Lucy's Birth Story

December 16, 2008

10:30am
Dave and I arrive at my weekly OB appointment. It is a Tuesday, and I am exactly 37 weeks along according to the little plastic due date predictor tool. Although Dave has only been to two other appointments with me during the duration of this pregnancy (incidentally, both of which involved sonograms), he insists on coming along this morning. Later, he will SWEAR he just had “a feeling” I would be having the baby that day and felt it necessary to come along, but I don't actually believe this since he insisted we take TWO SEPARATE CARS so he could go directly to work afterwards.

10:35am
The nurse calls us back. She has me step on the scale and even though I don't want to look, I can't help it and so naturally, I am horrified when I see her move the weight to an absolutely astronomical number that is approximately nine pounds more than the astronomical number the scale read the previous Wednesday. That means I gained nine pounds in six days. NINE. POUNDS. I try not to cry.

I step into the bathroom to collect my urine sample and pee all over my hand and the cup. So far: crying about state of body and urinating all over self. BUSINESS AS USUAL.

I take my (carefully wiped clean) cup across the hall to the exam room where Dave is waiting. I set it on the counter and climb up on to the exam table. The nurse takes my blood pressure: 144/95. Then she tests my urine for protein. I have a level of +4, the highest reading possible. The nurse smiles an apologetic smile at me. “Honey,” she says, “I would be surprised if you got out of here without a baby today. I'll send in the doctor.” She pats my leg and closes the door behind her and I burst into tears. I AM GOING TO HAVE A BABY TODAY. I am not ready to have a baby! I don't have a hospital bag or a charged cell phone to call anyone with or a NAME.

Dave tries to reassure me that everything will be fine. But then I start thinking about Asher, and about how I am never going to see him the same way again since the new baby will make him look so gigantically enormous and all I can do is cry harder.

Conveniently, this is exactly when the doctor enters. I'm sure she's thinking that the highlight of her day will be operating on the basketcase snuffling away on exam table #2.

She tells me she thinks the baby should come out; that we could probably manage to postpone delivery for a few more days if we really wanted to, but that since I'm at 37 weeks and full term, a few more days isn't going to do anything more for the baby. And those few extra days could be dangerous for my health. I just nod and agree and sweat through my shirt and try not to sniffle too pathetically.

She tells us to report immediately to labor and delivery, where they will get me all set up on the monitors. She says she will be by as soon as she can finish up with her morning patients. We thank her and leave; the receptionist calls out a cheery, “Good luck!” as we pass through the office door.

10:50am
We are to walk to the labor and delivery unit by following the blue stripe painted on the wall. I call my mom from the hallway, but I can't even tell her what's happening because I'm crying too hard, so Dave has to do the dirty work. We pass a lot of people and I am suddenly aware that being hugely pregnant and also hysterical probably makes people think something BAD is happening to us. I certainly don't appear to be filled with joy about the impending birth of my second child.

10:55am
We reach labor and delivery. They've been expecting us, and after five minutes of questioning in the Registration office, we're shown to our room. It feels so weird and so familiar putting on my hospital gown in the bathroom; almost like it was yesterday I was there putting one on to have Asher. But it gets weirder when I come out and get into the hospital bed and discover that one of my nurses is the same nurse I had the last time I delivered. The other tells me her name is Lucille. I tell Dave that I think that's a sign, and Lucille asks me, “A sign for what?” I tell her I want to name the baby Lucy and my husband is holding out on me. Lucille looks horrified that I would name my child this, and shares with us that she has always disliked her name. Well. THANKS FOR YOUR HELP, LUCILLE.

I am asked a ton of intake-ish questions and only make Dave cover his ears when I have to announce my astronomical weight out loud. The questioning lasts for 20 to 25 minutes. I am asked repeatedly to describe my last meal and when it occurred (toast with butter, 8:30am) and whether I am having my tubes tied (no). Honest to God, I am asked by THREE DIFFERENT PEOPLE about my tubes and whether they are to cease functioning after surgery, and NONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WERE MY DOCTOR. Perhaps I look like someone who OUGHT to have their tubes tied? Have they somehow heard that I produce children with verbal communication issues who are going to be a DRAIN ON SOCIETY and require services paid for by THEIR TAX DOLLARS?

11:30am
First round of blood work is drawn. The nurse who draws it is the only nurse in the duration of my hospital stay who listens to me and takes blood from my hand instead of my arm. She is also the only nurse in the duration of my hospital stay who gets blood on the first try.

12 noon
My doctor stops by. Up until now, even the nurses aren't aware that she has recommended we deliver the baby today. The nurses are still operating on the assumption that we are in for testing and monitoring. However, my doctor assures me that what we discussed in her office is still the best course, and therefore would like to go ahead and do a c-section at 3pm, after she finishes up with her patients for the day. Dave and I are TOTALLY FINE with this idea, until we look at the clock and see that it is NOON ALREADY, HOLY CRAP, and that we have exactly three hours to pull ourselves together and call our parents and arrange childcare for Asher and GET A FRICKING CAMERA to take into the delivery room. We start making phone calls, and a few minutes later, Dave departs for home to pick up some necessities. I watch HGTV and listen to the baby's heartbeat on the monitor and just generally chill out for the next hour or so.

1:30pm
Dave is back, my mom is here and I still feel completely calm. I send a couple of text messages and post to Twitter, but I'm not ready to make any phone calls. I don't know why, exactly, except that I don't really relish the idea of explaining to everyone WHY I'm in the hospital to have my baby two weeks earlier than planned. It's possible that it's my own fault, as I have a really hard time paring down the details to what is really necessary and always end up blabbing my entire medical history to whoever I get on the phone, so it's probably for the best.

The activity in the room starts to pick up right about now – almost like we're getting ready for Major Abdominal Surgery and the Producing of a Human Infant from My Womb. I use the bathroom a few times, knowing a catheter is just around the corner waiting for me. Nurses come in and out bearing all kinds of prep items. Dave tries to get a wireless signal through the window and fails miserably. I hate not being able to update everyone on what's happening via the Internet. This means I am a big fat loser, I think.

2:30pm
Dave is handed a set of scrubs. I am given my hair net. A nurse named Doris tells me about the procedure, and how I will walk down the hall to the OR of my own accord. Dave will sit outside while I get my spinal placed, and then she'll bring him in and we'll begin. NOW I'm getting nervous.

Another nurse comes in with my post-surgery pain medication pump. It looks like a big square, plastic alarm clock. I will be hooked up to it after surgery and will be able to press a button once every ten minutes to dispense pain medication at my own pace. I watch as she accidentally drops it on the floor. I shouldn't have laughed under my breath – immediately post-surgery, I will go more than an HOUR without any pain medication AT ALL because the dropped pump WON'T BE WORKING. My pain will get to a 10 on the pain scale and I will grip the bars of the hospital bed and cry until someone finally injects me with a big syringe full of something that makes the pain subside but makes me vomit through the rest of the night. Dear Nurse Butterfingers: I will never forget you, BUT FOR ALL THE WRONG REASONS. Love, Emily

2:55pm
Here we go. I am escorted down the hallway by several nurses. Dave stops at some point to sit on his chair. I am so preoccupied by the idea of the spinal that I don't even notice. I am just hoping that this time they don't have to try to insert the block SEVEN TIMES before they get it right. (Flashback!)

3:00pm
Doris and I walk into the OR. It seems so much smaller than it did the last time. I am able to climb up on the table myself, and Doris introduces me to the OR team, which she insists is the “A-Team” of the OR. Everyone laughs. Doris is clearly well-liked around these parts. I am introduced to Charlie, who I am told is a retired OB who likes working at the hospital as a surgical assistant. Charlie looks like your average, everyday Grandpa. He is very very sweet and very reassuring, but it is still a little bit creepy to spend 15 minutes with my head on his chest while someone swabs my naked back and pokes a gigantic needle into it.

Everyone is in a good mood while I'm having my spinal placed. Christmas carols are playing on the radio, and the staff is cracking jokes and gossiping about the hospital holiday party, which is taking place that night. At some point, my doctor comes in and the conversation turns to her 40^th birthday and the fact that her husband is planning a surprise trip somewhere for her. I agree with everyone else that it sounds romantic, but I beg her not to let him pack for her. “PROMISE ME,” I tell her. “I speak from experience.” Everyone laughs.

The anesthesiologist has absolutely zero trouble placing my spinal. Charlie talks me through the process, and he is right about everything: the way my legs get warm, and then tingly, and then go completely, creepily dead. He announces that someone is going to help him swing my legs onto the table, and then they will lay me down and get to work. They grab my legs and spin me around on the table and I, having absolutely no control over my body from the chest down, rip a gigantic fart. It is so loud, and yet, everyone is totally professional about it and no one laughs. I would actually feel better if someone WOULD laugh because OMG I TOTALLY FARTED in front of 15 people. And it was a fart to be PROUD of.

3:15pm
I'm lying down and I can't feel my lower body, but I do know that they've pulled my gown all the way up to just below my breasts. It's probably even more awkward than the farting situation: everyone is milling around and chatting and they're doing it around MY NAKED BODY. How long do you have to be a doctor before milling casually around a naked body is just ROUTINE? They finally put the drape up and I feel better. At least I don't have to look at people looking at my naked body anymore.

This is the moment when I am reintroduced to my Very Favorite Thing about having c-sections: a plastic blanket filled with hot air that rests atop every part of my body I can actually feel. This thing is like heaven. I remember how much I loved it last time I was in this OR, but this time I'm way more relaxed about being cut open and so if it's possible, I have expanded my capability to love it even more. I profess my undying love and devotion to the blanket for the next 15 minutes, until I have an actual baby to profess my love for, that is.

Dave is allowed in and he sits down beside me. He takes my hand. So. This is it. We are about to have a baby.

3:25pm
They make the first incision. A few moments later, my doctor says something about being thankful I didn't try for a VBAC. Apparently my uterus is stretched so thin that she thinks the contractions of labor would have ruptured it. Later she asks the nurses to check under the baby's hat a second time and make sure she didn't cut her when she made that first incision – THAT'S how thin my uterine wall was. So thin that SCALPELS WERE (almost) COMING IN CONTACT WITH MY BABY'S DELICATE HEAD.

3:30pm
The doctor tells Dave he can stand up and look over the drape if he wants. She's about to pull the baby out; does he want to see? Dave stands up, but I can tell it's out of politeness and not curiosity. He watches as they forcibly yank her from my womb. (He does a hysterical reenactment of the process in the recovery room.)

Up until this point, everything has felt so surreal. All day, I've tried really hard to take everything one step at a time and have tried not get too worked up about the next thing coming my way, to the point where I've almost forgotten that the end of the process is a brand-new, squalling infant that belongs to me; that was CREATED by me and grown inside my body. It seems almost too crazy to believe, but then there she is, and she's crying and she's real and she's my baby girl and I'm crying too because something is different this time around. I'm not frightened or worried or nervous about how I'm going to do it. I know I want her and I know how awesome it's going to be, so this time, I just go ahead and love her immediately.

 

Lucy Claire
Born 12/16/2008 at 3:30pm
5 pounds, 11 oz; 19 inches long

!!!
Postpartum experience is a WHOLE DIFFERENT POST. One I'll most certainly get to. (The lack of pain medication! The nurse from hell! The swelling that made me look like a robot! The MESH PANTIES, HOLY CRAP YOU GUYS, THEY CHANGED UP THE MESH PANTIES AND THEY'RE NOT AS GOOD AS THEY WERE LAST TIME!)

Comments

[Michelle]

Am I the first to post? That never happens.

Congratulations! Your description of her being born made me sentimental about my own cesarean birth of my second child/first daughter.

But it also made me grateful for my husband's vasectomy!

[Shannon]

I'm one of those crazy mommies who loves birth stories so thanks for posting. And, if I didn't say it before, I LOVELOVELOVE your choice of names. Lucy is a great choice! And congrats on making it through the whole thing by the way!

[Carrie]

Wow- you went through a lot that day! I'm glad you and Lucy are both doing well.

I was under general for my last c-section, so have no idea of what the experience entailed, so am glad to have a glimpse of what to expect. Except for the whole lying around naked part. Going to pretend I didn't read that. :)

Congrats again!

[kristin]

I've been following your blog for a while now, and I'm always amazed at your ability to make me giggle out loud. Your posts are hilarious. I had two c-sections as well, and the last one was in April. I hear you on the mesh panties - WTF? Can't wait to read more! Congratulations on that beautiful baby girl.

[Trishfreak]

Had to delurk to tell you that I laughed for a solid 10 minutes with the 3:00 section. I laughed so much that the baby I'm baking is moving and kicking me like crazy. Congrats on Lucy, she's gorgeous!!

[emmysuh]

I very seldom actually literally LOL but I did about the fart. Sorry for laughing at your embarrasment.

When I was in the hospital (for something not NEAR as intense as a C-Section) I LOVED the warmed blankets too. They're the best.

And finally, I very politely but very emphatically DEMAND a video of Dave doing the reenactment of out of the womb baby grabbing.

[Courtney]

I love birth stories and Lucy is beautiful. That SUCKS about the dropped pain meds dispenser not working. Ouch!

[Shauna]

Omg that last paragraph/picture made me cry! Lucy is beautiful with a beautiful name. I have always dreamed of naming my daughter Lucy, Lucy Anne to be exact. But congratulations again!

[Shannon]

This might be the best (and funniest) birth story I've read. Congrats on the gorgeous baby!

[Maggie]

Okay, I'm now 100% sure I will not make it through a c-section. The naked! The farts! OMG! And the no pain medication- I am dying just thinking about it.

You look GORGEOUS in that picture, by the way. So glowy!

[andrea]

Oh my god the fart, I am so happy I am not the only one to have done this. Right after I got my epidural I ripped one so loud it stopped both my husband and sister in their tracks. I actually then had to ask them if it came from me, as if one of them would have done it. They still tease me about this two years later.

So glad that in the end everything worked out and you now have a gorgeous baby girl to show for it all!

[jessica]

You have no idea how many times I have clicked over here WAITING for something new. HOORAY! Now post again. Nevermind that baby that needs you, I'm pacing the floor waiting for contractions to start and need distracting! [/selfishness]

Holy cow, yes on the mesh panties! I pulled them out of my birth kit the other day trying to explain the wonderfulness to my husband and they are DIFFERENT. Why change a good thing, why?

[Lisa M]

Such a lovely post...almost as lovely as your daughter. Congrats again, and hoping that Lucy's taking it easy on you (doubtful, but I'm hoping).

[Diane]

LOVE the part about Lucille. So helpful, she was.

And the mesh panties! I know! I thought maybe they were just different at my hospital. It was so disappointing. They were humongous and droopy and DAMN IT I JUST HAD A BABY AND I WANT SOME DECENT MESH UNDERWEAR.

[Frema]

If it makes you feel better, I totally laughed at your gigantic fart.

Also: no pain meds? For an HOUR?! Oh, there would be hell to pay!

Wonderful birth story. Can't wait to hear the rest.

[Swistle]

Okay, you are SO RIGHT about the mesh panties. W!T! I brought out the underwear I'd worn to the c-section and put that on instead. The nurses were all disapproving and tuttish about it, warning me that they might get stained, but I was like, "I DO NOT CARE, I AM NOT WEARING THE FISHNET ONES."

[Megan]

Great story! I just had a (third) c-section six weeks ago, and I was surprised at what your story made me remember...I had blocked out details already! Congratulations on Lucy...she is beautiful and I love her name. Alas, I have three boys but Lucy was on my list of girl names had I ever had a chance to name one!

[H]

This is hilarious! Thanks for sharing and I can't wait for the rest of the story...

Congratulations too!

[Danell]

You look so fabulous in all of your pictures! Congratulations again and hope that your new year is going smoothly! You know, relatively speaking.

[Patty]

Oh, what a beautiful story! I'm sorry about all the sucky parts, though. ;)

You make me terrified to try for a VBAC, though - eeeeek at the super-thin ute!

[Hilary]

Wow, I love this story. I love the conversations you remember, the characters in the room, and of course, "I know how awesome it's going to be, so this time, I just go ahead and love her immediately." Congratulations and Happy New Year!

[Nothing But Bonfires]

Well, *I* totally laughed at the farting, if that helps.

What a lovely story. I could read these all day -- way better than A Baby Story on TLC.

[Carol Minter]

Oh Emily,

I LOVE your writing. I am sitting alone in the office and laughing out loud. I especialy love the fart part. We all probably have similar very embarrasing stories. Hard to keep any dignaty. You are the GREATEST. Love, Aunt C.

[beyond]

love this story! even if it made me feel a bit queasy. blood drawing, needles in spine etc, i'm a bit sensitive to all that. laughed out loud at the fart. (and fart stories are almost never funny to me)
congratulations and happy happy 2009!

[Shannon]

OK, um, Emily? Were the mesh panties EVER good?!