Gametes In Love

G is here! He was born early this morning via an unplanned c-section at 3:45am. He weighs in at 6.6lbs is 19in long and is incredibly precious to us. We can’t stop staring at him in amazement: 1) in that he’s ours; 2) in that he is just so awe-inspiring; and 3 (at least for me) that he fit in me just 24 hours ago! This last day has been very emotional for us: lots of happy tears, lots of kisses, and gentle caresses. It’s incredible how in just a few short moments a little person can help bind a couple even closer.

For those that wanted the highlights, you can stop reading now. The rest what follows is his birth story. For the faint of heart, it may contain some yucky material, so you’ve been warned.

As our previous post related I had a regularly scheduled appt w/ my OB at 10:45. During that visit she observed that I was at 1.5cm dilated and was having a contraction in her presence (even though I couldn’t feel it). Leaving her office S and I went out for lunch, which looking back on it was a brilliant move given the events that ensued shortly afterwards. During lunch I noticed some more contractions. Mild, spaced out.

When we got home, I noticed even more contractions – still mild, still spaced out. For those curious (and can relate), they felt like light menstrual cramps. I thought to myself “Let’s go shower and shave, because if this moves forward today I might as well be ready”. While I was in the shower, in the span of those 40 minutes, I had another 4 contractions, each becoming a little bit more intense. I found myself squatting on the floor or bracing myself up against the wall and beginning to do the techniques we had learned in class. I think it was about 2pm at this time.

S had some phone conferences in the afternoon, so he started those. He gave me his phone (a Palm Pilot), for which he had downloaded a contraction tracking application on. I started hitting Start & End at this time, and noticed that I was consistently seeing my contractions around every 10 minutes, lasting over 30 seconds.

I started having the urge to go to the bathroom more and more now. I gotta say, after a few months of pregnancy-related constipation, the stuff your body produces right before labor is a very welcome change! The urges even to pee got stronger, so I just started walking around the house in my panties… and eventually I even gave up on those.

My contractions kept increasing in frequency. All of a sudden, in the last 30 minutes of S’ work calls, I was consistently seeing them shorten to 5mins apart, lasting a minute, or well over a minute each time. This was happening fast! Surprisingly fast to be honest. I have to admit, looking back on it, I am thrilled S had decided to work from home as much as possible over the last week. If he was in the office when this all started, and I had to call him, I don’t think he would have made it home in time to get everything ready for us to go… and trust me, at that state, I was on the floor rocking myself into relaxation and in no condition to help load up the car, feed the kitty, or close up the house. We called the doc’s office around 5:30 after having a little over an hour of 5-1-1 contractions. We were told to start making our way to the hospital. Those were perhaps some of the hardest 12 minutes of driving for me. In getting to the car alone I had 1-2 contractions, and while I was in the car, I think I had 3. Sitting up, while contracting? Not comfortable!

When we got to the desk at L&D I was hunched over forward, going through yet another contraction. The lady at the desk, perhaps not seeing me… or just being funny, looks up and asks “What are you guys here for?” I think I wanted to throw a shoe at her for that question. I waddled over to our labor room slowly and got into the stylish gowns they provide and got checked. I was already 5cm dilated.

In the next 2-3 hours, I had progressed to 8cm. I lost my plug (over the toilet), and my water broke at about 7:30pm. I was so proud of myself. I was thinking “We could have a baby by midnight!” I was still tolerating the contractions well on my own and was happy to not have needed to ask for drugs. I spent my development between rocking myself in the bed on my side, rocking on all fours, rocking myself lying down on my back, rocking myself while standing propped up on the dining table, and rocking myself on the toilet seat. Notice a theme there? Rocking was key to making myself get through contractions and mellowing out afterwards. I had gone through The Plateau, and what I felt was the beginning of Transition. I had urges to push through my contractions, and I started to. The nurse said that technically this wasn’t good, but since I was making good progress to continue doing what I was going.

Then things started to go fishy. An hour later, I was still only at around 8.5cm and my cervix was still present and swelling up to boot. We waited some more. My OB came in and checked me herself. She said that she’s noticing me dilated only to 7cm and my cervix was getting progressively more inflamed. I was so disheartened! This feeling alone, I’m sure contributed to the stall that happened. I was told to stop pushing with contractions. You have no idea how hard this was. At 11pm, my OB came in and assessed there had been no change. To boot, she observed that G was lying transverse (facing my hips rather than front or back). She tried turning him, with no luck. Although my OB has been incredibly supportive of our un-medicated birth approach (it’s actually her preferred approach), she was seeing that we might need some pharmaceutical intervention. She recommended Pitocin to see if that could kick start things again, and maybe through my increased contractions G would turn on his own. S and I talked about it in private and asked for an hour to try and induce things on our own. It didn’t work. I’ll be honest, I felt like I was failing and that the need for the medication was my fault. Having S tell me otherwise wasn’t enough. I had to hear it from a nurse.

It was now almost midnight. I threw up! I had always known that this physical reaction was not uncommon and as I asked for S to get me my bucket, it was all over the floor. I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, but I was drinking lots of water (as told that a person in labor should). What came out was pretty much pure water. As S scrambled, he was barefoot and slipped and fell. So here I am, in bed, not able to stop throwing up, watching my wonderful, supportive husband splat on his back in my sick. It was terrible!

I got my IV in for the Pitocin. I hate needles, as you by now know. Although IVF and all the testing have helped this some, it’s still not anything pleasant for me. After 2 hours of increasing Pitocin there was no progress, either in my dilation, the swelling, or G’s position. What’s worse is that the monitoring I was on showed that with each contraction G’s heart rate was dropping. When it came to a dangerously close level we were told that we needed to move forward to a c-section. When the equipment to move forward with surgery was lining up around the door and the nurses/OB were starting to shuffle you realize this isn’t really a choice. This wasn’t anything that either S nor I wanted, but we had both agreed that our ultimate goal is to deliver our son safely. At this point I was already exhausted, and I just felt that my body had done all that it can. I believe my statement of consent was “Let’s cut this little guy out!” It was now 2:30am.

I was ushered to the operating room. The anesthesiologist gave me a spinal tap. I won’t lie to you, after all the exhaustion, feeling numb felt so good! I lied down, started to shiver and I was out… asleep. Not from the medication, but I was just drained. I woke up to S on my right, hearing G’s little voice fill the room. Apparently the first words out of my mouth were “Is he still a boy?” I heard them announce his weight, and his height. He sounded good. They took him out of the surgery room into the NICU for his tests. S went with him, while I curiously observed my OB and a scrub nurse close me up through the reflection of the surgery room doors.

They took me to a recovery room for awhile, where I slept some. It felt like S and G were taking a while to come back. When they did, I asked to nurse, which, although not easy, was pretty successful through the help of our nurse. Afterwards, G and S again went away to take his first bath. The one thing that’s terrible with a c-section is that you miss out on so much! I feel so fortunate to have S be here for all of this. Honestly, he’s ran the show over the last day. The poor man is exhausted, from helping me, being there for G. He’s been incredible and I genuinely would not have gotten through the day without his help and support. I feel very blessed to have him in my life!

G is otherwise a very happy baby. He sleeps very well (at least he did today). We’re learning how to feed. It’s been difficult, but I’m committed to nursing so we’ll see how it works out.

With that, I’ll leave you with some photos of our labor. They were taken by Augie, who graciously agreed to join us and document our journey. After things started going wacky Augie left us in private. I feel fortunate that we have what we do at least of the good parts. Enjoy!