By 10:30, we had put Scarlett's new bedding in her crib and had JUST finished putting her stroller and carseat together. Jake wheeled it through the house and into the nursery. I was sitting on the living room couch, reading the instructions for the stroller (don't know why). Jake walked in, began to ask me something and I felt this GUSH like I had just peed my pants. I shot straight up while sitting and gasped the biggest gasp I've ever done. Jake looked at me and said "What is it?" I instantly ran to the bathroom, and checked it out. I (according to Jake) had this shocked and panicked look on my face like something was terribly wrong. Again he asked me "What's wrong". All I could say was "My water just broke".
10:35pm: Jake grabbed my phone and I called L&D. The nurse warned me that if it was indeed my water breaking (or broken), that it would continue to flow and to be careful. I took a quick shower, put on some clean clothes and called my parents and sister in law to tell them what happened. After that, I called our neighbor across the street to ask her to watch the house/cats while we were gone. We hadn't packed a hospital bag (it was on the to-do list for the next day), so we were frantically trying to get everything in the bag. Also, we had just gotten the carseat, so it wasn't installed yet. Jake tried, in the dark and rain to install the base, but couldn't. We decided to just put the carseat in the car and worry about it when we got there. I told him he could always go to the local fire department and have them install it for us if need be.
11:30pm: We arrived at Walnut Creek Kaiser and got to L&D triage. I was checked in and changed into what would be my outfit for the next 48 hours. They looked and indeed my water had "grossly ruptured" (verbatim from the nurse) and had an ultrasound done. Thank God baby was still head down. I had a chance to do a vaginal delivery, which I wasn't going to have if she was breech again. While in triage, we were told my parents had arrived, but they couldn't come in until I was given a room. The doctor on duty was a petite lady with spiral curly blond hair, which apparently matched her personality. At one point, she said to me "I'm thinking...because that's what you do with your brain". I thought to myself "Oh great, if she's it, I'm in for one hell of a ride here".
3/20 12:30-1am: A nurse named Lolly came in to give my IV, my first one without local anesthesia. I had one before while having my wisdom teeth out, but I was numbed up first. She decided to go with a saline block on my left hand, so I was able to move freely about the room because I wasn't in active labor yet. 10 minutes later, she came back into the room and I was informed that I also had to have a block on my right hand since I had gestational diabetes and they couldn't cross Pitocin (if needed) with insulin and dextrose. So, I ended up having two IV blocks, one in each hand - one for saline and Pit and the other for the dextrose/insulin cocktail. I count myself lucky, though, that she was able to get me with the first stick each time. And let's not forget about the hospital bands. I had 4 - one orange for indication of drug allergies (I have none), My general hospital admission band, my blood-type indicator band for L&D and then I have the most important one - the one that both Jake and I had to wear - that whatever little person was going to be born that day, that they were ours. Lolly also hooked me up to a fetal heart monitor and a contraction monitor via monitor pads on my belly strapped down with elastic/velcro straps as well as a blood pressure cuff on my right arm that would measure my blood pressure every 15 minutes. All I had to do now was sit and wait for the show to begin. About an hour later, VERY mild contractions started to show. It felt like someone was just pushing on my belly. My parents who had been there the entire time were tired and wanted to go home for the night since nothing was expected to happen until the next day.
Me with my "vines" of IV tubes (two on each side of me)
3/20 3:30-4am: The contractions woke me up from a sound sleep and weren't really unbearable. They just felt more like cramps, bigger ones. At one point (this might be TMI) I decided I had to go to the bathroom, and began to lift my left leg to use it as leverage to roll over, sit up, then stand. As soon as I lifted my leg and put a little abdominal effort behind my "lift"...it happened. Pretty much ALL of my remaining amniotic fluid came flowing out like a frikkin water fountain. I panicked and called Jake over. All I could say was "I'm losing all the fluid and there's nothing I can do about it". The nurse came in, checked me out and I was OK - physically. Mentally though, feeling something like that and you have no control is a truly strange feeling. So I went to the bathroom while the nurse cleaned up the bed and I tried to go back to sleep. After climbing back into bed I thought to myself "Now there's no cushion for contractions. It's about to get VERY interesting from here".
3/20 4:30-5am: The baby kept moving away from the fetal heart monitor that was strapped to me, so it was decided by my doctor on duty that they would place an interal fetal heart monitor into me. Fun times.
3/20 9-10am: My parents called and said they were on their way in a few minutes and the contractions were pretty painful at this point. I was having a hard time breathing through them and as such began to panic a little. When I panicked, I would forget to breathe and therefore became nauseated. I had in our birth plan that when I looked uncomfortable, to offer me drugs since I'm the kind of person who wouldn't ask for them on my own because I'd be afraid of "being a burden", which I admit now was STUPID. They offered me a pain med called Fentanyl, which they said would work almost instantly, but only last for an hour. I wasn't ready to accept an epidural since I was only 3cm dilated. I wanted to see how far I could take this before needing medication. I knew I was not going to be able to handle a completely med-free birth. I knew my limitations, and I was getting there fast. The contractions were concentrating their "wrath" on my right hip, which felt like someone was twisting a hot poker into my bone and I just wanted to get through the contractions a little to get a little rest. I must also mention that during this entire time, the nurses would come every hour on the hour to prick my fingers to check my glucose level. And they didn't use the delicate needles I used at home. They used the HUGE, nasty lancets that looked like they were made in the late 90's that needed a TON of blood to make the glucose machine function. This definitely cut in on my "rest" that everyone was telling me I needed.
3/20 Noon-1pm: I was dilated to 4cm, and the contraction pain was so unbearable, and I had two Fentanyl injections, each only lasting about 20 minutes of effectiveness. I felt I wasn't going to last the labor considering I was in major pain and only 4cm. The nurse who was working with me told me that there was nothing wrong with wanting to be somewhat comfortable and that I would possibly make more progress because I could concentrate more on getting through the contractions rather than concentrating on getting rid of the pain from the contractions. So I talked about it with Jake and we decided that I would get the epi. The anesthesiologist was there in 15 minutes. I had had 2 epidural steroid injections for back pain before, so I knew how to curve my back. Of course, at those times I wasn't in labor and hooked up to numerous vines of IV meds. The nurse held me up while Jake held my hand. During the epidural, I had a contraction and the blood pressure cuff was making it's (painful) measurement at the same time, so I didn't really feel anything after the local anesthesia was given. It was the smoothest epidural I've ever had. About 10 minutes later, I was able to breathe through the contractions without losing my cool and getting nauseated again.
3/20 5-6pm: I was dilated to about 6, and the contractions were getting stronger. At this point, I was given an oxygen mask and was asked to breathe into it while going through a contraction, to give as much pure oxygen as possible to myself and therefore the baby. Also, it was noticed that when I had a contraction, her heart rate would dip a little. I was told to lay on my left side from then on. Of course, this meant that the epidural meds would pool (via gravity) to whatever lower side I was laying on, which was my left. For the next few hours, I felt nothing in my left side and EVERYTHING on my right. It was pretty painful, but I kept thinking that feeling half was better than feeling everything and through long, deep breaths, I was able to get through the contractions.
3/20 7-8pm: The contractions were horrible. I was starting to panic a little and was PRAYING that I was dilated more. I called the nurse in and asked when I would be measured again, hoping beyond hope that God gave me a break and I was ready to push or dilated enough to where I felt I could push in the next hour or so. When the doctor did come and measured me, she said I was between 8 and 9cm. I lost it. I called Jake over, in tears telling him I didn't think I could do this anymore. I was seriously considering asking for a c-section because I wanted this baby OUT! Jake held my hand and told me that this is what we've worked so hard for and the experience we were having as a family was worth the wait and work, that he loved me and no matter what I decided, he would be there for me and the baby. I decided to push on through the pain and try to make it. He sat with me the entire time after that, rubbing my leg and telling me when a contraction was going to hit and when it was going down so I knew when the pain would come and when it would go. Having him do that was a MIRACLE. I felt with his help, the pain was more manageable because he could let me know when the end would come.
3/20 8:45-9:00pm: The doctor came back and checked me. I was fully dilated, but my cervix had a "lip" on the right side that wasn't fully pulled back in dilation. However, when a contraction hit, the "lip" would pull back, so she didn't see anything wrong with having me push. Of course the contractions were pretty substantial, but I was so tired and pretty much reconciled that this was the card I was dealt and all I could do was breathe/moan through it. I didn't know at the time, but apparently when the contractions came, Scarlett's heart rate would dip to an almost dangerous level, but would rebound and correct itself fairly quickly between contractions, so the doctor's were kind of concerned, but as long as her heart rate wouldn't dip too low for too long, they would just keep an eye on her. The doctor's told me in about 10-15 minutes, I would be able to push. When they checked me, they said "We can see her head, and she has hair!" I was ready to get this kid out.
3/20 9:15 - 11:45pm: The doctors who told me I was ready to push never came back. Instead, what had happened was apparently during the previous two contractions, Scarlett's heart rate dipped pretty severely and wasn't rebounding as quickly as before. This was indicating that maybe the umbilical cord was being squished too much and therefore was cutting off her oxygen. I didn't know this until about 2 days after her delivery. But at the time, I thought everything was still OK. A young man came into my room and said "Laurel? My name is Dr. S (don't want to reveal his name on this blog). We need to discuss the possibility of you having a c-section." He basically told me that he was monitoring my progress and didn't like the look of how the baby's heart rate was so affected by the contractions. If I made enough progress with pushing and the baby's heart rate wouldn't dip as low as before, he would give me "assistance from below" as he called it (aka suction). However if her status didn't improve or her heart rate dipped again, I would have to have a c-section. All I could think during this entire time he was talking to me was "Who the hell are you and where did you come from?" The nurse at the time told me she would help me push as much as possible so we could make good progress. It was time to push.
I pushed for 2 hours, but it literally felt like 30 minutes. I pushed on my back, right and left sides trying to make progress. I didn't realize how much I wanted a vaginal birth until when I started pushing. I was determined beyond determination to get the baby out. But because my epidural had pooled to my left side, when the contractions would come and I'd have to get my legs up to push, the left leg was dead weight. Plus while pushing, I would count in my head while the nurse was counting out loud. When I would push, I'd immediately start counting and by the time I got to 3 or so, the nurse would start at 1 in her counting and was the SLOWEST counter EVER. I could've killed her. My mom also got in on the action and she was worse. She would whisper the numbers (I asked her to be louder) and then she would count even slower than the nurse and sometimes forget 9 and 10 and just count to 8. Finally I asked Jake to count and he was awesome. He was loud enough for me to hear, but not too loud and he would count at a pace I was comfortable with. The baby's head was in the birth canal, but not her crown. After the 2 hours, Dr. S came in, basically told me he was monitoring me again, knew I was pushing, but that it was time for a c-section. I knew no matter what I said or didn't say, he wasn't going to take "no" for an answer. Also, I was exhausted. I had no more fight in me to duke it out with this dude. Then he asked me the stupidest question: "Are you OK with that?" All I could do was look him in the eye and say "No, I'm not OK with it, but it seems I don't have a choice". A c-section was in my future and I was scared.
3/21 Midnight: I was going to have a c-section. I basically had to take my mind off of having a vaginal delivery and that I was going to be having surgery instead. I felt a little bit of failure because I had come this far only to be told I couldn't go anymore. All of a sudden, I saw a guy in green scrubs and a surgical hair cap come in and wash his hands. Since I was so tired, I could barely open my eyes. All I could think was "Man, that doctor is kind of cute"...it was Jake! Apparently he had changed into scrubs for the surgery and I didn't even know he was gone! At the moment he walked up to me and kissed my forehead, I said "You make one good-looking doctor... and you're keeping those scrubs". I was then wheeled into the OR and the anesthesiologist (who was from some Eastern European country) gave me the meds to numb me from the chest down. My arms were strapped down out to my sides. I felt like Jesus on a cross. It was all kind of surreal. Jake was rubbing my head and holding my hand. I knew at the moment the doctors called out their positions and status that I was going to freak out if I thought about what was going on beyond that blue sheet. Plus I was so tired and the work was being done for me, so I decided to nap during the procedure.
3/21 1:34am: I was in and out of consciousness. I was about to close my eyes again when I heard the doctor say "And it's out...it's a girl!" I instantly forced my eyes open and saw the nurse carry the baby to the cleaning and warming station out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head to see Jake make a beeline towards her. All I kept thinking was "Cry, baby. Please cry so I know you're OK". After a minute, but what seemed like 10, she gave out a huge cry. Jake came back to me for a minute and said "she's here" and all I could ask was "Is she OK?"
Scarlett Leigh Smith was born Monday March 21, 2011 at 1:34am
She was 6 lbs, 1 oz and 20 3/4 inches long
After a few minutes, I couldn't hold consciousness anymore. I closed my eyes and started to drift again. All of a sudden, I felt this warmth and pressure on my left shoulder/chest. I opened my eyes, looked down and I saw her laying on me. She was perfect. She was a little purple (which I was told was normal given what she'd been through with the oxygen dipping, but she was good) and waxy (she still had some vernix caseosa covering her). All I could say to her was "Hi baby. We waited a long time for you. Happy Birthday sweetheart". The nurse explained that they wanted to give her as much skin to skin as possible, that the OR was pretty cold and they've supposedly figured out that to have the baby against the mother's skin was more effective in maintaining a good body temp than being under the warming light. I could still barely keep my eyes open, but was forcing them to do so. My daughter is here and NOTHING was going to make me miss this.
3/21 approx 3:00am: I was wheeled into recovery and waited for Jake to come. All I could think was "It's over. She's here." Jake came in and showed me pictures that had been taken of her and us after her delivery. I also had noticed that sometime during the operation, he had peaked over the sheet...what a freak! ;) A few minutes later (or what seemed like it, but I guess was more like 20-30 minutes), my parents and mother in law came in. They had seen her in the nursery getting her Vitamin K shot and other various things they do in the nursery. They waited with me the entire time I was in recovery until the anesthesia wore off enough for me to wiggle my toes and a room was available. When we got to the room, Scarlett was already there with a nurse, waiting for us. She picked her up and asked me to do skin-to-skin. Within 10-15 seconds, my daughter was on my chest. My mind was racing. I kept thinking "Wow...this is it. This really happened. I'm a mom now. This is really strange!" After a little bit, my parents and MIL decided to head home and Jake folded out the horribly uncomfortable barka lounger chair to get some sleep.
Throughout my pregnancy, I had highs and lows. Towards the end-half, I had to battle some pretty serious stuff. I had Gestational Diabetes and Hypertension. I was checking my glucose levels 4 times a day, and my blood pressure once a day. I was on numerous medications and had weekly doctors' appointments. At the time, it was annoying and tedious, but that was in the moment. I was hugely uncomfortable and growing more and more tired and ready for the pregnancy to be over. But looking back on it now that Jake and my daughter, our baby, our Scarlett is here, it was all worth it. She's perfectly healthy (except for a bout of jaundice which was taken care of) given that she was born 4 weeks early. There was so much that could've gone wrong in my pregnancy and birth. But no...she's here and she's perfect.
I'm really happy with how it turned out. The flag points aren't perfect, but I love it anyways!
