The Long Belated Birth Story of S (aka Poppy)

I cannot believe that little S is coming up on two years old. I always meant to put down on paper the events of her birth, but never got around to it. Now that I am only nine weeks away from delivering her baby brother, I figured it was time to get it done before I had to try to mentally separate memories of two births.

 It all started Sunday night, Oct. 16 2011. Just before going to bed, I realized that S hadn’t been moving very much. Something reminded me that that was a reason to call the dr’s office, yet I didn’t feel any sense of alarm. I had an appointment the very next morning, and decided to go in when the office opened to see if they could see me early. I got up and took my shower, wondering if maybe something would happen today and I would have my baby girl sooner than expected, I was only a week shy of my due date. I thought over the date in my head—October 17^th sounded like a good birthday, for some reason October 18^th sounded better, but oh well. My favorite nurse, Marin, was very surprised to see me there so early and reminded me that my appointment wasn’t for another hour. I told her why I was there and she took me back to one of the exam rooms and hooked me up to a machine to monitor fetal movements. I was monitored for an hour until my appointment with Dr. L. S was moving, not a whole lot, but I knew nothing was wrong with her. Dr. L came in reviewing the information on my chart and, without even looking up at me, casually asked, “ So why don’t we go ahead and have this baby?” I’m pretty sure my jaw dropped, really?! Today?! He said there was nothing wrong with S, but that the only benefit to waiting for me to go into labor naturally was that the labor and delivery would be easier on me—so why not induce just to be on the safe side for S? I said ok and he said they could induce me at the hospital either this afternoon or the next morning, which did I prefer? I said I needed to talk to my husband.

I giddily called Mr. Baker and asked him if he wanted to become a father today or tomorrow. He was just as stunned as I (Andrew-said “well….let’s bring her home as soon as we can!), we decided to induce that afternoon. On my way out one of the nurses advised me to eat a light lunch. I will forever regret my decision to listen to her advice. Mr. Baker took me out to lunch at Great Harvest as a last date before we became parents. We were both terribly excited. We picked up my pre packed hospital bag—a Halloween bag with the words “Trick or Treat” printed on it (what’s the point of having a baby close to a major holiday if you’re not going to have a little fun with it, right?). In side were numerous items I would not use at all while in the hospital.

After getting settled into our room and changed into my hospital gown, the nurse started me on Pitocin. The contractions weren’t much to begin with, I started doing some crochet, but quickly abandoned it, I was too excited to concentrate. There was nothing on TV, either. Getting up to go to the bathroom was quite the performance. I had monitors around my tummy and towers trailing along—what a production. When contractions got more intense and I got bored with sitting in bed, I decided to walk around some—NEWS FLASH FROM THE NURSES: You’re not allowed to leave the labor and delivery section of the hospital, you basically have to walk laps around the nurses station. That was boring and kind of awkward, to say the least. Walking didn’t last long for the aforementioned reasons.  I tried out the Jacuzzi tub they had, and that actually worked well, though at some point I told Mr. Baker not to talk to me during my contractions. The nurse eventually came by and told me I had to get out of the tub—I should have said no. I sent Mr. Baker to go get himself something to eat while I returned to my bed—BIGGEST MISTAKE OF MY LABOR. After I got out of that luxuriantly, boiling hot water I could really feel those contractions. I just wanted to lay down and have a good sleep, but my contractions were intense and only three minutes apart lasting one minute long. I thought I was prepared for this, but somewhere between getting out of the tub and getting back into bed, I lost my control on the pain. The contractions racked my body and I just wanted my Mr. Baker to be by my side for comfort. The nurse said she had to ask me, since I was alone, if I felt comfortable and safe taking my baby home (IE: did I live in an abusive home). I quickly gasped my answer before she really finished, and then asked her to PLEASE go find my husband—I needed him back here. I was starving and stole two French fries from Mr. Baker when he came back from the cafeteria. I was never able to get back on top of the pain, though. The nurse came and checked me. I told myself that if I was at least to a six, I could do this without pain medication. I had been laboring for six hours by this time. I came into the hospital already dilated to a two. I was now at a four. I asked for the epidural.

Before, I thought getting an epidural would be much like getting Novocain at the dentist’s office—that funny, numb sensation. I was happily surprised to find that an epidural was more a warm, tingly, relaxing sensation. My left side numbed first, so I just rolled onto my right and the medicine trickled down my right side too. I was quite comfortable and slept very well, except for my low blood pressure setting off the alarm repeatedly. The nurse made me lie on my other side, my epidural started wearing off a bit . I was hungry, the nurse gave me the option of ice chips or jello—spare me. I just kept to sipping water. Three or four hours after receiving my epidural, I woke up with the urge to push. I pushed and pushed and pushed everything out of me except for a baby. I threw up some of that water I had been drinking (but not the French fries, mind you : ) ) and wished I had just had a really good meal before going into labor—who cares that I threw up, I’m in a hospital for goodness sake. I pushed for three or four hours, but it felt like only fifteen minutes or so—time seemed to fly. I was so determined not to have a c-section, I could have pushed for forever. As it turns out, S was face up and her head was tilted a little to the side making it harder to get out. My epidural started wearing off all over, but this I didn’t mind so much because I knew I would be able to push more effectively. Dr. L finally came and after a vacuum and an almost episiotomy, baby S was born, in the wee hours of October 18^th, 2011!

It was so surreal having them place S in my arms, I oh so maturely asked “she IS a girl, right?” just to confirm. I had to tell myself this was my baby. It was just one of those moments you don’t quite no what to think of it. I didn’t know what to do, I guess I should kiss her, this little Asian alien baby they just gave me. We briefly skyped my parents and showed off the little Asian alien princess. I attempting nursing for the first time, then some nursing students gave  S her first bath while  other nurses prepped me to go to my new room. I took a very nice nap and Mr. Baker took a very unflattering picture of me. I cannot begin to describe the pangs of horrific, torturous pain that shot through my body after I woke up from my nap and tried to go to the bathroom. I had broken my tailbone. Now, almost two years later, I still feel the effects of that. All that tremendous, unconscionable discomfort was worth it when the nurses brought in the sweetest little bundle of beautiful you will ever come to know. S was perfectly quiet and watchful with big blue eyes and LOTS of black, downy hair. The next couple of days in the hospital were a blur of trying to bear with the pain of my broken tailbone, fawning over our perfect angel, and sleeping while the lovely nurses took care of S for me when I was tired. Then came the evening we were to leave for home. I remember getting choked up about leaving our hospital room, where our little family had spent such a happy few days together. I had spent months crocheting a little “going home” outfit for S but then opted not to put it on her because I was afraid she might be strangled by the little ties for the whole 90 seconds it would take to get from the hospital to our house four blocks away. She was utterly swimming in the little baby nightgown I dressed her in instead. When I placed her in her car seat, she looked utterly miniscule. We brought our little bundle of love home. One of the first things I did was accidently hit her head against a chair because I turned too quickly with her in my arms. She didn’t cry hardly—I sobbed. How on earth was she going to survive the night in our house?! It was not as clean of the hospital and I remember my mind reeling at the thought that Mr. Baker and I would both go unconscious for hours with no one keeping an eye on our little one—surely it would be impossible for her to maintain life unsupervised! Mr. Baker calmed my fears and we both settled into bed with the little princess close by in her Moses basket.

I set out to be a very dutiful little mother. The hospital told me she needed to nurse every two hours and I thought it would be best if I woke up before she did, so thus I set my alarm. I woke up baby S and tried to feed her, but she would have none of it and was very upset that I woke her up. I finally gave up and decided to try again in an hour—no go there either. Finally I threw in the towel and decided to just wait until she “asked” for food. Lucky for us, S came home naturally on a feeding cycle of four hours. She’d sleep for three, wake up hungry, stay awake long enough to nurse, be changed, and be cooed over, then went to sleep for another three hours (at nights, sometimes longer). S was an excellent little newborn. Thus began our life together as a little family of three, S has continued to win our hearts and be our little angel baby ever since the day she was born.