Lil' Eddie's Birthday

Disclaimer: this post is a birth story, just giving you fair warning. If it's too much information for you, I'm not at all offended if you opt not to read it. Mostly I just want to be able to look back and remember the details of Eddie's arrival. And I also enjoyed reading a fair amount of birth stories on other people's blogs, so if there is someone out there like me, here you go--it's a great story!

Jonathan and I had a bet. Whoever's guess was closest to Eddie's actual birthday won the privilege of choosing the activity for our first date without the baby. I guessed Thursday; he guessed the Sunday. He must have been pretty confident I was wrong, because he scheduled about 12 apartment viewings up in Pasadena/Altadena on Thursday. It took all day, and it was exhausting! There were lots of duds, some places that were so-so, and a few we really liked. Needless to say, by the time we headed for home, we were both beat.

Friday morning I was rudely awakened at 4:30am by a contraction. I tried to go back to sleep, but ended up just laying there, resting. I didn't bother to time them or even wake Jonathan, since they weren't much, although steady. And they hadn't changed much by the time we got up a few hours later. Jonathan was planning to go into school, but when they got much stronger once I was up out of bed, and were coming about 5 minutes apart, he decided to cancel his comittments and stay home. After a hearty breakfast, we headed out on a walk down the Strand. The contractions were stronger when I walked versus sitting still or lying down, but I could still easily carry on a conversation. We were almost to the pier when I felt a few little gushes--my water breaking? It wasn't much, but we figured we'd better head back and at least call the Dr.'s office. On the way back, we timed the contractions: every 2 to 2 and half minutes, but they were short, only lasting about 30-45 seconds. Back at the Beach Cottage, I called in and they urged me that even if my water had only broken at a trickle, I should go to the hospital. I really didn't want to get stuck in a hospital room until I had to be, so we took our time getting there--ate some lunch, ran a few errands, stopped by Aunt Sue's for awhile (where I tried to take a nap, no luck). It was about 4:30 by the time we actually got to the hospital, and another hour before we were shown to a triage room. The Labor and Delivery unit was packed! I was hoping they'd send me home, but after making sure it really was amniotic fluid I was leaking, they checked us in for concern of infection. My doctor knew I really wanted to avoid pitocin, but from the get go she explained they'd have to start me on it if things weren't really going midnight. 

And so began our very, very long night. I hadn't slept since 4:30am, and hadn't eaten since a late afternoon snack at Sue's, and there we were, laboring all night long. I tried walking the halls, but I could only do that when I wasn't hooked up to the monitors keeping track of the baby's heart rate. The nurses were supposed to have me on the monitor for 15 minutes, then I could walk for 45, but they were so busy they'd often hook me up and forget about me for the better part of the hour. I mostly sat on an exercise ball and listened to the thumping of Eddie's heart, focusing and breathing my way through contractions which were still only about 5 minutes apart although they were growing in intensity. Thankfully, I always had steady contractions so they didn't have to start pitocin. Sometime during the night, Jonathan got a little sleep, and I laid down to try and rest. By 4am I was back on the ball, this time with Jonathan behind me rubbing my back--little Eddie was sunny side up and giving me some horrible back labor. 

Those early morning hours were the best. I was most focused, Jonathan was a great help, I had a wonderful, encouraging nurse, and things seemed to be progressing. They broke my water the rest of the way at about 6am when I was 100% effaced and 6 cm dilated, and while I was really tired, I was also really excited for things to be moving along--I couldn't wait to meet Eddie!

Over the next five hours, the pain intensified, as did my exhaustion. By 11, I figured we had to be getting close, and while it hurt really bad and all I wanted to do was curl up and sleep, I thought his arrival would have to be soon! I kept remembering Hebrews 12 where it describes Jesus enduring suffering "for the joy that was set before him". That's what I wanted, to persevere through the pain because I knew it'd be worth it! But it became harder and harder to maintain that perspective. What was left of my energy faded when my doctor checked, and I was still at 6 cm. She gently told me that the contractions would have to get a lot stronger in order to make any progress, and since it'd been so long since my water had first broken, they would have to start me on pitocin. After Jonathan and I talked, I decided I'd get an epidural. We were both so exhausted and the thought of making it through even one more contraction--let alone many and at a higher intensity--was just too much. 

The decision made, I settled in to what I thought would be the longest hour yet, as I would have to keep enduring the contractions while they got enough fluids into me to give me the epidural which would then take a while to take effect. But actually, it wasn't too bad. The IV diluted the hormone causing the contractions and they grew fewer and farther between. Getting the epidural went well, although any medical procedure tends to make me nervous. 

As the pain lessened, I was finally able to rest. I dozed some, but noticed after a few hours that I was really shaky. I thought it was just tension and nerves; like I said, any kind of medical procedure makes me anxious. But it turns out my blood pressure did something funky, and at the same time, the baby's heart rate had been spiking. They thought maybe Eddie wasn't liking the pitocin too much, although it was barely on. The nurse put an internal monitor on him, changed my position to something he'd hopefully respond better to, and also shot some more water into the womb since the other theory was that his cord was drying out since it'd been so long since my water broke. And the anesthesiologist came back in to give me a shot to help with the blood pressure thing. On top of all that, my contractions had slowed way down while they should have been increasing from the pitocin. Jonathan woke up in the middle of all this chaos. Everything seemed to be going wrong. He hid it really well, but he was really worried. I, on the other hand, felt great. Along with relief from the pain and finally being able to rest, I was also overcome with peace. I was so sure God could just say the word, and we'd have our baby boy, safe and sound. 

It was about 4pm, and Steven and Aunt Sue came to see how things were going. While Jonathan went out to update them, my nurse discovered why the contractions had all but disappeared. The pitocin had never been plugged in. It's a good thing I loved her so dearly, otherwise the fact that 4 hours had gone by with basically no progress because of her oversight would have been quite frustrating! In actuality, I'm glad I got those hours of rest, and I think we needed the reminder to trust in God, not the doctors and nurses and all their interventions.

Once they got Eddie settled down and the pitocin plugged in, we were finally in the home stretch! By 7pm, when the new nurse came on duty, it was obvious she was getting ready for the long-awaited delivery. The pitocin had done its thing and monstrous contractions were showing on the monitor. I didn't feel a thing! I could move around, carry on a conversation, it was actually enjoyable! 

A few hours later, I'd done a few trial pushes as the nurse coached me, but we were still waiting. By 9pm I was really uncomfortable and starting to feel quite a bit of pressure. The nurse had me switch positions to ease the discomfort, and suddenly things started clicking. Now with the contractions I could barely keep myself from pushing. Jonathan had to breathe with me through each one, and even then, the urge to push was overwhelming. The nurse was on the phone with the doctor, who was just 5 minutes away. I remember looking at the clock and thinking, I don't know if I can make it 5 minutes! It turned out being more like 15 minutes. They were torturous minutes, but I think they're what kept me from tearing. The poor nurse was starting to look a little frantic; with each contraction she would apply counterpressure to the baby's head while I did my best to resist pushing. Finally, and doctor walked in. I took her presence as liscence to give in and push that baby out! She hurried to get gowned up and ready; Eddie's head was already crowning. When he'd finally decided to come, there was no stopping him! Just a few minutes later, I was holding our son! 

     

 A very fresh Eddie.

 Dad holds Eddie for the first time.

 Eyes open, checking us out.

Showing off his muscles :)

All ready to head home.

Pretty miraculous! Suddenly--well, maybe 42 hours isn't quite "sudden", but...I guess in the grand scheme of things--suddenly there's a brand new human being, with little fingers and toes and a unique personality. Only a great Creator could accomplish something so amazing! What a glorious event!

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