Back to Life
Where should I start? Time being at a premium now, I don't want to take too long to tell our story. I'm still in my pajamas and the baby is sleeping in front of the window while the Barefoot Contessa makes a Thanksgiving dinner for two people.
Nathan and I went into the hospital Tuesday night to get things started. The first order of business was to "ripen" my cervix. That sounds strange, like I'm a piece of fruit or something, but it was a necessary step towards a successful induction. I didn't sleep well all night. Besides my mind racing, it was nearly impossible to find a comfortable position as I was hooked up to two different monitors, one that tracked my contractions and one that tracked the baby's heartbeat.
By morning things had not progressed that far. I had visions of being in the delivery room indefinitely. I was started on Pitocin around 11 am and Dr. V. broke my water to attach a fetal monitor to the baby's head. After that my contractions really kicked in. I was asked to indicate how painful they were on a scale from 1 to 10. I was at a 5. Not much more painful than the worst menstrual cramp I've ever had, but I was not looking forward to getting up to 10.
After contracting for a few hours the doctor decided to do a C-section. The baby's heartrate had dropped drastically quite a few times during the night when I would get up to go to the bathroom, any time I changed position and a few times during labor. Dr. V. was afraid that the baby wouldn't be able to handle the stress of labor. By that time all my anxieties about getting a C-section had vanished. I was relieved to be putting an end to this.
When I was wheeled into the operating room I was scared beyond belief. With the exception of a tonsillectomy when I was 5, I had never had major surgery before. Nathan wasn't able to be with me until they called for him and I felt totally alone. I started to cry.
Eventually Nathan came in and held my hand through the entire thing. The anesthesiologist asked if I wanted a mirror propped above my head so that I could see the baby being born. "You won't see anything gory, I promise," he said.
I don't think I'll ever forget the images and sounds of the operating room. The way our daughter looked as she was being born, the glorious wail that followed and seeing her for the first time in her father's arms. When she was being cleaned off I pointed to her and said to Nathan, "Look, we made that."
So things did not go as planned, but none of that matters. Sure, I can't drive for two weeks, have staples holding my skin together and can't get up without wincing, but the pain is fading fast. I didn't get to push my daughter out, but she got out just the same.
She's doing well, a little jaundiced, but otherwise she's ok. The first couple of days back home have been rough. Yesterday was my first full day back home and I broke down many times. Thank God for Nathan. He's my rock. He hates to seem me cry and I hate to have him tell me not to cry. "I just had a baby and am gong to cry if I want to!" I say. Most of this stems from sleep deprivation. Those first couple of days in the hospital give you a false sense of security. There are nurses attending to you, the baby is calm and tired from delivery and you aren't expected to do anything but recover from delivery. If you want to get some sleep, you can just ship the baby off to the nursery.
Our girl, like all babies, has her days and nights mixed up. She is giving her parent's a rough time of it, but those who have been there have assured us things will work out eventually. With all my impatience of wanting to give birth, I've actually had a few fleeting thoughts that things were much, much easier when I was still just pregnant. More than once I've thought, "What have we done?" Things will never be the same, but that was the idea behind having a baby in the first place.
Nathan and I went into the hospital Tuesday night to get things started. The first order of business was to "ripen" my cervix. That sounds strange, like I'm a piece of fruit or something, but it was a necessary step towards a successful induction. I didn't sleep well all night. Besides my mind racing, it was nearly impossible to find a comfortable position as I was hooked up to two different monitors, one that tracked my contractions and one that tracked the baby's heartbeat.
By morning things had not progressed that far. I had visions of being in the delivery room indefinitely. I was started on Pitocin around 11 am and Dr. V. broke my water to attach a fetal monitor to the baby's head. After that my contractions really kicked in. I was asked to indicate how painful they were on a scale from 1 to 10. I was at a 5. Not much more painful than the worst menstrual cramp I've ever had, but I was not looking forward to getting up to 10.
After contracting for a few hours the doctor decided to do a C-section. The baby's heartrate had dropped drastically quite a few times during the night when I would get up to go to the bathroom, any time I changed position and a few times during labor. Dr. V. was afraid that the baby wouldn't be able to handle the stress of labor. By that time all my anxieties about getting a C-section had vanished. I was relieved to be putting an end to this.
When I was wheeled into the operating room I was scared beyond belief. With the exception of a tonsillectomy when I was 5, I had never had major surgery before. Nathan wasn't able to be with me until they called for him and I felt totally alone. I started to cry.
Eventually Nathan came in and held my hand through the entire thing. The anesthesiologist asked if I wanted a mirror propped above my head so that I could see the baby being born. "You won't see anything gory, I promise," he said.
I don't think I'll ever forget the images and sounds of the operating room. The way our daughter looked as she was being born, the glorious wail that followed and seeing her for the first time in her father's arms. When she was being cleaned off I pointed to her and said to Nathan, "Look, we made that."
So things did not go as planned, but none of that matters. Sure, I can't drive for two weeks, have staples holding my skin together and can't get up without wincing, but the pain is fading fast. I didn't get to push my daughter out, but she got out just the same.
She's doing well, a little jaundiced, but otherwise she's ok. The first couple of days back home have been rough. Yesterday was my first full day back home and I broke down many times. Thank God for Nathan. He's my rock. He hates to seem me cry and I hate to have him tell me not to cry. "I just had a baby and am gong to cry if I want to!" I say. Most of this stems from sleep deprivation. Those first couple of days in the hospital give you a false sense of security. There are nurses attending to you, the baby is calm and tired from delivery and you aren't expected to do anything but recover from delivery. If you want to get some sleep, you can just ship the baby off to the nursery.
Our girl, like all babies, has her days and nights mixed up. She is giving her parent's a rough time of it, but those who have been there have assured us things will work out eventually. With all my impatience of wanting to give birth, I've actually had a few fleeting thoughts that things were much, much easier when I was still just pregnant. More than once I've thought, "What have we done?" Things will never be the same, but that was the idea behind having a baby in the first place.
