started pumping me up with a ridiculous amount of fluid...Lactated Ringers which Brian chimed in is usually reserved for trauma patients on the ambulance. Thanks babe, that helps! Blood was drawn, urine samples labeled and sent. I was shivering in the paper thin hospital gown, likely from all the cold fluid rushing through my veins. Brian made a few quick calls to let everyone know what was happening and then sprung into action beside me tapping away on his work computer to let his colleagues know he would be out of the office...
And then once everything was done and the deadly penicillin (which I am highly allergic to) re-ordered as clindamycin (thanks to Violet- maybe she wasn't so bad after all?), they led me down the corridor to the cold, sterile OR. All the memories of rushing to deliveries flooded my brain...all the emergency c-sections I've attended in the past. All those times I was not the patient. It felt weird being on the other side. I found it odd that I was walking to the OR...weren't they supposed to push me on a stretcher or something? It felt strangely anti-climatic. I questioned my choice in socks...thin, black ankle socks. What was I thinking? Brian was led to an adjacent waiting room as they brought me over to the narrow OR table and helped me climb up. Dr. Garrison held and rubbed my rounded shoulders and gently instructed me to look down while Arti (the anesthesiologist) got started on my spinal. I watched as soggy tears began to soak through Dr. Garrison's scrubs...she just kept reminding me to breathe and that I'd be meeting my baby soon...even though it wasn't the way I had planned. Her sincerity and compassion struck me and made me cry even more. She knew how much I had wanted a natural delivery and remembered us so clearly even though we had only just met last week. I felt like I had known her for years.
The nurses helped me lay on the table and started hooking me up to all sorts of electronics when we realized I still had my bra on...Dr. Garrison tried (unsuccessfully) to remove it and we all had a good laugh (that Brian and the neonatologist even heard in the next room!). It lightened the heavy, serious atmosphere of the OR. I felt pins and needles rising up from my feet to my hips, then back to my feet and then just felt heavy, weighted. Strange pressure sensations ensued as they began draping and scrubbing...is this what surrender feels like I wondered? Reflecting back on my Bikram yoga days...getting myself into a position that is so uncomfortable and just using my mind and breath to keep myself there. I guess this was a little different being chemically paralyzed and all, but still. Work with me here.
Brian joined me in his all-white "bunny" suit complete with hair cover and mask. As our eyes met I knew we were both thinking the same thing..."is this all really happening?!". He has a way. The tears welled up again. This was definitely going to be an emotional day! Right up there with our wedding day! He held and rubbed my left hand and spoke softly to me as they got started...
I remember feeling chest pain, heaviness, panicky. I kept asking Arti if it was normal. She kept trying to reassure me- even showed me my vital signs on the monitor so I would believe her. My oxygen saturation was perfect at 100%. Why did I feel so awful then? I was shaky, antsy and then all of a sudden there was our baby! They told Brian to stand up to see what we had...he hesitated for a moment and then proudly announced "We have a daughter!"....Really??? A GIRL?!
Seconds later we heard her blood curdling (!!!), ear-piercing (!) cry (that could really only be described as a shriek) that would become the background noise through the rest of my surgery...Brian and I exchanged relieved, yet worried looks (-thankfully her cry would come down a few octaves over the next few days). They quickly came around to show her to me and that moment is forever emblazoned in my mind. Her hands franticly reaching (reaching for me??), her bald(ish) head, her ruddy red skin, her eyes squeezed tightly shut in protest of the fluorescent lights, her wet and wide open mouth letting out the strongest, shrillest cry I think I ever heard! I reached out and touched her warm, damp skin and could hardly believe that she was here- she was real, she was OURS...and she was thankfully, healthy.
Baby G screams at mommy:
Then at daddy:
and then finally settles down in my arms for our first family photo!
*Healthcare workers names have been altered for privacy
