Warning: This is going to be a long post, as I plan on just copying this into my journal eventually. So don't feel bad if you skip it. Oh and it's kinda detailed (aka graphic). So don't say I didn't warn you. :)
The beginning is actually a week before Sam came. I went to my 36 week check up and was dilated to a "stretchy" 1 1/2 cms and 50% effaced. So of course I called my sister and she assured me she was the same, and that I was probably on the path to have a fairly speedy delivery like my mom and sister. Yippee! I continued packing like a mad woman for our upcoming move. Oh and decided to throw in one last roadtrip. We went up to Seattle to see my brother-in-law pitch for UW. But seriously, who's idea of a cruel joke was the 12 innings in game 1 of a double header?
Starting that weekend, including the drive home, I would get spontaneous "braxton hicks" contractions. But relying on the trusty Internet I chose to ignore them and continue full steam in the move prepping. Besides every site I checked told me that the pains I was having were braxton hicks contractions. They were in my back and down low. For it to be the real thing it needs to be all over. HAHA! Plus every first-time mom is late. I did however follow my sister's suggestion and pack my bag. Well half-packed. I still needed to get a few things, so I didn't put the bag in the car.
Did you know only 5% of babies are born on their due date? Every woman in my family is late. Why should I be any different? I not only thought, I planned on my baby being late. And not just late, at least a full week late. So to me planning a move 2 weekends before the due date wasn't foolish, it was prudent. We were moving to a more budget friendly place BEFORE the baby came and we'd be settled in BEFORE he came. So I came home from work Tuesday and stayed up until 2 am packing the kitchen, linens, etc. I only had to pause a couple of times due to my "braxton hicks" contractions. Silly Adam was of course over-reacting when he timed them, saw they were about every 15 min. and suggested we call the doctor or maybe even go to the hospital. I could go to sleep, surely I couldn't sleep if they were actual contractions? Plus I had a doctor's appointment the next day.
That brings us to Wednesday. I was starting to really understand what people said about the end being uncomfortable. I had a horrible pressure down low that made me waddle worse than ever. And I was just all around uncomfortable with braxton hicks contractions all day. Even my boss told me I looked uncomfortable. (Geez, thanks! I think you mean I just look bad!) But he did suggest maybe I could start working from home sooner than originally planned. That sounded good to me!
After the night and now day of sporadic "braxton hicks" contractions and the blessing of the promptings of the Holy Ghost we decided that Adam would drive me across town to my doctor's appointment at 2 pm and finish the work day at a cafe near the hospital.
At my appointment I explained the contraction-type feelings I had been having in addition to the pressure and asked if I could do anything about the latter. Comedian that my doctor was he said "give birth." But those were all normal symptoms the last few weeks, and I was probably right that they were just braxton hicks contractions. Then he examined me and said he had good news for me. I was 100% effaced and dilated to a 5! I don't think he was expecting me to lose it with his "good news." But lose it I did, apologizing for my reaction and trying to accept his assurances that everything would be okay. He told me to go across the street and check in to labor and delivery. I of course then had to explain where my husband was and asked if I had time to go get my bag at home as well. Since this was my first, he didn't see any major problem with that, other than my water might break in the car. Once he gave me that pass I tried to get even more time (I had errands to run!) and asked if I could wait to go to the hospital until I was at the 4-1-1 they had taught us in birthing class. That's when he looked at me like I was crazy and kindly informed me I was way past that. He clued me into the fact that I had past the early stages of labor and was now in active labor. He left to call the hospital to let them know I was coming, and I got dressed and sat, waiting...and waiting...and waiting. I was in total shock. I didn't know what I was supposed to do next. Did he say he would come back in and get me? Was I supposed to just leave? After what seemed like an eternity I poked my head out the door and he again looked at me like I was crazy and asked why I was still here. He'd thought I'd left already. Oops!
So I called Adam and told him I was coming to get him, and that we were having a baby a little earlier than expected. Then I called my mom with some hope she could do the mom thing and make it stop. She couldn't. So we went home, quickly finished packing our bags, said good-bye to Mushu, and called our friends who graciously agreed to come pick her up and have her spend the night/day with them.
When we got the hospital my doctor, Dr. Congor, and the nurse assigned to me, were standing at the front desk waiting. As I was settling into my room the nurse made the mistake of saying she knew a friend who was dilated to a 5 for a week. Instantly I stopped unpacking, and asked Dr. Conger why couldn't that be me? Why don't I just go home and see. He quickly set me straight. I was having this baby, and not in a week, but that night.
Dr. Conger had been on call the night before, so he let me know which of his colleagues was on. And knowing me, he made sure to give me instructions not to wait for him to come back in the morning, and to just have the baby tonight with Dr. Broms. I relented, well sort of, but that's getting ahead of myself. I did however refuse their offer to break my water. I saw no need in speeding things up.
We had gotten to the hospital around 6 pm, which was about the time of shift changes for nurses. So my first nurse left, and my new nurse came. Can I tell you how much I LOVED my hospital and the nurses? They have a 1:1 nurse ratio when you deliver. So I had a nurse assigned to just me, and a nurse assigned to baby when he came (but I think he had to share if there were any other babies born that night). I LOVED LOVED LOVED my nurse. She was AMAZING. She asked me how I wanted things to go, and supported me in whatever I wanted.
I explained to her that I wasn't anti-epidural, but wanted to try to go natural. 50% because I wanted to have control of my body, and woman have been giving birth for centuries, without drugs, and 50% because I HATE needles. Okay, let's be honest it was more because the thought of someone sticking a huge needle in my back made me freak out.
At this point I was about 6 cm. And honestly I didn't think it was that bad. I had mainly back labor. So we walked, I sat on the birthing ball, leaned against the bed, swayed with Adam, all in all this was totally manageable. She would ask me occasionally where I was on the drug thing. It was always a question of the thought of the needle sound better than the pain of the contractions. And so far it was no, the contractions were manageable. At around 11 that night I was starting to get more uncomfortable and was ready for a change, so I went into the jacuzzi. That felt sooo good, at first. I was in there for about an hour, and then it became a situation where I was ready to get out, and get going. When you are that far into labor, and as big as a blimp, it's a little awkward climbing out. But I got out, got to my room and the fun really began.
The contractions were about a minute, to a minute in a half apart at this point and I was now at 9 1/2 cm. I don't know if it was the news that I would be pushing soon, or going to be a mom, or just plain fatigue that did me in. But when the nurse told me I was almost ready to push I looked at Adam and said I was done. The needle now sounded like relief rather than torture. I am so grateful the nurse suggested I have some narcotics through my IV to calm my nerves as we waited for the anesthesiologist. He was at home by that point in the evening since I was the only one in labor and hadn't requested an epidural. He only took about 20 min. to get there and drug me up though. Adam says watching the needle go in my back was one of the worse things he's ever seen. And the nurse laughed and agreed that I really did hate needles. I handled contractions (all the way up to 9 1/2 cms!) MUCH better than the few minutes it took to give me the epidural. I warned them didn't I? Thank goodness she suggested I get the other drug to calm me first.
At that point it was past midnight and she turned out the lights so we could rest for a bit while the epidural took affect. When she came in a little after 1 am I couldn't feel anything. I was completely numb. Plus I was really cold and super shaky, an apparent side effect of an epidural. Can I just say I HATED everything about that epidural. I felt no pressure when she examined me and didn't know how I was going to push. So the anesthesiologist came in and turned down the meds and we waited another hour. Finally I could feel pressure again. It was time to push. Well first they had to brake my water.
I pushed for about 20 minutes. She said I was pushing really well. She could see the baby's head, more so when I pushed. We stopped to take a break, and that's when things became more complicated. I starting throwing up, and she pretty much ignored me as I asked if that was normal. For good reason, which made me even more scared. She was busy monitoring the baby's heartrate and calling for the doctor. The baby's heartrate had dropped to around 30. In recovery he spiked above 200. None of this was good, but thankfully they were all very calm, just very matter of fact. Dr. Broms came in, examined me and the baby's vital signs. He had recovered and was staying stable. He was going to let me push one more time but said it would be in the OR. So that if the heartrate dropped again they could have him out in 5 minutes or less.
That was one of the scariest moments in my entire life. I am so grateful for all of the nurses, doctors, and Adam for staying calm. I am incredibly grateful for the priesthood and the comforting blessing Adam had given me when we had first arrived at the hospital. So they wheeled me down to the OR and I just remember hearing the nurse keep repeating, someone needs to get daddy scrubs. Adam and I were separated for what felt like an eternity, but I'm sure was only a couple of minutes, while he was outfitted in some hottie scrubs (seriously, I'm still bummed he had to give them back for security purposes the next morning).
At this point the anesthesiologist cranked up my epidural so I had no feeling again. That combined with the freezing cold OR made me shake worse than ever. The assisting OB for the cesarean was actually my OB. So I was very grateful for him (despite the craziness, there were definitely lots of little miracles that night like that). He came in and joked I wasn't supposed to wait for him. He also was so sweet and covered me in extra blankets and rubbed my back cracking jokes while the team prepped the OR/me. After his examination he suggested that we go ahead with the cesarean and not do a final push due to the baby's position.
The actual cesarean wasn't as bad as I had imagined. I of course felt nothing. But the after part was less than ideal. My arms were strapped down so when they pulled Sam out I couldn't hold him. Of course Adam and I both cried when he came out. They made poor Adam look while they pulled him out. I think he about passed out :) Our first reaction when we heard Sam was "he sounds like a duck." Seriously! In all the craziness of getting to the OR, the camera was left in my room. I'm sad we don't have his first cries on camera. But I guess I could just record some ducks at a pond and I'm pretty sure it would be the same thing. Adam went to the nursery with Sam. Our little guy scored a 9 out of 10 on the Apgar score. I know they say it doesn't really matter, but I'm still proud!
Just for my own amusing memory, when they were stapling me back up I had what's called a phantom spot. I just yelled "ouch" it was so weird. But for some reason feeling had come back to one corner of the incision so they had to give me a few shots to numb me back up so they could finish stapling me closed.
In recovery my blood pressure was less than stellar and they were wanting to monitor Sam's breathing. So I wasn't allowed to hold him until he was several hours old. I think I was starting to annoy my nurse by asking every 5 minutes if I could feed him yet. But every book I had read said a newborn should be fed within the first hour for optimal feeding. They at least let Adam hold Sam next to me while they monitored my vitals.
Holding Sam for the first time was completely amazing and somewhat surreal. He was and still is the sweetest baby. I'm sure Adam will agree that I watch too many check flicks. But I think all those movies made me build up an idea that there would be some overwhelming, indescribable bonding moment. Holding him though felt so natural, and like no big deal because he was supposed to be and always was a part of our lives.
As for how Sam got his name, we still had no name when we went to the hospital. In fact he was almost named Peter after the anesthesiologist. We were asking all the doctor's names in recovery. And Peter beat out my OB, Allard. The up side of having a c-section was the extended hospital stay to pick out a name. Samuel was a name Adam had suggested when we first found out it was a boy, but for some reason had been dropped off our list. His middle name was by default, and I liked how it sounded. Plus coming up with the first name took 5 days in the hosptial, and I wasn't going to stay another 5 to get a middle name :)
