Continued from yesterday…
The morning arrived quickly and after I ate half of that bagel, so did the pain. It was intense. I didn’t realize how much I missed the darkness of our room the night before until the sunlight overwhelmed our space.
I was miserable, and over being pregnant. It had been more than twenty four hours in a tiny room with Steve, and multiple different medical professionals. I had little sleep the night before and was feeling like poop. The nurse encouraged me to shower that morning. She said it would make me feel better and get me moving. I had an IV in my arm and was having contractions. You can imagine how glorious that shower felt.
When CJ was born a doctor delivered him. It was intense, I am not going to lie. The doctor was between my legs encouraging me to push. When I say encouraging, I mean yelling. For Ella, I had a midwife and the experience was completely different. She was calm and extremely soft spoken. Each time she came in the room she sat at the edge of my bed and rubbed my arm. We talked about my birth plan and she encouraged me not to rush things. Deep breathing and slow pushing was her advice to ensure the least amount of trauma to my body. In theory, it sounded great.
Things escalated as to be expected. The contractions started coming closer together and the pain was more intense. I finally was able to get an epidural and for a few hours felt great. I remember sitting in bed talking to Steve and my water broke. Changing the sheets was a chore because I wasn’t allowed out of bed at that point. There was a lot of rolling for me and lifting for Steve.
The time had finally come and I knew it. The epidural had stopped working and my body was telling me to push. It happened quickly. The room wasn’t ready. There was scrambling. I was told to wait. I still think it’s hilarious for anyone to ask a pregnant woman in pain to wait to push, something her body is naturally telling her to do. I did my best and held off until everyone was ready. My heavy breathing skills were put to the test and on point.
The midwife sat next to me on the bed and calmly talked me through the delivery. She was looking at the area where the baby was going to exit and feeling my belly. She was so encouraging. The stress level in the room was extremely low. It was after the fourth push that things dramatically changed. She yelled for me to stop pushing and someone was told go find the doctor. Within a minute he arrived, assessed the situation, and took action. I will tell you his action felt like his entire arm went up my crotch to turn Ella around.
Two more pushes and at 2:07 pm, she was here. She weighed 8 lbs, 6 ounces and was 22 inches long. She was perfect, and immediately placed on my chest. I remember crying so hard. Despite hoping she was a boy from conception, I was so happy to be holding the little girl I had always wanted.
When things are happening around you and you are living in the moment, you don’t always read the room correctly. It wasn’t until after things settled that I was told I was moments away from a c-section and an OR had already been prepared. Apparently Ella had originally arrived in an angel face presentation. This means that her nose and eyes were the first body parts seen when she was ready to come out. Because of this presentation my first few pushes has resulted in Ella smacking her head against my pelvic bone. Luckily the doctor was able to correct her positioning. If not we surely would have been talking surgery to get her out.
Two pushes later she was out and behaving like most newborns do. She did have swelling, and what was the beginning of bruising from where her face had hit my pelvic bone. She stayed with us for a bit and then went to the nursery to get cleaned up. I needed to do the same, but not before a few rounds of tossing my cookies. Damn that bagel. It was my demise.
Ella was formula fed, so each night before we went to sleep we would send her to the nursery. We anticipated little sleep when we got home and wanted to rest while we could. Little did we know the next ten days would be some of the most trying and emotional days of our lives.
The night before we went home, Ella was wheeled into my room around 2 am. Steve was with me. They told us they had pricked Ella’s foot to do her newborn screening and she had stopped breathing. They needed to assist her to get breaths back. After that I went numb and stopped listening. I am thankful every day Steve was there to hear and process what was said. They brought her down to the NICU and that would become her new home for the next week and a half.
One of the best feelings in the world is having a baby. One of the worst is leaving the hospital without them.
Our time in the NICU was interesting, for sure, and one day I promise I will share those details. Today though, we celebrated Ella and all the goodness that goes with that!
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