Pre-labor:
September 28th I had a very productive stay-at-home-nesting-day (Bj was at the fire station) wherein I rearranged our entire house including our solid oak bedroom set. Following the cleaning binge I celebrated with my family at Bountiful bowl where I bowled a record breaking 80 while enjoying the alley's deep fried goodness. All the activity must have excited my aging uterus, as the next morning I realized the time was at hand. Moving into slow-mo the morning went something like this: Bj came home around 7:30 and dropped into bed beside me (as became the norm) but my uncomfortable body demanded that I empty my bladder before committing further time to idolness. After I emptied my magically refillable bladder I felt like my body decided to make an additional deposit without warning me. The unwarranted moisture reminded me of an experience discussed in a previous birthing class. Not sure if the warm feeling should be a larger quantity I nudged my zombified husband, and his impeccable recall skills, and bequeathed, "what does it feel like when your water breaks?" (Which must have sounded absurd from his perspective) An annoyed sound coming from somewhere in the depths of our 800 thread count sheets fluttered out that sounded something like, "How should I know"?! I decided at this point reprise was out of the question and decided on an appropriately warm, soothing shower. After the shower I dressed in comfy cotton sweats and tuned in to the continuous drip of my leaky faucet and decided it warranted waking the zombie. He smartly took action and readied himself then we left our warm double-income life in our anxious wake.
Not a false alarm:
After arriving at the maternity wing at LDS hospital a forest of paperwork was thrust our way while we calmly regarded the drip, drip, dripping down my legs. A ph test strip precariously placed proved positive for amnio fluid and we were committed to parenting for the rest of our lives. After being admitted around 9:30am on September 29th we put our families on alert and settled in for an unforgettable experience.
Drug me up!
It took about 4 hours for the doctors to come in and get me checked out and get me set up on the lovely labor inducing drug. Before the drug was administered I took a series of walks gently urging my precious bundle to make his final descent. My parents came and celebrated with us and stayed for quite a while. I requested a Pace's Popsicle delivery but I wasn't really up to eating. Once the medicine took over the contractions came on pretty strong and caused heavy waves of nausea. Never being taught to puke like a lady I almost threw the bean sized bowl across the room when offered up as a catch tray. I managed to choke out "garbage can" just in time for it to be rushed to my side so I could puke in all my unabashed, wretched glory. A few times. And then some more. Around 7pm an angel walked in my room and congratulated me on my pain threshold then opened the heavens with the suggestion of an epidural. Within minutes the anesthesiologist had me wrapped around my belly as he tapped and popped his pain-stopping-bliss-stick into my spinal cord. Numb from my ring fingers down I was able to settle in for a smooth delivery.... Or not.
Let's get this party started:
After being invaded by every doctor, nurse, med student, and who knows who else, it was agreed that "the baby was in distress" and that I "shouldn't worry" and "try to get some sleep". Yeah. Ok. In an attempt to more accuracy monitor my unborn son a fetal monitor was threaded up my non-dialating you-know-what (1.5 at this point) and gently screwed into his head. I repeat: screwed into his head. Screwed. Into. His. Head. Through my yoo-hoo. The fetal heart monitor was detecting a decreased heart rate during every contraction. I felt helpless. My saving grace, other than my steady and capable rock of a spouse, was the birthing classes that walked us through this very scenario. After a few disappointed visitors and a barrage of fruitless puking my doctor made her final appearance around 3:30am on the morning of September 30th 2001 gently suggesting that since its been 14 hours of active labor and the baby seems to be in no better condition she would like to do a c-section. "Finally" was the only word my weak body could sob out before I convulsed into another round of drug induced dry-heaves.
And here comes the baby:
Another spinal poke for a stronger pain block and Bj was dressed in his fancy blue paper suit ready to hold my hand through the delivery of our son. A few nervous tears trickled down to my pillow as I was wheeled to the prepared OR. With the medical team in place and my husband seated by my side I closed my eyes and willed the nausea to fade so I could enjoy the experience. The look in my eyes was interpreted as "I need another garbage can" as Bj sweetly obliged then we both settled in for the most intense moment yet. Bj kept occupied by keeping my matted hair from obstructing my view of the sterile surroundings, including the white walls, stainless appliances and blue curtain draped across my chest to prevent me from watching the traumatic experience of a cesarean. I felt the doctor tugging and pulling and a lot of pressure (creating another onset of jarring my gut...go figure) then in an instant, an actual documentable moment in time, I felt relief. Nausea ceased, jarring stopped, and even BJ's stroking of my hair paused for a brief moment as we listened intently to suction and gurgling then a beautiful, angelic, life altering, wail pierced our hearts. 3:59 am. Time stood still. At 3:59 am my heart lept from my chest across the stale air of the O.R. and into the perfect pink bundle gently swaddled in the capable arms of a nameless nurse. It was Aj. My son. Our son. Joseph Richard White IV. Aj. Our perfect and incredible gift. 3:59am forever locked in my heart and soul. Snuggled right next to my new name, Mom.
Clarification:
After AJ was safely outside of my body, the doctor informed BJ and I that the reason for his decreased heart rate during contractions was because as my bodywould contract and push AJ towards the birth canal, it would tighten the umbilical cord which had somehow been tied into a not. (Apparently that's when he started his parkour training) So each contraction would tighten the knot and cause the terrifying restrictions.
Hospital hotel:
Because of the heavy dose of epidural I was not able to securely hold AJ right away, which was alright because Bj held him in my arms then held him in his and it was a beautiful sight to behold, my husband with our son. After an instant with our sweet baby the nurse whisked him away for checking and making-sure-ing where Bj and I shared in a tear filled moment of proud success. While my doctor put my insides back where they were suppose to be, stitched up what was cut apart, I held the warmth of my son in my heart and watched as he was measured (21 inches) and weighed (7.3lbs) and poked and prodded then finally cocooned and handed off to dad. Finally, Aj was placed in a transparent bassinet and wheeled beside me to a transition room where shortly after 5:00am Aj's first visitor would arrive. Uncle Rich got to hold him for a few minutes while he was on shift making a delivery for the newspaper company he worked for. He couldn't stay long but I was secretly glad to have my new little family all to myself, just for a little while. As feeling slowly returned I was able to hold him more securely and even unwrap him and memorize every tiny feature.
Bonding time and Breast feeding:
I felt an instant connection with this precious angel. He was often alert and clinging tightly to the nearest finger. After waiting as long as I could to attempt breastfeeding (which scared me more than delivery) I finally asked everyone to leave so I could have some privacy. I unwrapped his blanket to discourage relaxation, as recommended by my nurse, and held him close to my breast. As I pulled him near I gently placed my finger on his chin and slightly tipped open his mouth. At that moment we locked eyes (he was letting me know he knew what he was doing), and he instinctively found his food source and the fearful process turned into a vivid, almost sacred, memory.
Visitors:
We were overwhelmed, in a good way, with loving family and friends and doting grandparents who seemed almost as euphoric as Bj and I. I loved having them there and loved showing off my sweet baby. We have the most amazingly incredible and supportive family.
Hospital staff:
One of the nurses, Erica, was a old co-worker of mine and her husband was a fellow west valley firefighter, was extra considerate of our needs. In fact, during the night when she was coming in to do check up, she would put paper towels under her feet so her shoes wouldn't squeak and wake us up. Another nurse, very kind and friendly, didn't read my chart before she came in to do a routine exam. Apparently after you have a baby a nurse comes to check your uterus and to urge contracting by pressing on the exterior of the belly.that is not common practice when you've just had all the layers of your insides cut open and stitched back together… In fact, it is extremely painful and likely to result in a husband jumping over the bed to push the well-meaning nurse out of the way. We absolutely loved AJ's pediatrician, Dr. Lam Who routinely checked up and validated all of our concerns and kept saying we had just given birth to the most beautiful baby he had ever seen. We couldn't argue there.
Wrapping it up:
I absolutely enjoyed my experience bringing AJ into this world. It was an incredible moment that is still, 13 years later, fresh and raw. I love thinking about it and remembering becoming a mom. I am so glad BJ was able to come stay at the hospital with me for the five days that we were there, only going home to shower. (The day we arrived, and then four days for recovery) I am so glad we took the birthing class that was offered at the hospital we deliver it up. We felt very well prepared, even when everything started going wrong. I'm so grateful for our support group for understanding the recovery process for a c-section and for the outpouring of help we received when we went back to our little yellow house. Even sister Wheeler, our next-door 80ish year old widow, brought us some of her left overs to enjoy. It was such a sweet gesture. We have enjoyed every moment we have had with this incredible child. He is a genuine, loving boy with a pure and living heart. His energy is astounding and we are constantly amazed by his strength and abilities. We are truely blessed to have him as our son.
