Since I had reached my due date and nothing was going on, we decided to make as many plans as we wanted for the Christmas Holiday. We went to my company party on the 22nd, cleaned the house for guests on the 23rd and 24th, went to a Christmas Eve dinner, attended Christmas Eve mass, and (baked and) bought lots of food for Christmas Day when both of our families were supposed to come over.
So when I woke up at 12:30 am on Christmas Day with cramps that seemed to come and go, I thought, “Oh, no….” The cramps were like period cramps, but this was the first time that they had a start and stop to them. I tried to go back to bed, since the cramping was minimal at that point, but then I kept waking up every 20 minutes or so. Finally at 2:30, I decided to wake Peter up and said, “How would you like to stay awake with me for a while?”
He knew what that meant and downloaded an app on his tablet to time the contractions. When I went to the bathroom, I noticed a tiny bit of blood, and I just started laughing. I knew my Christmas plans were out the window now!
The app was actually pretty neat because it alerted you when to call the hospital based on the duration and frequency of the contractions. Things were about 4-5 minutes apart, but I felt like I could talk through them for the most part. The hospital said to come on in and get checked out anyway. By this time, it was 4:30 when we arrived at the ER. I noticed that the pain of the contractions had definitely increased to the point where I did NOT want to talk anymore.
They wheeled me into a room where they put monitors on my belly and started monitoring the baby’s heartbeat and the frequency of my contractions. I was 2cm dilated when we came in, and they wanted to watch things for the next 2 hours. The plan changed when a nurse came in and said that the baby’s heartbeat was responding to my contractions, so they were keeping me at the hospital.
They gave me some Cervadil, and from there things progressed rather quickly (or at least it felt quick) with dilation. Once I was 7cm, they moved me to a Labor & Delivery room, which was like a fancy penthouse room. My water broke while I was laying there on the bed, but it wasn’t like a crazy explosion or anything.
Finally the doctor came in and told me that she wanted to make my contractions more regular, since they weren’t consistently spaced. She said they were going to put me on a tiny bit of Pitocin, so I said, “Then let’s get that epidural BEFORE these contractions get worse!” It seriously felt like someone was stabbing me in the stomach with a sword at this point.
The anesthesiologist came in, and I was terrified. Like absolutely terrified to the point where I was shaking. Poor Peter…he was such a trooper. He tried so hard to calm me down, but I was almost crying from being afraid of the epidural. The doctor numbed my back, which was the worst part of the epidural, and I jumped a little when I felt it. When the doctor actually put the epidural needle in, we heard, “Oh, no…I just nicked your spine. Yea…you’re probably going to hurt tomorrow.” I could tell that he felt really bad about it, but I don’t blame him. He then had to give me another epidural in another spot, and that one took effect in about 5 minutes. It was wooooonderful, and I couldn’t feel the contractions anymore! The one thing I did notice about the epidural was that I had the shakes after I got it. I don’t know if it was my nerves or if it was an effect of the epidural, but I felt like I had nervous shakes.
The doctor came in a little while later, and I was 9cm. She said I should start pushing when I “felt the urge.” I had no idea what that meant, but I understood soon enough. The pushing wasn’t horrible…not until a head came out. Holy bajeez. No epidural can stop you from feeling THAT. My throat was soooo dry from all of the deep breathing. The nurses kept promising me that they would get me whatever I wanted as soon as she was born. All I could think about was a nice big Diet Coke — cold and bubbly! So at 4:06 pm on Christmas Day, Emma Rose was born!
She cried a little for about 30 seconds, and then they whisked her off to the corner of the room to clean her off and weigh her. Peter got to hold her first, since I got to hold her for 9 months. I think he was hooked :). I remember looking at her thinking, “Who does she look like? I want a Coke now.” And at this point, I really didn’t care that it was Christmas Day anymore. The hard work was basically over!
The nurses took her back to the corner for a while, so the doctor could give me a few stitches. Yes. Va-jay-jay stitches. I don’t care what they say; the sewing might have been worse than the childbirth. I was slightly terrified, so I sang songs while I held Peter’s hand tightly, “When will it stop? I don’t like this. This is horrible. I want to be dooooone! I thought the pain was ooooover.” Those were the lyrics to my song.
Soon after, my parents came into the room, and Peter finally announced the baby’s name. We had been keeping her name a secret until birth because we wanted a little surprise factor. I think everyone was so excited about Emma’s birth that they didn’t have many opinions on her name…but we are big fans :). Peter’s mom and Jim also came in shortly after, and they were just as excited about baby Emma. Emma’s first gifts were a teddy bear from Grandmom & Grandpop C. and an owl from Grandmom and Grandpop McC.
After that, I remember the nurses taking the baby up to the nursery to clean her off more, and a nurse helped me pee for the first time. Talk about an experience. I have never had to use so much equipment to help me pee before. Two weeks later, things are finally starting to get less complicated in the bathroom department.
After a pee, they wheeled me up into the Mother Baby floor, and lots of family greeted Peter and me there. I honestly don’t really remember much of the conversations that we had or what people gave us. I was dead tired at this point. I do remember being happy that my brother and his wife were able to be there, since they were flying out of the country on Dec. 26 to go on their honeymoon in Jamaica.
The next few days in the hospital were extremely tiring…mostly because the nurses, doctors, consultants, etc. kept coming into the room every 20 minutes, so we never got any sleep. I started to get a headache/neck ache which I definitely thought was a result of lack of sleep and labor pushing (–you tense up every muscle in your body, so I expected that was why my neck hurt). I had never birthed a child before, so I didn’t think anything of it when I felt like I had been hit by a train.
On Thursday, Dec. 27., we were scheduled to go home. Before we left, an anesthesiologist came in to check on me and see how I was doing. He started to give me funny looks when I told him that I had a strange neck pain when I stood or sat. He said it sounded like the result of the botched epidural #1, but if I could live with the pain, then it would go away in about a week.
We packed all of our stuff up, and I was wheeled out to the car. The wheelchair was excruciating for my neck, since I had to sit up. The car ride home was also absolutely horrible for my neck. Once we got home, I flopped on the couch to lie down.
But we were happy to be home! The dogs were happy, too. Lily was curious enough to give a good lick to Emma’s head. Lennon was (and still is) very interested whenever Emma makes a noise. We are fine to have them sniff and lick her, but we are trying to manage Lennon’s interest level by giving her billions of toys to keep her busy.
Part 2 to come later!
