I never
thought I'd say this, but SHE'S here! Our fourth baby was born on
Sunday, and surprised us all when we discovered it was a girl!
Over
the last few weeks, I've had several false alarms that I might be going
into labor. I'd get fairly intense contractions (enough to capture my
attention) about every 5 minutes, but they'd only last 30-45 minutes and
then they'd stop. At my doctor appointments each week, my body was
progressing as is normal for me -- 2 cm dilated at 36 weeks, 2.5 cm at
37 week, 3 cm at 38 and 39 weeks--but the contractions weren't lasting
long enough for me to go to the hospital. After my labor with A, where
my contractions were less intense but my labor lasting longer in the
hospital, I decided this time I wanted to wait until the contractions
became more painful (indicative of being further along in the labor
process) before going in. I wanted as short a stay in the hospital
(particularly the delivery room) as possible.
So,
along comes Saturday, February 15th--the day before my due date. B1
and I actually went out to dinner the night before for Valentine's Day
(we have never been out on Valentine's Day before--early in our
dating/marriage relationship, I was working at Black Angus so I always
worked Valentine's evening, and after that job was over it was still too
stressful for me to eat out on Valentine's Day because I knew the
servers were hoping to flip tables quickly, so we always celebrated
Valentine's at home). We went to Buffalo Bills and had a wonderful time.
We ordered some of our wings rather spicy, and I joked that maybe the
spicy food would throw me into labor. Sure enough, Saturday morning
came, and with it regular contractions--however, these still weren't
very intense, and would come every 5-10 minutes, so not quite as close
together as they needed to be. I spent nearly all day just
uncomfortable, between the contractions and the even more frequent trips
to the bathroom. I didn't have much of a desire to eat, which I would
later regret, so my diet from that morning until 5:00 p.m. consisted of
some donuts for breakfast and Ritz crackers for lunch. By the time 4:00
p.m. rolled around, the contractions were coming more frequently and
were more intense, requiring me to stop what I was doing or saying to
breathe through them. I finally admitted that this must be it--our baby
was finally coming.
B1
went into nervous father-to-be mode, and started packing his overnight
bag and loading up the car. Meanwhile, I tried to convince him that I
didn't want to leave just yet, as I was sure I still had several hours
before the baby would come and would rather be comfortable at home than
in the hospital. So, we made dinner for the kids so my mom wouldn't have
to, and I forced him to eat as well. We ended up leaving for the
hospital around 6:00 p.m. I made him stop by Walmart on our way to the
hospital so I could pick up some lanolin, and he gave me the hardest
time. He only ended up stopping because I explained what a necessity
that was for nursing, and again convinced him that this baby was not
coming for at least an hour--plenty of time to reach the hospital so we
wouldn't be having a baby on the side of the road. I even went into
Walmart with him, despite his protests. After the shortest Walmart trip
ever, we were back in the car and heading to the hospital. With how long
my contractions had been regular, and the fact that I was at 3 cm the
previous Monday, and the intensity of the contractions, I had hoped to
be around 6-7 cm dilated when we went in. We arrived at the hospital and
put in the triage room for monitoring. The nurse checked me, and
declared...I was at 4.5 cm. I couldn't believe it. After all my best
efforts to minimize my hospital time, and this was the LEAST dilated I
had been among all my children. To add to my horror, the nurse even said
they might consider sending me back home! Oh, the shame! :) They said
they'd monitor me for an hour, check me again, and then the doctor would
decide.
After
an hour, the nurse came back, and thankfully I was just over 5 cm
dilated, so I was admitted. I was hooked up to the IV (unfortunately, I
was GBS positive with this pregnancy, so antibiotics needed to be
administered, which means I needed an IV; I hate needles), and settled
in for my depressingly-long wait in the hospital. At this point, it's
nearing 8:00 p.m., and the nurse explains that if this baby doesn't come
in the next four hours, I'll need another dose of antibiotics to make
sure the GBS doesn't affect our baby. B1 and I look at each other,
and realize that four more hours puts our baby as being born on the due
date. I really don't want to be in labor that long, and we joke that
maybe this baby is copying B2 and will wait until the due date before
making the grand appearance. Ha ha, right?
Another
hour passes, and the contractions seem to be getting less intense. I'm
worried that my labor will stall, and I'll either be given the options
of breaking my water (nope, don't want to do this) or take pitocin
(really don't want to do this). I wanted a labor with as little medical
intervention as was necessary, and I feared it was all spiraling out of
my control. I already had the IV I didn't want, and now this. The nurse
checks me, and I'm only about 5.5 cm dilated. This pattern continues for
the next few hours--I only progress at the rate of about 0.5 cm
dilation per hour, which is really slow for me. B1 and I passed the
time by watching the Olympics (we don't have TV, so the little we've
seen of this year's Olympics has been at my in-law's house or when we
were at Buffalo Bills the night before), and I spent some time in the
jetted tub trying to reduce the pain in my back during the contractions.
Around 11:45, they check me again, and I'm still only around 7 cm
dilated, but the contractions are getting very intense and I'm having a
hard time focusing on my breathing. In fact, I don't do such a great job
of breathing, and start feeling buzzing in my face and hands. At one
point, my hands actually went completely numb, and the nurses had to
work with me to get my breathing back in line so I didn't
hyperventilate.
At
this point, I turn onto my side (I've found this to be the most
tolerable position for me for the later stages of delivery) and spend
most of the remaining labor with my eyes closed, focusing just on
getting through each contraction. As such, I don't know how long each of
the next phases takes to pass. But, needless to say, the labor kicks
into high gear. I start wondering why I was so anxious to have this
baby, and asking myself again why I decided to do this un-medicated.
But, I remember from my previous deliveries that this means I'm close to
the end, so I don't bother asking for drugs I know they'll refuse to
give and instead look forward to those contractions when my body will
start pushing and the end will be here. I'm guessing somewhere around
12:15 a.m., my body starts pushing the baby out. I don't say anything
just yet though to B1 or the nurses, because I want to be in control
here of my body position and pace. After several contractions, though, I
realize this baby is moving more quickly than in the past, and I tell
the nurses that they need to get the doctor. When he comes in, he says
he wants to check me again to see if I'm at 10 cm dilation yet, despite
the fact that we told him my body was already pushing out the baby. At
this point, my contractions are slow close and so intense that the last
thing I want during my brief resting periods is to be checked when I
know I'm fully dilated. So, the doctor stands there waiting, and my
water broke. I think he finally believed me at that point, and the
nurses quickly get the bed ready. At the next contraction, I feel the
baby's head crowning, and with the second contraction after my water
breaks our baby is born. Yep, that's right--she was completely born in
one push. While it was nice not feeling like a head was stuck and much
too big to fit, it was also very intense having the baby born in one
push.
When
my water had broken, there was meconium, so there were some respiratory
specialists in the delivery room when our baby was born. Right after
her head came out, I felt like my heart stopped beating while I waited
to hear her first cry; once that came, I immediately wanted to know if
our baby was a boy or girl. I was shocked when B1 announced that we
had a girl. We had both convinced ourselves that we were having another
boy, but I don't think either of us had given up hope that maybe we
would get one girl after all. So, we were just thrilled.
It
took a few minutes before I could hold our baby, while the respiratory
specialists made sure that everything was okay. When they passed her to
me, it was like all was right with the world. All the fears I had had
during my pregnancy were gone, and I was just in awe of this tiny,
beautiful miracle.
Sunday night her brothers came to visit. B2 was so excited when Grandma S told him that our new baby was girl--he had been wanting a sister since I was pregnant with A. D, however, was not happy. He told Grandma that he didn't want a sister; he wanted another "brudder." So, when they arrived at the hospital, B2 was so excited to see his baby sister, and D was at best mildly curious. He did ask to hold her though. I asked if he thought we should keep her, and he said yes, but, "Can you put another baby in your tummy?" I laughed and told him no, at least not for a while. He seemed a little sad. Before the kids went back home, I talked to D again and asked what he thought of his new sister:
D: "Are we going to keep her?"
Me: "Yes."
D: "And A too?"
Me: "Yes."
D: (incredulously) "Both of them at the same time?"
At this point I couldn't keep from my laughing, and I tried to explain that we didn't have E to replace anyone--we are keeping all four of our kids.
Despite D's initial hesitancy, he has really warmed up to E. He asks to hold her at least once a day, and is often concerned if her sock or mitten has fallen off or if she cries. B2 also loves holding her, and brags to anyone who will listen about his new little sister. Heaven help whoever tries to mess with our baby girl, with D and B2 on the watch!
