Lilian’s Crazy Birth

So, it’s been a crazy ride around here the last week or so. I mean, any time you go through a process where the end result is a baby I think you’re automatically put onto an emotional roller coaster. But it does feel like it’s been extra dramatic for us.

To start things off, I had a last minute health scare delivered to me courtesy of a substitute doctor. My doctor wasn’t available on Friday the 10th for a prenatal visit. So I saw someone else at her practice. This particular doctor took one look at my feet, ordered a bunch of new tests and then proceeded to completely and utterly freak out over the results. By the time my actual doctor got back that Monday, I was fairly well freaking out myself. But, after some additional testing and an ultra-sound, it was firmly established that Dr. Doom and Gloom got waaaaaay ahead of herself and that I didn’t have gestational diabetes or a 12 pound baby or anything else that she was alluding to.

We were able to even more firmly establish that I didn’t have a 12 pound baby when Miss Lilian Jane made her appearance a couple of days later. So let’s move on to that.

At some point on Tuesday morning, I realized that I was, well, leaking some fluid. Because we’d already been through the ringer, it didn’t occur to me that this could be anything more than more bad news. Which is why I was actually a little bit shocked when my doctor informed me that there was a good chance that my water had broken. Wait, what? A perfectly normal pregnancy occurrence? Surely, you must be wrong. Clearly, I have some new pregnancy malady. I bet it will make my feet swell up even more. Either that or I peed myself. Which was my own not-so-secret theory.

Spoiler alert! My water had totally broken.

I wasn’t able to get into the doctor’s office for confirmation until that evening, so my mom came over to keep me company and I kept my feet up on the couch. In hindsight, I probably should have used that time to catch up on some sleep. But, at that point, I was in deep deep denial that I was about to have a baby.

Kristian got home from work and we drove over to the doctor’s office. After much anticlimactic waiting around, my doctor announced that my water had indeed broken. So, yay, I didn’t pee myself. Oh, and I guess that means we’re about to have a baby! Holy crap, I should have finished those curtains for the nursery when I still had a chance. Also, I’m really glad that I was proactive about packing my hospital bag. Also, holy crap, baby.

My doctor sent us to the labor  and delivery ward at the hospital for a non-stress test, but told us that we’d probably just get sent home and told to wait it out. So we didn’t stop for dinner on the way over. Or make arrangements for someone to take care of Gracie. Which pretty much guaranteed that we’d be immediately admitted.

Spoiler alert! We so totally got immediately admitted.

They hooked me up to a bunch of monitors and we were all quite surprised to discover that I was having contractions two minutes apart. I think I was the person who was the most surprised by this news, because I wasn’t actually feeling 95% of them. The combination of water breaking + contractions meant that I wasn’t allowed to go home, so they admitted right then and there. The doctor was pushing Pitocen on me from the start, but I asked to be given some time to see if things might get started on their own.

Spoiler alert! Things totally did not get started on their own.

Is there any place more miserable to spend time when you’re not feeling 100% than a hospital? I can’t believe that being constantly poked and prodded while listening to random beeps and alarms going off would be less than relaxing. I think that I got all of about two hours of sleep that night. At some point, the nurse came into my room and gave me some Misoprostol, to try and get things started without bringing in the big guns. But not much happened and the next morning the doctor recommended that we get my fake contractions under control with IV fluids and then start me on Pitocen.

Now, I had gone into this whole birth experience knowing that a) I wanted to do things as naturally as possible and 2) that when babies are involved, plans change. My birth plan was basically this: let’s do what it takes to get me a healthy baby. And my husband has no desire to cut the cord. I had some things that were on my “would like to list” (no epidural if I could help it, labor in the bathtub as much as possible) but I basically reserved the right to change my mind about anything and everything. Which is a good thing, because little miss Lilian had some definite plans of her own.

I’ll try and cut down on the nitty gritty. Basically, what happened is this: they started me on Pitocen, the real deal contractions started up right away and I had to spend the rest of my labor not eating and hooked up to a bunch of monitors. It was…. not comfortable. But the nurses and everyone at the hospital were incredibly lovely to me and Kristian was just a rock. So I managed to soldier through.

At some point, the nurse told me that I was going to have a really tough time of it without a little extra help, so she called the hospital’s doula program and was able to find someone to come over and help me. The nurse (and the doula!) will always have an extra special place in my heart for that one. I always thought that doulas were one of those things that it was nice to have, but not really all that necessary. But I don’t think I could have done it without her. She spent a few hours rubbing my back, applying hot packs and making sure that I was as comfortable as possible. The nurses are trying to keep you going, but their first interest is always going to be on the medical side of things. I can’t tell you how amazing it was to have someone there who could say, “I know you need her in bed for this measurement/monitoring/whatnot, but if we just roll her over a little, you’ll still be able to get what you need and she’ll be so much less miserable.

If we decide to have more kids, I am so getting a doula from day one.

After a few more hours, it was pretty clear to everyone that we were in for a long haul. The doctor checked me around 3 or 4pm, and I was only about two centimeters dilated. Which, to give you some perspective, is not even considered to be active labor. They don’t usually admit you into the hospital until you’re at least five centimeters. And I was already having these crazy, mondo, Pitocen contractions. The woman across from the hall gave birth, screaming for the longest time like she was being murdered. The doula was kind enough to cover my ears for that one.

The nurse was concerned for me at this point. I’d been in the hospital for something like 18 hours, I’d barely progressed and I was completely and utterly exhausted. She wanted me to take a little break and have something to take the edge off. She recommended that I take some IV Nubain so that I could have a nap and a little bit of relief. I was completely zonked at this point, so I happily agreed to a little bit of help. The nurse informed me that it would feel like I had four margaritas, that I’d probably fall asleep and that it would make our baby sleepy, but that was ok, because I wasn’t very far along in my labor. They hooked up the Nubain and I remember telling her that I’m a two-drink-drunk and then I don’t remember much else. Kristian tells me that I nodded off mid-sentence.

I slept for about an hour and I think they really cranked up the Pitocen while I was out. At any rate, I woke up screaming. Well, I thought I woke up screaming, but Kristian tells me that it was just a lot of moaning. I was still feeling the Nubain, so in between contractions I would fall asleep. And then another contraction would start up again and I’d be moaning like crazy, too out of it and sleepy to do much in the way of deep breathing. The nurse and Kristian were amazing about getting right into my face and making me breath and get through it.

Kristian enquired as to how much longer things might take. He was careful to do it out of my earshot, because he didn’t want me to freak out. Good thing too, because they told him it could be another day. Maybe longer. And if someone had told me that? I might have just curled up into a ball and given up. Kristian called Beans because “we’re going to be here forever and she could really use some help.”

Spoiler alert! Lilian was born like an hour later.

Beans showed up for a little bit of hand-holding, but she wasn’t there for very long before I jumped up screaming that I really needed to use the bathroom. I got myself situated and, all of a sudden, I felt this overwhelming desire to push. And a head. Which is what I screamed out quite forcefully. The (new) nurse said, “There is no way that you are feeling a head.” But she had to come in and check me, just to be sure.

Spoiler alert! I had totally felt a head.

And that’s when shit got real. The nurse went running out into the hallway to get as many medical types as she could find. They needed a doctor for me, and some nurses to assist the doctor, and they needed someone from pediatrics on standby to make sure that Lilian was going to be ok. I’d only had the Nubain a few hours earlier and it’s supposed to leave your system completely before baby comes out. They don’t want a loopy little baby who might forget to do something important, like, say, breathe properly. I’d also gone from two centimeters dilated to pushing in just a few hours, so they had to make sure that it was safe for me to proceed. I was told quite forcefully not to push and Kristian held my hand as I attempted to do just that.

The doctor came running in, and I’m told that he looked a bit like a deer in headlights. I actually got confirmation later from another doctor (they all email with each other about their shared patients) that we had indeed terrified the poor guy. He verified that everything was ok and then it was go time. Lilian was born about twenty minutes later. My actual doctor walked in the door a few minutes later, missing the birth by moments.Lilian emerged completely unscathed by the process and gave a couple of hearty cries. They put her on my chest immediately and it was love at first sight.

We called all the brand new grandparents and aunts and uncles to share our good news and to tell the grandparents to get their butts over and meet their new granddaughter. I’m not entirely sure why I was entrusted with telling people our good news, because not only did my Dad go to the completely wrong hospital, he wasn’t even aware of the fact that Lilian had arrived. I have no idea what I said on the phone, but he was convinced that his baby needed her Daddy. He and Kristian got the whole hospital situation sorted out “I’m in the lobby!” “No you’re not, I am!” (apparently, labor and delivery at both Cambridge Hospital and Mount Auburn are on the fifth floor). You should have seen the look on his face when he walked into the room, gave me a kiss and then looked down and saw his granddaughter.

Priceless. I’m saying it was priceless.

We hung out for a bit and did some snuggling. And then they took Lilian to clean her up a bit and it was time for me to get up and use the bathroom. Our nurse helped me into a wheelchair and was right there assisting me. Which is a damn good thing, because when I went to wash my hands…. I fainted. Because, you know, we’d had such a low-key day and could really have used the extra drama to spice things up.

The nurse was able to catch me, or to at least guide my tumbling body back into the wheelchair. She wheeled me back into the room, ran out into the hallway and got all of the available nurses and they were able to bring me back to conscience fairly quickly with some ammonium chloride. To say that I was freaked the fuck out by the experience would be a bit of an understatement. But I guess it’s not uncommon to faint after giving birth. You have just put your body through the ringer, after all. And, not to toot my own horn, but I did go from 2 centimeters to baby in about four hours.

They put me back into bed and covered me with heated blankets and checked all of my vitals. And then I took a little nap, because I was completely exhausted and overwhelmed by the whole process. They were eventually able to wheel us down to the maternity ward where we spent the next few days recovering and getting to know our little love bug. Lilian spent a few hours in the nursery while I slept some more and then they brought her in, freshly bathed, swaddled in a receiving blanket and moving her little mouth around to say “feed me! feed me!” All I could do was gasp and say, “she looks just like an angel!”

It was a bit of a harrowing process, but so worth it. Because we got the most perfect little baby girl out of it. And I’m so very, very happy.