"A Child is God's opinion that life should go on"- Anonymous
James is here! All 8 lbs, 1 oz & 20 inches of him. Here is his story:
Thursday, April 26th, James’ due date came and
went without activity. Not even a single contraction or question of a labor
pain. Patrick had taken off Friday (he was actually worried that he did not
take the 26th off!) and then the following Monday and Tuesday.
Needless to say of these next 5 days, we did everything we could to get this
baby to make his appearance. Patrick and I braved the heat and humidity and
walked miles and miles; watched golfers, let Cooper tug us all around Haile
Plantation, discovered neighborhoods and discussed houses that we liked. We
would cover a couple of miles per day and yet still, nothing stirring. I ate
spicy (went to Moe’s and requested extra jalapenos and I added extra Sriarcha
hot sauce to every thing I prepared). I ate cold items (ice cream, icees went
down much smoother). I did lunges and squats until my knees couldn’t take the
extra weight anymore. My mom swears that Sonny’s baked beans caused her to go
into labor with Ryan (it was on my list of things to try). A friend of my told
me that she had heard the shrimp quesadillas (from a certain Mexican restaurant
in Gainesville) had caused 2 people to go into labor. So off we went to lunch
at Las Margaritas on Tuesday to see if we could get anything to happen. The
quesadilla was delicious, however, the evening came and went and nothing…
The infamous shrimp quesdila
Believe it or not, I had actually been sleeping relatively
well despite my discomfort of a large belly. I only had the typical getting up
and going to the bathroom multiple times per night. So, on Wednesday, May 2nd,
I woke up at 6:30 a.m. and went to the bathroom. All was normal and I got back
in bed. Since my last day of work was Friday April 20th. It was a
luxury to return to sleep. I woke up 30 minutes later having to go to the
bathroom again. I remember thinking “really, I can’t even make it half an
hour?” When I stood up however, I realized that my water had broken (the
thought that maybe I had wet the bed at 27 years crossed my mind and would
have been a stronger contender if I had not just been up! And you start to question all the weird things your body does to you when you are pregnant). Of course, this was
Patrick’s first day back to the clinic after having a 5-day weekend and he was already gone. I called
and he hadn’t reached the dental school yet. We were told (especially with the
first birth) that labor would most likely take a while. He really only had
patients scheduled in the morning, so he asked if he should stay at school and come at lunch. Figuring I had hours, I said it
was fine. I hadn’t had a single contraction at this point and figured this baby
wouldn’t be here well into the evening. I called my mom and told her she needed
to come and her and my dad packed up. (Later I found out that she went back on
the porch and finished her coffee, which was my fault because I led her to
believe that she had plenty of time). Patrick called his mom and she headed down
as well. I called the hospital and told them; they asked if I had peed myself; I assured them I was in labor and they told me to come in. They asked
how far I lived so they would know what time to expect me; I padded the time so
I could get some things done. In the mean time, I had
breakfast, took a shower, put some make up on, finished some last minute
cleaning of the kitchen and made sure I was happy with how mine and James’
hospital bag was packed. Patrick had called back to tell me that all of his co-residents
and faculty told him to leave when he showed up and told them my water had
broken. I was glad for that because at about 7:45, the contractions started. He
came home and changed. We took a couple of last minute pictures of our lives
before James entered into them.
We got into the car and started the 15-minute drive to the
hospital. It started to seem that with each passing contraction, they were
progressively getting stronger and stronger. I actually had a follow up OB
appointment that morning at 10:30, so I called to cancel that. They put me on
hold (during a contraction and I’m pretty sure it was the only time that I
cussed during the entire labor) and then connected me to my doctor’s RN, who I
had been dealing with for the past 9 months; of course, she asked the
obligatory “are you sure you didn’t just pee on yourself”. I was starting to
wonder what kind of person they thought I was (apparently not house broken with
the amount of times I had been asked this question). Once again, I explained no
and she said she would check on me later when I was admitted. I remember
looking at the clock and it said 8:32.
Patrick dropped me off at the front door and I walked up to
the 3rd floor. I was met by my labor RN, Joanna. She took me into
the triage room and make sure I was really in labor. By
this time, the contractions were coming fast, frequent and strong. I think at
this point, I was asked (for the last time) if I had merely wet myself. She did
some sort of litmus test where she said if it was blue it was urine or if it
was black my water had truly broken. It came back jet black. They hooked up the
monitors (which is crazy to track your contractions; Patrick would tell me when
they were peaking and help me through. I would stare at him and just wait for
him to tell me the worst was over).
I was doing my best to breathe through the contractions, but it was
definitely becoming more and more difficult. She asked if I intended on having
an epidural. At this point, I was in pain, but not so much that I didn’t think
I couldn’t handle it. About this time, Amy called me and I was in no position
to talk. Joanna finally decided to check me to see how far along I was (for the
past three weeks I was about 3 cm dilated and 80% effaced). She said depending
on where I was, they would get me a room. Her exam was more painful than any of
the contractions I had so far. Turns out I was 6-7 cm dilated and fully
effaced. I mean really?! I wanted to scream “does everyone believe me now?! I’m
ready for a room.” I walked down the hall to my room, about which time Anna had
arrived. Patrick called my mom to tell her I was 6-7 cm dilated and she made my
dad speed up! My contractions were coming a minute and a half apart. It was
about 10:00.
Once I got “settled” (there is no such thing in active
labor), Joanna asked me again about an epidural and since I was getting almost
no break between contractions, I said, “YES!” Luckily, the CRNA and the
anesthesiologist were literally at the nurses’ station outside my door. Joanna
brought in a liter of fluid and said that it would need to be given before I
could get the epidural. I asked her to do nothing else, but get an IV in me
(for those who know I’m terrified of needles, probably would never think these
words would come out of my mouth) and start that fluid. It infused quite
quickly, I have to say. Gary, the CRNA came in to get me started. The
anesthesiologist quickly went through the consent and risks. They said that
they normally wait til there is a lull in the contractions, but since this was
not happening for me, they just went ahead and plowed on through. Gary was amazing.
I didn’t feel much of anything (and maybe because I was in so much contraction
pain, that epidural pain was nothing). And within 5 minutes, I was relaxed and
able enjoy the rest of my labor. (I support anyone who wants to have a natural
childbirth, but it turns out that was not for me. I would have hated to not
enjoy the experience as much as I did.) Soon after the epidural, my parents
made it and they never actually saw me suffering through the contractions. So
then, it turned into a waiting game. I was allowed the obligatory ice chips.
Patrick was amazed watching the contractions come and go while seeing I was
comfortable (when merely an hour before, I was struggling). Dr. Million (one of
Dr. Delker’s associated as she was on night call) stopped in and gave us the
prediction that James would be a lunchtime baby. Joanna wished she wouldn’t
tell people this as it gets their hopes up. So we sat and waited. Cassie, the
respiratory therapist came in and set up the warmer. (I was so thankful to have
someone that I worked with that I didn’t mind being in the room with me). We
listened to his heartbeat, which sounded like horses galloping. I called Amy
back. We watched sports center and the news of Junior Seau. I mainly lay there,
prayed to myself and thought about how my life was drastically going to change
and never be the same after today. Joanna told me to let her know when I felt
pressure in my rear. I felt this the entire time, but I kept saying to myself:
“this is going way too fast for it to be true”, so I just continued to be
patient. She came in and decided to check me. She said I was ready to push. In
all honesty, things moved really quickly. I guess when you come in that far
along it doesn’t take much, but there really wasn’t more time to do much else
than they did.
The beds are like jigsaw puzzles and the bottom section
literally just pulls away when the action gets started. I pushed a couple of times with
Joanna and she announced she was going to grab Dr. Million. They have you push
3-10 second pushes and then let you relax. When Dr. Million came in, she didn’t
get gowned up (when she did finally put her garb on, she looked like a hazmat
worker with booties and all). There was someone who was getting prepped for a
C-section; so she said she was going do the operation and then come back and
deliver James. Thank God for nurses who stick up for their patients. Joanna
said: “you may want to take a look before you leave”. Joanna had me push while
Dr. Million looked on. After one single 10 second push, Dr. Million gowned up (told another RN to find someone else to assist with the C-section) and that was the last I heard about the pending C-section. Now Patrick and I
debate on how many times I pushed, I always say more and he always says less.
So we’ll go with a median; I think in total, I pushed ~15 reps. When James was
ready to make his appearance, he didn’t wait around. They plopped him on my
chest at 12:55 pm and I just stared in disbelief that this little life was now
ours. I helped clean him up a little and he just felt so comfortable in my
arms. I hated to give him up to get cleaned up and checked out. Stats were 8
pounds 1 ounce, was 20 inches long and an APGAR score of 9, 9. He promptly peed
(twice!) on Cassie. Patrick quickly moved in at the warmer to admire our little
boy.
The rest of the afternoon seems like a whirlwind. Allison
and Lila came soon after James was born. I changed nurses, Erin who works with
the nursery, took over my care (I was sad to say good-bye to Joanna, who was
such an encouraging and calming presence). Erin worked with me on his first
feeding until Ginny (the SLP from UF’s craniofacial team) came over. James was
a champ eater from the beginning and really didn’t have any significant issues
(other than both of us learning new skills). Ashley stopped by before she went
home from covering my maternity leave. By the evening, Gerry, Robert and Laura
had shown up. Dr. Abi came soon after to check in with us and check out his
cleft lip. She left for promising words. We were moved to the post-partum side
of the hospital and geared up for our first night alone (well, really with the
help of RNs) with our newborn. I didn’t sleep at all; turns out percocet makes
me jittery. So even when James was sleeping, I was unable to. Plus, he would
make the cutest sounds in his sleep, but with every sound, I felt the need to
get up and make sure he was still breathing. Patrick was ‘sleeping’ on the pull out couch
next to me. The only way James would stop crying is if he was lying on my chest.
So at 3:00 in the morning, he was sleeping on me. Like I said, he had been
making sounds while sleeping, but at one point he took a deep breath in and let
out the sweetest, most content sounding sigh and my heart was no longer my own
(as if it weren’t already). I just rubbed his back and his butt. I remember
thinking how crazy it was that less than 24 hours ago, I was rubbing his butt
that was on the inside of my belly and now I’m doing the same thing on the
outside.
Despite minimal sleep, I did ok the next day. The dietitians
came to visit. I continued taking the percocet (as I didn’t know that this was
causing me to not sleep). The pediatrician (Dr. Massias) wanted to keep us
another day just to make sure James was eating well. She also didn’t feel
comfortable doing the circumcision (as it may upset babies’ eating pattern). A
professional photographer came and took James’ picture. I tried to get a nap in
the afternoon, but that didn’t happen. I literally think the phone rang 3
times, the RN came to do vitals, the hearing specialist checked James’ ears,
dinner was delivered, baby woke up, etc. By this time, I was starting feel the
effects of no sleep for 36 hours. My mom stayed throughout the second night; it
was definitely a huge help, but I still didn’t get any sleep (hate that side
effect of the percocet; whatever pain killer I took after my wisdom teeth
extraction put me straight to sleep, I wish that would have been an option!).
Patrick came early the next morning to relieve my mom.
When the pediatrician comes, they take all the babies from
that particular group and put them in the nursery. So when they took James that
morning, I think I ended up taking a 90 minute nap. The pediatrician (now Dr.
Mas) said she was happy with his progression, thought he looked good enough to
send home! She also felt comfortable doing his circumcision (which we were
thankful to get over with). He ended up staying out of the room for close to 3
hours and I was amazed at how empty I felt with him gone. I mean 48 hours ago
he was swimming around in my belly and now I
couldn’t even spend 3 hours without feeling like a part of me was missing. When
they finally brought him back to us, it was the fastest discharge in the
history of all mankind and we were finally on our way home. I remember pulling
away from the hospital and just crying. Patrick asked if everything was ok and
all I could tell him was that I was an emotional wreck, but that the tears were
good ones. That I couldn’t believe that we are in charge of taking care of
another life, but that we get the privilege of raising a child and seeing him
grow.
So was it the shrimp quesdilla?? I'll never know, but I will definitely be making a trip to Gainesville for one if my next baby is late!
Last picture as a family of 3 (would have loved to have Cooper there, but doubt they would have agreed to that)
First picture as a new family
8 lbs, 1 ounce
Loving on my new boy
Proud Dad
First car ride home
Newborn picture, 1 day old
**Hopefully, we are getting the hang of things around here and will be able to post more often. Seeing as how it has taken me 11 weeks to finally announce his birth!**
