lucy's birth story
The night of Wednesday, March 7, I was feeling a little crampy and thought I had eaten something funny (which, technically, I accidentally ate a pasta salad from the grocery store deli that had chicken in it, and my anxiety-riddled brain was convinced I was going to get listeria). I woke up to a few contractions in the middle of the night and chalked it up to a stomachache. I wasn't too worried—I had my 34 week doctors appointment scheduled for Thursday mid-morning and decided to ask my doctor about it then.
Thursday morning I still felt crampy but tried to focus on work. At 11:00 a.m., I left work, told everyone I'd be working from home the rest of the day, and went to my doctor's appointment. After waiting forever and a half, I finally saw the doctor and mentioned I had a few contractions. She monitored me in the office, and sure enough, I was contracting several times within a ten minute period. And the contractions were strong enough that a nurse came to ask me, "Did you feel those?" Why yes, yes I did.
After monitoring me for about an hour, my doctor swabbed me for fetal fibronectin (it's a protein that indicates labor might be imminent) and checked my cervix for dilation. I was dilated to 2 cm and about 70% effaced. Because it takes a few hours to run the fetal fibronectin test, the doctor recommended that I go to the hospital for more monitoring, “Just in case.”
At this point, I wasn't worried—just hungry (I hadn't eaten anything except for a granola bar at breakfast). I called David and told him I was running over to the hospital and "wouldn't it be funny if I was actually in labor?" I told him, “I don't think it's that big of a deal. Don't worry about leaving work.” But David didn't listen to me and said he'd come just in case and that he'd bring me a sandwich. He's a nice guy, that David.
I went to the hospital and Labor and Delivery hooked me up to the monitors. Unfortunately, when David pulled out my sandwich, the nurse kindly instructed him to eat it instead and restricted me to clear liquids. So, like the gentleman he is, David went out into the hall and ate my sandwich while I ate jello (since jello is obviously a clear liquid).
My contractions started to get steadily worse and closer and closer together throughout the afternoon (as one nurse said, I was really banging them out). A nurse checked me again after a few hours, and I was dilated to 3 cm, still 70% effaced, and the baby had descended a bit further.
My contractions started to get steadily worse and closer and closer together throughout the afternoon (as one nurse said, I was really banging them out). A nurse checked me again after a few hours, and I was dilated to 3 cm, still 70% effaced, and the baby had descended a bit further.
L&D gave me a series of four nifedipine pills to try to stop labor, but the nifedipine only worked for about half an hour before my contractions came back. At that point, they gave me my first betamethasone shot to try to help speed up the baby's lung development in case they couldn't stop labor. We also met with someone from the hospital's special care nursery (kind of like a NICU) to talk about what to expect when you are suddenly expecting a preemie. At this point, things started to feel real, and I started to gear myself up to give birth that night.
Around 7:00 p.m., I finally convinced the nurse to let me eat real food. I had a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup and declared that these two foods would be our baby's godparents.
As a last ditch effort, L&D gave me a shot of terbutaline. Because betamethasone requires two doses within a 24 hour period to be the most effective, our goal was to try to make baby girl delay her grand entrance until Friday afternoon. And surprise! My contractions stopped within an hour. Hallelujah! L&D monitored me again and eventually wheeled me over to postpartum to spend the night.
I was exhausted—especially after being in active labor for most of the day (not to mention all of the medicine L&D gave me to try to stop labor). But sleeping in a hospital is about as fun as sleeping on a redeye flight. Fortunately, they discharged us that morning because I had met my goal of staying out of labor. David and I went home, and I slept until it was time to go back to the hospital again to get the second betamethazone shot (it was a stinger).
After all of that drama, the last five and a half weeks of pregnancy dragged on and on and on and on. Every twinge, cramp, ache, and pain causing me to wonder, “Is this it?” I did my best to follow my doctor's instructions to limit myself to “light activity around the house” (not strict bed rest per se, but significantly slowing things down), with a goal of making it to 37 weeks. From weeks 34 through 37, I felt pretty good, even though I was contracting off and on.
And we made it to 37 weeks! In my mind, I thought I was done, but my doctor said, "Great work! Now let's make it to week 39!" At this point the prodromal labor kicked in with a vengeance, and at nearly 38 weeks, I thought I was in labor again with contractions coming under 3 minutes apart. So we went to the hospital, but PSYCH, my cervix wasn't changing, so I wasn't considered to actually be in labor and they sent me home (as in, David took me to Zupas so I could eat some hard earned chocolate cake).
And we made it to 37 weeks! In my mind, I thought I was done, but my doctor said, "Great work! Now let's make it to week 39!" At this point the prodromal labor kicked in with a vengeance, and at nearly 38 weeks, I thought I was in labor again with contractions coming under 3 minutes apart. So we went to the hospital, but PSYCH, my cervix wasn't changing, so I wasn't considered to actually be in labor and they sent me home (as in, David took me to Zupas so I could eat some hard earned chocolate cake).
I started walking lots after that to see if I could jump start things because there was no way that I would actually make it to 39 weeks. But despite going into labor nearly every night, no such luck. It seemed like every night I would say to David, "I think this is it." And then a few hours later, the contractions would fizzle out and it was as if nothing had ever happened.
At my 39 week appointment, I nearly burst into tears because I was so tired (I had been up most of the night before bouncing on a birthing ball. Good times.). My doctor, who was just as surprised as I was that I was still pregnant, was incredibly kind and offered to induce me a few days later on Sunday, April 15, when she was on-call. David and I looked at each other for a moment, I asked him what he thought, and he said, “I don't care. Go for it.”
At my 39 week appointment, I nearly burst into tears because I was so tired (I had been up most of the night before bouncing on a birthing ball. Good times.). My doctor, who was just as surprised as I was that I was still pregnant, was incredibly kind and offered to induce me a few days later on Sunday, April 15, when she was on-call. David and I looked at each other for a moment, I asked him what he thought, and he said, “I don't care. Go for it.”
Around 11:30 p.m., the nurse said things might pick up if we broke my water. But she cautioned me that things could progress pretty quickly after that and that I would likely be in a lot more pain because the amniotic sac would no longer be cushioning my pelvis from the baby's head. I was really hesitant to have my water broken (the cascade of interventions and all of that jazz). David and I talked for a little bit, and he kindly suggested that we just get it over with. Considering that I had only dilated 2 cm in 10 hours of regular contractions and maxed out on pitocin, I decided that we might as well try breaking my water. So, we called the nurse back in and said, “All right. Let's do this.” (I also had the thought, "Maybe now is a good time to get an epidural so I can sleep tonight . . . ." Famous last words.)
My doctor, who decided to spend the night at the hospital so that she could be there when this baby actually arrived (she is such an awesome doctor), came in and broke my water at about 12:30 a.m. (#notataxbaby). I started to text my mom an update, but just a few words into saying, “They just broke my water,” I was hit with an incredibly painful contraction and couldn't focus enough to finish my text. And shazam, it was show time.
My contractions were incredibly fast, furious, and painful. The nurse checked me a few minutes later, and I was at 7 ½ cm. I knelt and clutched the back of the bed and David rubbed my back through each contraction (at least, I think it was David. I was so focused on getting through each contraction that it could have been a random stranger for all I knew).
After a few more contractions, I started to feel the urge to push, and the nurse checked me again. I was at 9 cm. At this point, I was in an incredible amount of pain. A few contractions later, I cried out, “I need to push! I need to push!” I wasn't quite yet at 10 cm, so the doctor cleared the rest of my cervix out of the way so that I could do so (because let's be honest, I was going to push regardless. It was kind of unavoidable). At this point, I was lying on the bed on my side, gripping the side of the bed with my left hand and David's hand with my right hand. They brought in a mirror so I could see myself push, which was such a helpful thing. Someone held up my leg (not sure who) so I could push.
My nether regions burned as I pushed through each contraction. Because I really wasn't prepared for the pain, all breathing exercises went out the window. I remember crying out (David says I screamed and said, “No no no no no,” which he told me after the fact was rather comical since there really wasn't any going back). But I do remember saying “Sam and Lucy. Lucy and Sam” over and over again in my head. Trying to picture my two children together gave me something to focus on instead of the watermelon that was barreling down my birth canal.
After several pushes, Lucy's head started to emerge. In between contractions, the doctor started playing with Lucy's hair, which despite all of the goop was very blonde and over an inch long. Seeing Lucy start to come out helped me to not get discouraged since pushing is a two steps forward, one step back sort of ordeal (although, to be honest, part of me was screaming, "Just get her out already! You can play with her hair when all of her is out!")
I think I pushed 5 or 6 times before Lucy's head was most of the way out. At that point, the doctor and nurses got frantic and said, “You have to get her out. Hold your breath and push!” At this point, I felt so done and honestly did not think that I had the strength to push any more. But the strength to push Lucy's head and shoulders the rest of the way out came from somewhere. It's hard to explain, but suffice it to say that the strength was not my own and I received help to get Lucy here.
Lucy was born at 1:44 a.m., just over an hour after the doctor broke my water. As soon as they finished pulling Lucy out and suctioned her out a bit, they placed her on my chest. I could immediately tell that she was a big baby—bigger than Sam. She cried for a moment, and then promptly fell asleep on my chest. We snuggled for awhile as I delivered the placenta (so cool!) and the doctor stitched me up (a second degree tear). David and I kept looking at each other and Lucy in awe. Things happened so very fast. And yes, I wished I would have had an epidural.
My mom brought Sam to meet Lucy later Monday morning. She had taken him to the store to buy Lucy a toy and he was so incredibly sweet when he gave it to her. He kept saying, “Oh! She is so cute!” and looked at her in awe. It was a really tender moment for me. I still cry tears of happiness when I think about it (thanks, hormones). Sam visited us in the “hopipital” again later that night.
Lucy had her first bath Monday afternoon. She was terribly grumpy when the nurse washed her body. But the nurse wrapped her up in a towel, and while she washed Lucy's hair, Lucy promptly fell asleep. We were amazed.
We stayed in the hospital until Tuesday afternoon. David had a terrible cold and was so miserable. Luckily Lucy never caught the cold (although me and Sam did). My mom kept Sam an additional night so David and I could rest a little more. It was so nice having Sam come home Wednesday. Even though it has been a bit of an adjustment, he has done so very well. He is sweet with Lucy, and Lucy is still a sweet and calm baby. I am so grateful to be home with my family. For now, I feel complete.
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