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 17th
sounded like a good birthday, for some reason October 18th 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 18th,
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.
