On Tuesday, August 11, I had a doctor's appointment to see how "ripe" I was for labor (apparently I'm produce?...because that's the term they use). So the doctor said I was dialated to 2cm and almost 100% effaced. Okay...my due date wasn't until the 23rd...so I guess we should finish buying baby stuff really soon? I wasn't having major contractions--just Braxton Hicks contractions that I had felt since month 5 and were getting progressively more painful.
Couple days later takes us to Thursday. Thursday evening I was fed up with being pregnant and determined to speed things along. So, I went for a nice loooong walk with Marcos, after which I came home and bounced up and down on an exercise ball for a while (put gravity to work!). The next day I went into labor. Now, I'm not starting/reinforcing any old wives' tales...because correlation does not necessarily infer causation...but what can I say? This worked for me.
FRIDAY. Friday evening we went to the hospital because I was having major contractions. I was dialated to a 3 or 4 when I got admitted. I held out for as long as I could with the contractions getting ridiculously painful, then asked for the epidural. They told me I'd have to wait a while, because the anesthesiologist was with another girl having a c-section. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!
So I had to wait about an HOUR (which in labor-time is about a YEAR) for the guy to come. During that time, they gave me Stadol which they say is supposed to "take the edge off the pain" when really it just takes the edge off your consciousness so you're so delirious you don't know what to do about the pain, but you STILL FEEL THE PAIN. My contractions got so bad the world went fuzzy and all I can remember is begging Marcos for drugs and telling him I can't do this anymore because my brains will explode.
Finally, the anesthesiologist came...and to my dismay asked Marcos to leave before he would give me the epidural (I guess too many people faint when they see the huge needle). Marcos left. The guy took forever....for.ever....to prepare for the epidural. He had me SIGNING PAPERWORK before he would give it to me....while I'm having *blinding* contractions. Like I can even read what I'm signing!
So, the guy did a "test poke" to make sure it's in the right place before the real poke, and at that moment everything changed. Suddenly, the baby's heartrate monitor started beeping, and the nurse started freaking out about it. My mind was still all whacked out on Stadol, but it understood. Something was wrong with the baby. She said the heartrate dropped. A lot. I found out later it dropped from the usual 140-150 to 52. At that moment, I thought all was lost, and I closed my mind and heart to everything happening, because I thought I lost my baby.
I found out later that at that point, the on-call doctor there for the night heard my code over the loudspeaker while he had his hand up another girl massaging her uterus because she was hemorrhaging badly. He heard the call for me, told the nurse next to him to take over and continue massaging, and ran to me. Once he got to me, he immediately said I needed an emergency c-section and they wheeled me into the operating room, banging my bed against doorways and hallways in their frantic hurry (like in some movie!) and I know this must be bad. All while I'm still having massive contractions. They got me into the OR and put me completely under.
I found out later that Marcos didn't know what was going on and watched me get banged around frantcially down the hall and wheeled into the operating room. He said noone was really telling him what was going on...everything happened so fast...but he stood outside the door of the operating room listening to everything to learn what was happening.
When I was trying to wake up from the anesthesia, someone said "wake up....you have a baby boy..." and my mind said "that's not true." Then a second voice said "wake up....you're thin again..." and my mind said "that's kinda funny." Then I finally saw my Marcos, and he bent over and whispered in my ear "he has your ears." And I smiled slightly and said, "Oh, crap."
They got my baby out in 3 minutes. It was so fast, they didn't have time to do an instrument count and had to wheel in heavy duty x-ray equipment from upstairs so make sure THEY DIDN'T LEAVE ANYTHING IN ME. I mean, I'm glad they check their work...but are you kidding me?!
But I still didn't feel like I had a baby. I mean, I didn't see anything come out! Fortunately, time heals all wounds, and I have day by day been able to bond with my baby and feel like he's mine. It doesn't magically happen like you may think, even though you've carried the baby for 9 months. You still need to build a relationship. So don't feel badly anyone out there if you don't feel an instant cosmic connection to your baby. It happens with time.
Nobody knows why his heartrate dropped to almost nothing like that. Some say maybe the cord got wrapped around...but there was no cord damage. They thought maybe an infection of some sort, so they put him on antibiotics, but they never found infection. In the end, he was just jaundiced and just needed to tan for a while in the ICU. Thank goodness for Priesthood blessings.
Here are a couple of cute pictures to lighten the mood a bit...we are so happy! :)
