...The Birth
We held hands as we drove across town making our way to Central Dupage Hospital. We didn't speak much, as we were both full of emotion we couldn't quite put words to. Silence seemed best in those moments leading up to the big event waiting for us upon our arrival. We checked in at the front desk, made our way to the elevator, arms full of our belongings, and watched the 3 light up as the doors closed and we were carried off to our final destination. We were greeted by the nurses, signed a few papers, and lead down the hall to a room on the right. It wasn't a "park view", but we did have a view of the lobby which made me feel a bit less isolated as I watched love ones come and go through the elevator doors.
It was a big, cold room with all the necessary equipment to bring a baby into the world safe and sound. The monitor that would keep track of your heart rate, along with mine, sat to my right side. I loved the sound of your tiny, beating heart! The nurse went through all the routine questions and gave us far too much information as she attached the monitor to my belly. You were active as usual and I watched you move inside me and cherished every bit of the closeness I felt with you. You were safe there, and I was confident of that. As impatient as I was to meet you face to face, I loved the bond we had and being able to feel you move and stretch. Dad pulled the reclining chair up flush with the bed, leaned back, and reached for my hand. He was such a great support and made me feel so loved and cared for!
The nurse inserted the medication around 9pm, after I got settled in the bed for the night. The bed was anything but comfortable, and it was hard to find a position comfortable enough to rest in. I made it clear from the beginning that I wanted a natural birth with no medication of any kind, and definitely no c-section. I knew my body was made to birth you, and I wanted to feel every bit of the pain, and enjoy the beautiful process of you entering the world!
That night I was able to rest for a few hours, on and off, but had a hard time sleeping as I was revved up on the excitement of meeting you. The cramping and small, constant contractions didn't help the resting much either. Overall it was an easy night, and I was ready for the morning to come so that we could get the contractions to come more regularly and with more strength to entice you to come out sooner!
Sometime in the afternoon, the contractions started to become all the more strong causing me to have to stop and hang onto the wall as I breathed through the tightening in my belly. I went between sitting in the chair, and roaming the halls for what seemed like forever. At about 5 o'clock, while Dad and I were exiting the room to venture into the hall, the doctor approached us with a few options. He said we could either take a break from the Pit so that I could get a bit of rest, or he could break my water and get things really moving! Obviously I wanted to meet you sooner than later, so I opted for the latter.
Before he proceeded with the procedure, he checked me for progress. NOTHING! I was so discouraged. My contractions had been strong and close together for some time now, and I was truly convinced something had been happening. I wanted to get this birthing process on the move, and I was ready to feel you in my arms and look at your sweet face. Immediately after my water was broken, the contractions became much more intense. I now moved on to the exercise ball where I would stay for the next few hours as I breathed through the pain that came every two minutes and lasted a bit longer each time. Grandma and Grandpa went out for a while to get some dinner, allowing Dad and I a little time to ourselves as the pain continued to increase. Daddy was so wonderful, and I wouldn't have wanted to endure the pain I was experiencing with anyone else but him by my side. He was so encouraging, patient, loving, and overall the greatest support a girl could ever want.
When my parents came back, we turned on American Idol to keep my mind on something other than the pain. Towards the end of the show around 8 or so, the pain escalated. Dad quickly turned the TV off, put on my music mix, and sat behind me rocking with me as I swayed back and forth on the blue ball. It was the only thing that felt good as the pain was pushing down and burning with great heat! I had to go to the bathroom quite often as the pressure kept forcing itself on me with great strength. By 9:30 I was convinced I had definitely progressed, and felt I was getting really close to pushing time. The pressure and pain seemed so intense that I just knew things HAD to be moving along quite quickly by now. As a contraction was in full force, I ran to the bathroom with dad holding me up, and before I knew it I was vomiting into a pink, kidney bean shaped dish. I felt so tired at this point as it had been a full 24 hours since this all began with little rest to be had.
From the beginning I had made it clear that I wanted NO drugs, and they had respected that without ever asking me otherwise. But around 10, Grandma and Dad encouraged me otherwise. I insisted to be checked to solidify my feelings of progression, but instead I was defeated and felt totally ripped off when the nurse said what I had already heard three times: 2 centimeters!! NO PROGRESS! Oh how I felt cheated. I fought the idea of an epidural, until Grandma said it might help my body to relax and move things along. She insisted I need rest, which I did so badly, and reminded me that if indeed I wanted to push I would need strength. Without rest I would be useless. I gave in!
Around 11pm, we were greeted by a very nice, young anesthesiologist. He went over all the logistics, explained the procedure, and was so encouraging and made it all go so smoothly. I didn't feel a thing, and dad was again, wonderful! A few minutes after he finished, and had me lie down slightly leaning to my left side I broke down. The pain increased, but in a whole new way. It was as if I had a never ceasing cramp that took over my entire abdomen and was pulling tighter and tighter without letting up. I cried out in pain, and things began to blur as the pain continued to escalate. He assured us that with in 15 minutes I would feel relief. I did not. Dad called the nurse, and a few minutes later the man reappeared with more intense drugs to put into the epidural site to bring the relief he promised me the first time around. This time, he didn't fail me. I don't remember much of the next two hours.
My body felt as if it were concrete. I couldn't feel anything, as the nurses flopped my body from side to side as they tried to reposition me. At this point in time, I started going in and out of an awake state not really understanding what was going on. I remember them putting an oxygen mask on my face and feeling short of breath, but after that all was black. Dad, Grandma D, and Grandpa D started to get concerned as they heard your heart rate slow on the machine, and saw my body turn white as the sheets underneath my cold, lifeless self. My blood pressure had bottomed out, and your heart rate plummeted causing great concern. The nurse on duty was very attentive and informative to Dad, and Grandma D and Grandpa D were great support to him, as well. They were giving me medications to bring my blood pressure back up and put some adrenalin back into my system. As your heart rate began to drop, they were forced to stop the pitocin because with each contraction it would drop lower and lower. I'm not exactly sure how long this frightful scene went on, but I know it gave the family quite a scare.
When I woke up at around 2 am, I looked to my left where Dad sat holding my hand, and I wept. I cried out of frustration, and the reality that my utmost desire to birth you naturally was being taken away from me. I looked at dad and said, "I'm going to have to have a C-section aren't I?" He calmly said in response, "Maybe not babe, we will see what the doctor says. You are looking so much better maybe things are moving along now." I felt so defeated. The doctor came in shortly after I awoke, and decided he would check me to see if the rest helped something change. FINALLY something had happened. I was 100% effaced, and nearly 5 centimeters. He seemed pleased and even went so far as to say, "I'm confident you will be pushing your baby out before I leave at 7!" When he came into the room, he was convinced he would be wheeling me down the hall to take you out via C-section, but because of my bit of progress, he decided we could wait a little while longer. As the nurse was checking things out, she noticed I had a bit of meconium. She commented on it, with slight concern, but said we would keep an eye on it and see what the doctors thoughts were. At around 3 am, we tried to get some rest. Grandpa snored on the couch, while Dad and Grandma D tried with great effort to get comfortable in the recliners and relax enough to doze off for a bit. I couldn't get much rest, but was able to at least shut my eyes and get some light rest. At around 6am, I began to feel quite a bit of pressure causing me to feel the need to push. It was getting stronger and I expressed the sensation of needing to have a bowel movement to the nurse. She said that was a good sign, and had great hopes that she would be assisting in the delivery of our baby very soon! A little before 7, the nurse offered to check me to see if in fact you were ready to come out, and to our great disappointment my body just wasn't prepared to push you out. The doctor started to have some big concerns, including the large amount of meconium, my cervix had become quite swollen, and the fact that if I moved off of my left side your heart rate would drop. He insisted the best thing for both of us would be to perform a C-section right away. I wept again. I looked over towards Dad and Grandma for an answer, and both were nodding their heads in approval. They were so encouraging and loving through it all, and at that moment I felt peace in this decision. Grandpa D took a couple pictures of us as they prepared to take me into the OR suite, and prayed over us as we waited.
Dad was incredible through every step of this long, thirty-six hour journey, and was just so excited and filled with joy that we were finally going to be able to meet you! He was given a pair of navy blue scrubs, a hat, and a mask to prepare for the OR room. The nurses gave me a blue hat to put on over my hair as they wheeled me down the hall, past the nurses station, and into the OR wing. As the OR doors opened a wall of cold air smacked against us, and I was brought into a bright room with over-sized machines. The cramping sensation in my stomach had returned as the epidural was wearing off, and my nerves were in high gear. The anesthesiologist in the OR was so wonderful and kind. He was an Indian man, with rings on almost all of his fingers, and a soft, friendly way about him. With great instruction, he walked me through the process, explained the drugs and what the doctors were going to be doing. It truly helped me feel more at ease. Nausea was something I had dealt with the night before, and he informed me that it may happen during the surgery as well, and if that were the case to let him know immediately so that he could give me something to ease my stomach. The surgical techs hung a blue drape up just under my chin, secured my arms to the bed, placed oxygen in my nose and a blood pressure cuff on my left arm, and called the doctor in from the scrub room. It was time!
As the doctor came in, he plugged in his iPod and picked out some old timing music, and began prepping my large belly with cold, yellow betadine. They test the area to make sure I couldn't feel anything, which I couldn't, and called Dad in to sit by my side. I was so glad to have him there holding my hand, talking in my ear in between kisses on my forehead. As I felt the tugging and pulling of the doctors at work, Dad looked at me and said, "So you still thinking it's a boy?" I said with great confidence, "Yep! Still thinking boy!"
The doctor assisting said, not so quietly to the other doctor, "Where's the head!?" Dad and I looked at each other puzzled, but moments later we heard, "IT'S A GIRL! You have a baby girl!" Immediately we both began to cry with great tears of joy as Dad exclaimed, "No way, it's a girl! A girl!" We were overjoyed and so in love with our daughter. A few moments later we heard the doctor yell out, "Cord wrapped once." We hadn't heard you cry yet, and I started repeating over and over, "Cry, Cry, Please Cry!!?" And then we heard you for the first time, and the tears fell harder. For a very quick second the Doctor peaked around the blue drape holding you up and said, "Meet your baby girl!" Oh how I wanted to kiss you, I hated not being able to have you in my arms right away. After we saw you, we said to each other, "Zaylee Jean. We have a daughter!" After a few minutes, the pediatrician came over and reported that you were "perfect". You were healthy, and beautiful!
There are no words that I can say to describe the amazing feeling that came a few minutes later when the nurse walked you over to me, and laid you across my chest. I kissed your sweet cheek and was filled with so much joy I felt as if my heart would pop out of my chest! Dad was able to hold you, and the look on his face is one I never want to have leave my mind. He loves you more than you will ever know sweet girl!!
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