Okay, so here it is. The Birth Story. Nothing gross in here, I promise. I don't want to bore you with all of specifics, so I will try to be brief. I'll try not to use a lot of fancy words or medical mumbo jumbo but there might be a little of it in here just so I can sound like I know what I'm talking about.
December 8th I woke up feeling like CRAP. I called out sick to work and waited for my 2:30 pre-natal visit with my OB-GYN, Dr. Weister. This was a routine visit. Remember that as you read on.
Dr. Weister was running late since he was in the middle of his third delivery of the day. I waited until 3:00 and was called in for my weight and BP check and to pee in a cup for the 50th time. My BP was 170/40. Twice. It had never been higher than 110/60 for the past 8 months. The nurse looked concerned and went to get the doctor. He took my BP again and it was 175/40. Without looking concerned -- he never looked concerned -- he told me that his diagnosis was toxemia/pre-eclampsia and that he would be checking me in to the hospital for 24 hours of monitoring. That's all. Just monitoring.
I went to pick up Rob from work and we went home to pack an overnight bag for me. We arrived at the hospital by 4:00 and were in a bed by 4:10. I put on a gown, my history was taken, they put a BP cuff on me, hooked me up to a fetal monitor, took my temperature and that was that. Or so we thought.
The nurses had me order dinner. Veggie burger and a salad for those that are interested in that sort of thing.
Dr. Weister arrived around 6:00 and didn't seem too worried about anything. That wouldn't last long. The baby's heart rate decelerated. Once. Twice. Dr. Weister gave us the news that the monitoring was over. We would be having a baby tonight. He gave us the option to try for a vaginal (sorry...kind of graphic, I know) birth (which he strongly discouraged us from) or an emergency C-section.
Funny side note: Our 2nd childbirth prep class was currently beginning down the hall as we were making this decision. We didn't know how to breathe. We didn't know what a focal point was. We didn't know how to time contractions. The baby room wasn't done. My baby shower had been only 2 nights before. We made the decision quickly that we didn't know what the hell we were doing and agreed to the surgery. Rob went down the hall to tell our class that we wouldn't be attending after all. I'm not sure if he asked for a partial refund or not...
So much for that routine visit: 7:00 brought a flurry of activity. IVs for me, magnesium sulfate to lower my blood pressure, scrubs and a silly hat for Rob. A quick e-mail to everyone to let them know what was happening. A call to our friend, Laura, to come pick up the house keys so she could take care of the dog and the cat for the evening. A visit from my gorgeous anesthesiologist to discuss how he could best control my pain.
By 7:30 we were in the surgical suite and I was getting my spinal block. Aaaaah. Lovely spinal block. Couldn't feel a thing. Surgical techs needed to lift my legs onto the table because I couldn't feel anything below my ribcage. This was the only part of the whole ordeal that Rob didn't see. Perhaps it would be just too much for the father-to-be to see a 6-inch needle being inserted into his wife's back (sorry again, a little graphic.)
The room was full of people. Dr. Weister, the anesthesiologist, 6 surgical techs, 2 Rn's and a full Neonatal team ready for the worst but hoping for the best. 8:22 p.m. "Happy Birthday, Jack!" shouted the whole room. One big cry and then nothing. Jack was quickly weighed, measured and examined and then swaddled and handed to me. I checked for perfect ears. No idea why. They were, indeed, perfect. Rob joined the Neonate team and I was stitched and stapled and reassured. Rob was back with me within the hour with a full report that Jack weighed 4 lbs 1 oz and was 16 inches long. So tiny.
I was out of recovery and back in my room by 10:00 and Rob sent out the crucial details to everyone and I looked at the zillion photos that Rob had taken for me. The report from the NICU was good. No major medical issues, no need for oxygen or respiratory assistance. No medications. Jack was just small. Very small. He was taking it all like a champ. I wasn't allowed to visit until the spinal block wore off and I could walk on my own. Rob continued to make the trek down the hall to see his shiny new kid while I tried to sleep it off. Rob eventually made an attempt to sleep on the joke of a bed that was provided for him in my room. We both managed to get some sleep. We were parents. How strange to wake up that morning as a married couple, a family of two, and to go to bed as a mom and a dad. A family of three. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?
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