E’s Birth Story.

At twelve weeks along, I was told that due to H’s birthsize and my size I wouldn’t be carrying this baby past 38 weeks.

At twenty weeks, Miss E was right on track growth wise.

At thirty five weeks, the doctor said she just hoped I’d make it to thirty six weeks.

And at thirty nine weeks and three days I finally delivered a beautiful, healthy baby girl.

But, oh, what a journey it was.

From five weeks to nearly six months I was sick. Really sick. Like can’t keep anything down, go to the hospital for fluids, need prescription medication sick.

And then there was that fateful Election Day where I went in for a routine exam and ended up being admitted to the Birthing Center with lots of concerns on if I’d be delivering five weeks early. Completely effaced. Already dillating. Contracting without my knowledge. (I am one of those lucky ones who didn’t feel many contractions either time.)

From then on, I was on alert.

“Any day, any day.” The doctor would say after each twice a week exam.

And each day I’d wake up wondering if today would be the day.

My labor with H had been quick. And they warned me that the second one would be even quicker.

At thirty nine weeks, I waddled in. Much larger around than ever. Tired. Uncomfortable. Impatient.

“Tonight or tomorrow.” The doctor said after that visit.

Four centimeters dillated and he sent me home and told me to come back in the morning if my water didn’t break before then.

It didn’t.

And on December 3,

J and I walked off the elevator and down the hall and listened to a nurse rattle off question after question.

“When was the last time you used illegal drugs?”
“Do you feel safe in all your relationships?”
“Do you have any religious practices you’d like to incorporate in your labor?”

All the while I was anxious and nervous and wondering when she’d ever check my cervix as I knew a baby was on the way.

The blood pressure cuff strapped to my arm monitoring my ever-low blood pressure.

She strapped on a heart monitor to hear baby’s heart, yet still didn’t check my cervix.

She wanted to start an IV for penicillin as I tested positive for strep B. (A common infection among pregnant women that must be treated four hours before delivery to avoid passing on to the baby.)

I warned that IV’s and I have problems.

She laughed at my warning.

Then missed my veins, bruising my right arm from elbow crease to wrist.

Another nurse comes in. Starts poking the other arm. And quickly an alarm goes off.

There is yelling.

They aren’t picking up baby’s heartbeat.

My blood pressure is too low.

My water breaks.

A doctor I’ve never seen runs in and decides to put a heart monitor on the baby’s head and there is a deafening silence and scary looks among the many who are now in the room.

She yells that it’s time to go to the OR.

I begin to cry as they throw scrubs at J and rush out of the birthing suite.

This was not my plan. This was not how it was supposed to be.

All the way down the hall, my mind is racing of oh no’s and what if’s and why’s?

In the OR, it is cold, it is sterile and I am afraid.

A man above my head stretches both my arms out and tells me that I’ll be going to sleep.

“No,” I said, “I thought you got to be awake for c-sections?”

“Not yours.” He said.

The room was hustling and bustling and crazy busy but just then the doctor yelled out, “Hold on. Let’s give the baby another second here.”

Silence and then, once again, those ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dumps came right back up.

They let J in and shortly later moved us back to our room.

With one bruised arm and another with an IV halfway poked, I told my nurse that I was beginning to feel the need to push.

She quickly dismissed that idea and after starting a line of Penicillin, went to go have lunch.

I. AM. SO. NOT. KIDDING.

Another nurse came in and I told her the same thing.

“Umm yeah. You’re about to have a baby.” She said after checking me. And then called the doctor saying I was at a 10 plus 1.

Twenty-eight minutes later, E was here.

She really was (and is) worth it all.

(Written and posted on 10/3/09, but I’m backdating it)