The Birth - Part 2

Let's remember where we left off.  I was in a large birth room lying on a double bed next to a wall of windows that let the afternoon light in, leaving the room dim and naturally lit.  The room was quiet with compassionate reminders of how to release tension and let my body continue to do what feels right.  My husband, sister, mom, nurse, and midwife surrounded me, placing their hands on me, keeping me focused.   I was working hard and things were getting close.

..."that's not a head" Andrea said.  "I don't know what it is but it's not a head."

It turns out it was a knee.  And I had to use all of my willpower to not let that knee out of me.  I was rushed down the short birth center hall through a corridor.  Jason was right behind.  I didn't know what was happening but everyone surrounding me oozed stress.  All I could think was, I'm going to have this baby.  It doesn't matter how it happens.  Our baby is coming.  They stopped Jason and Lisa and made them wait.  I remember yelling, "I love you..."  Before we entered the room I asked what was happening.  Someone told me I was having an emergency C-section.  Everything changed so fast.  Contractions were still rolling over me and I had to moan and tighten my body to hold everything together.  C-section?  I went back to my mantra of "okay, okay" telling myself this baby is coming and it doesn't matter how he gets here.  

They wheeled me into a brightly lit OR and again I had to climb off of one damn bed onto another.  The gurney quickly filled up with people on all sides.  The anesthesiologist walked to the head of the table and told me he was going to knock me out because we didn't have time to numb me.  He was cold and stern.  People on both sides of me were yelling not to push.  Dee was doing her best to tell them my situation and seemed to be one of the few treating me like a human instead of a machine running out of control that needed to be stopped.  I remember her yelling, "She's my patient.  I can stand wherever I want!" and she took post to the left of my head.   I asked for Jason and that damn anesthesiologist said he couldn't come in but someone still went to get him.  I held onto those contractions with everything in me.  I knew this baby was there and ready to enter this world.  It felt like I was tightening up through my throat when someone yelled, "She's pushing!"  I felt like I was being scolded for the exact thing I was commended for on that peaceful birthing bed just minutes before.  I felt him as he came out of me.

Jason walked in the room just in time to see that our little one's foot in the air.  That's all it took for this emergency C-section to turn into a breech birth.  J later told me it looked  (and sounded) like one of those dramatic scenes in Grey's Anatomy that you thought were made for tv.  People were yelling, "Push," "Grab your legs," "Hold your breath," "Don't scream."  And that's what I remember the most, screaming.  It all just felt so odd.  My contractions would take a break and they would still be yelling at me to push.  Nothing in my body wanted to push at that moment and that's what I had to do.  I could see three men at the end of the table, 6 arms reaching at our baby.  The one in charge was Dr. Hakim, my savior.  He was the calmest one in the room.  He knew exactly what to do with each of our little man's parts as they presented themselves.  I pushed with all my might without any breaks, just kept pushing.  Everything else in the room was loud and angry and stressed and Dr. Hakim was quiet and focused as he worked.  It seemed they needed all three of these men to manipulate the baby as he came out.  I felt each of their hands working on my body to allow for the rest of our baby to be born.

And then it happened.  He was here and just as quickly whisked into the corner to be cleaned and probed.  It was a boy.  The boy I pictured through our entire pregnancy.  Our boy was here.  He looked calm and content, totally opposite from the mood of the room.  He was smart too because he waited to take his first breath and missed breathing in any meconium.  I rested as I looked up at him.  I was exhausted and in shock and beginning to realize that nothing was happening the way we planned.  My boy was supposed to be placed on my chest, skin to skin.  My boy was supposed to let the vernix absorb and be rubbed in by his parents.  He was going to have his cord stop pulsing before it was cut.  He was going to be in our arms for the beginning of his life, away from all the hospital bs.  He wasn't supposed to be lying in a clear box, left alone once the nurse was done with her checklist of things to do to him.  I laid on that table looking at him so far away and told myself again, "it's okay."  I knew we were going to have that time as a family of three to cuddle and bond, it just wouldn't be till later.  And J and I and our baby would be together without loud noises and bright lights, and we would recreate the vision I had in my head because we all needed it.  Our baby would be okay until then.

At that point I had to get a saddle block (what I thought was an epidural) and J had to step out so he went and told everyone in the waiting room, "We have a Rocco Boone!"  And this would be his story.  He surprised us all and entered the world feet first.  And I love him for that.  He prepared me for the unexpected.  I'm sure with this little guy, it's just the beginning.

Finally getting to feel my son.

Love at first sight.

Men in the waiting room.

Ladies in the waiting room see a picture of our little man.

Read Part III

The Birth - Part I

This birth story is how I remember the day Rocco Boone came into our lives.  Parts of it are hazy so I've pieced together my memories and what I've been told by the people who lovingly surrounded me that day.  In telling his story, I've found myself using the word amazing right alongside with traumatic.  But the way I see it is, it was the most unexpected and perfect birthday I could have ever imagined for our son.  
I ended my last post with...

     I wanna be in it again.  I want to be there with him, my man.  I want to feel the pain.  I   don't want to be numbed from this process.  I might cry, scream, plead.  Because every part of me will be in it.  No part of my life will be be able to distract us from what is happening.  And pulling this baby from inside of me will take a lot of work, more than I've ever put into any part of my life.  And J will have to work harder than he ever has to help me through this process, keep me going,  and stay strong in my moments of weakness. 

Wow.  I couldn't have been more right.  Less than two days later I was in the midst of full blown labor.  Jason was asked to work Friday night instead of Saturday morning so I took the alone time to attempt to get labor started.  I went shopping at Kohls and walked quickly between the shoes, clothes, and home decor.  I finished as they closed at eleven and decided I should keep moving so I went to Meijer.  I had no idea where else I should go at 11:30 at night.  The goal was to get yummy chocolates and nuts for our favor jars I was putting together for hospital visitors.  When I got home I was tired but decided to pump to see if that would help turn these braxton hicks into real contractions.  Feeling worn out, we went to bed but something was different this night.  On one of my many trips to the bathroom, I noticed a small amount of blood.  I knew some women see bloody show and labor starts within a few days so I assumed that's where I was.  I had never seen my mucus plug before so I questioned if that would be the next step of this journey.  Back to sleep I went around six am and awoke for the day at eleven.  I felt those same braxton hicks I've felt for months now but they were coming every ten minutes.  I remember describing them as more painful and like they were shooting through a tunnel straight out of me.

Jason and I started this Saturday as we do most weekends.  He made coffee, I made a big breakfast of bagels, eggs, and bacon.  As we began this lazy Saturday I noticed a shortness in my patience.  I felt a bit annoyed with this man I am usually so adoring.  Without talking much, we both got busy working on the house and finishing packing our hospital bags.  We had procrastinated on completing the laundry we needed and finishing any of the bags we would take.  I folded baby blankets and debated teeny hats.  Two of everything was packed because I had no idea how big this little guy would be.   Jason cleaned the house - dishes, vacuuming, and some packing.  He seemed really focused and we continued to speak very little to each other.  

By 12:30 I had sent texts out to a few girlfriends and my sister.

But here's the problem.  Jason and I were fully prepared for a long early labor.  It's my first baby so I thought we would feel slight contractions here and there, knowing what was coming but without much pressure.  So even though the contractions were getting closer together and more painful, I really thought it was early labor and that I would be dealing with it for at least the next twelve hours.  As they got more intense I started to not be able to continue what I was working on.  I would keel over the bathroom counter or the couch as Jason continued to clean the house and finish packing.  The pain took over me and I would repeat to myself, "okay, okay" through heavy breathing.  The okays were as if to say, okay, I can do this.  

By 2:00 I knew we would need to head to the birth center soon.  I wasn't handling the contractions well and started to feel defeated.  I remember saying (or yelling) to Jason, "Do something" during a contraction.  I really felt like I couldn't get through them on my own.  Again, I thought these were supposed to be the early labor contractions people talk through and all I could do was focus on each one as it rolled over my body.  

I started to experience what I thought of as double contractions where one would come right after another.  But now I'm not sure if that was just my contractions getting really close together.  Jason got the car started and the hypnobirthing album playing and we were ready.  The last thing I remember before leaving the house was hugging the navy blue chair in our Florida room through that last contraction and telling myself, I need an epidural.  I'm not going to be able to make it through this.  

The car ride there began to focus me.  I followed along with our hypnobirthing guide and surprisingly breathed through the contractions.  I went deep inside myself, keeping my eyes closed and following the visualization process.  But I knew the amount of work I was putting into it and felt embarrassed.  I didn't want people to see me like this.  I told Jason to tell my sister I might not want her to see me because it was really bad.  We pulled up to the valet parking at the hospital and they brought me a wheelchair.  A frickin' wheelchair.  And I needed it.  There was no way I could get myself to the birth center on the third floor.  I didn't want to be seen as weak with my husband wheeling me to the birth center that doesn't even have epidurals.  I hugged our pillows through each contraction, partly to hide my face, as J wheeled us to the elevator.

When we got to the doors of the birth center I stood up right away.  I was set on walking in there on my own.  I was not going to let the midwife and nurse see the first time mom being wheeled down the hall after leaving all our bags at the front door of the hospital as if it was some emergency or something.  I walked myself that very short distance to the nurse and midwife who were standing in the hall.  Another contraction hit before we could get into our room and I grabbed the closest door and pressed my face into it.  The midwife immediately pressed her hands into my lower back as I breathed through a bad one.  I looked up and smiled to tell J - we got the good nurse.  I had seen Dee in pictures and heard the praises of many other new moms.  I felt relieved that she was there.

We walked into our room and I immediately laid down.  My sister joined us and her and J stripped me down so I could get checked.  I had no concept in my head of where I thought I was, I hadn't even questioned it.  The midwife, Andrea, looked up and said, "you're at an 8."  I was shocked.  I had already done a huge chunk of the hard work.  I looked over at the jacuzzi I had spent months dreaming of using during labor and knew I wouldn't even be able to get in.  Things were probably going to move quickly from here.  Jason set up my hypnobirthing album again and I continued to have contractions that seemed to come one after the other.  I laid on my left side on that double bed with Jason behind me.  Lisa kneeled next to me and I squeezed her hand, her neck, whatever I could grab.  She reminded me to relax my face where I seemed to be holding a lot of tension.  My mom was now there and she joined us, pushing on my belly.  I felt that I needed each of them there, each one doing their job.  When they asked J to answer some questions in the hall I immediately felt like I needed him back at his post.  

Andrea and Dee reminded me to let my body do what felt right.  That was so strange to me.  They never told me not to push, just to listen to what my body felt was right.  My bag of water was still intact so as I pushed the bag began to bulge.  With one push it popped and geysered above us all to splash everyone in the room.  I had no idea this was even possible.  My mom had to wipe off Andrea's glasses so she could see.  In that moment I thought, this will be the memorable part of his story.  This is the part I will tell everyone that makes it unique.  And of course I was wrong.  

I continued to let my body push for not much longer when Andrea looked up with serious eyes and told us, "that's not a head."  Everything was a whirlwind from there.  Dee ran into the hall and I heard her yell into a phone to get ready.  Andrea told me to stop pushing.  I was still a bit confused what all of this meant.  What seemed like seconds later there was a gurney in our room and someone told me to get on it.  I had been lying in the same position since I got there, contractions were still coming one after the other.  How was I supposed to get my huge self up on that thing?  My sister told me you're going to do this, and I did.  Funny how that seemed like it was such an impossible task when I had already done so much.  

Read Part II