Processing

It’s been over a week now since Lillian’s birth. Already! Last Tuesday, one day after Junebug’s due date, Jeff and I welcomed our daughter into the family. I’ve been avoiding this very act of sitting down at the computer to process the experience. It was a tough evening. In my overly hormonal and emotional postpartum state, I really don’t want to overdramatize the whole thing; after all, labor is labor — painful and agonizing and traumatic, even at its best. So I’ll try to just stick to the story.

I began the day around 8:00, when my water broke as I rolled (literally) out of bed. I was ecstatic. So ready for the baby to make her appearance! Soon I had a second experience of my water breaking. I called my widwife, who said she would call me back in an hour to check my progress, and I began tossing last-minute toiletries and such into our hospital bag. I hadn’t had any contractions, so Jeff went on to work. Around 11:00, I still hadn’t felt any contractions, but I asked Jeff to come home — I was worried that once the contractions started, things would move quickly. Shortly after lunch, we headed to my clinic to have my midwife take a look at things. Still no contractions. They strapped a monitor around my belly for 20-30 minutes to make sure Baby was doing well. She was ready to perform, and stayed active the whole time. Everything looked great.

My midwife suggested that we return home and just wait for contractions to start. We learned, though, that I had to deliver by 8:00 the next morning — within 24 hours of my water breaking. I really didn’t want to be induced, so we just prayed that Baby would come quickly!

We went on a walk to try to speed things up, and that’s when my contractions started. With Charlie, my entire labor was back labor, so I wasn’t really sure what a normal contraction was supposed to feel like! This time, just my luck, I had regular contractions with intense back pain thrown in just for kicks. Misery!

So labor started at 3:30. We stayed home for a couple of hours as contractions grew more regular and more intense. I felt like I was coping quite well — we even stopped at Corner Bakery on our way to the hospital so that Jeff could get supper — but I was eager to be checked in at the hospital.

During the check-in exam, I learned that I was dilated 5 cm. A tad discouraging, since contractions were getting quite painful and I didn’t want this labor to be long! We were told the only room available was a small one, so we would start there and be moved later as soon as a larger one opened up.

Side note: one reason I was so excited about delivering with a midwife was her promise to meet us at the hospital and stay with us until after the baby’s birth. My doctor in Vancouver did this, and I realized looking back on that experience that Dr. Telford’s constant presence had been really valuable and key in my ability to deliver Charlie without medication. Fast-forward to last Tuesday: my midwife told me she had a class until 8:00 pm, but would be at the hospital asap. So without questioning her, I just assumed that a back-up doctor from the same practice would be there in her place until she arrived. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case.

So we were directed to the teeny tiny delivery room, and for the next hour or two, I labored with the help of Jeff and one nurse. Contractions got really intense, and because the pain was in both my belly and my back, I couldn’t really find a comfortable position. I tried lying down, lying on my side, rocking back and forth on a ball . . . but just couldn’t settle in. So I resorted to screaming instead. =)

By the time my midwife arrived, I didn’t have the energy or the sound mind to acknowledge her or discuss anything with her. And this is where the evening went wrong. Later, when I was sure I couldn’t continue, when I was not at all coping well, the person trying to coach me was someone I hadn’t even looked in the eyes yet, someone I hadn’t developed a rapport with. And apparently rapport is important for me.

So around 8:00 I was at 7 cm. We were taken to a larger room. I started begging for an epidural. From our “birth plan” discussion, my midwife knew I really didn’t want any medication whatsoever if at all possible, so she and Jeff would kindly distract me or redirect my focus when I voiced my pleas for medicinal relief.

The next 53 minutes are a total blur in my mind. I remember feeling completely panicky and out of control, and recognizing that I wasn’t using my energy well. But I couldn’t figure out how NOT to scream. Suddenly I was ready to push, and the midwife and nurse began frantically scurrying about, trying to calm me down while readying the room for the baby’s arrival. I pushed twice, and then there was a crying little gooey girl on my belly. I couldn’t believe it! She’s here? I’m done? The pain is gone?! I have a daughter?!!

Then there was the pain of being cleaned up and patched up, but I’ll spare you those details. Finally alone in our room, Jeff and Lillian and I could bond a bit. Jeff and I were so excited to have the labor over with, and some time left in the evening to make a few calls and brag about our baby girl and process the whole experience. We were feeling good.

But suddenly I felt really faint, like I might pass out. The nurse came in, checked my blood pressure, and immediately called the midwife in, who called the doctor in. My blood pressure had dropped dramatically. And so began another hour or so of poking and prodding to find out what was wrong. I had what my midwife later called a postpartum hemorrhage. Too much bleeding, which hadn’t been evident to the midwife earlier because my blood was clotting and collecting in my uterus. So that was fun. They hooked me up to an IV (grrrr), gave me a few drugs, and put a blood pressure cuff on my arm that would do its thing every 15 minutes through the night.

Meanwhile, Jeff was across the room, holding Lillian and listening to the discussion. Soon HE wanted to pass out! He wisely set Lillian in her bassinet, and lay down on the floor, at which point someone exclaimed, “We have a dad on the floor!” Thank goodness he was fine — just a little woozy. What a night we were having!

Eventually everything was resolved. We sent little Lillian to the nursery for the night (I swore I wouldn’t!) so that I could rest. We all returned home early Thursday afternoon.

So there’s the story of Lillian’s grand entrance! I could say a lot about our first week with her, but she’s waking from a nap, ready to eat. Overall, she’s been a mystery and a challenge — sleepy one day, taking naps in her own bed, then screaming and fussy and resisting her bed the next day. We have so much to learn about each other! But we’re enjoying this sweet little addition to our family — she’s beautiful and healthy and pink and animated and just all-around adorable. We’ll keep you posted!