...Lucy's Birth Story...
Now that we've "settled in" (relatively...HA), I wanted to write Lucy's birth story for nostalgic purposes and anyone who happens to be interested.
As odd as it may sound, childbirth is a lot like teaching. When I was in graduate school to get my education degree, every single professor told us that no class can fully prepare you for what being in the classroom is like. Understatement of the century. Childbirth (and Parenting) is oddly the same. I read all the books, newsletters, websites, and Patrick and I attended Childbirth and Infant CPR classes in an effort to be "prepared"......or at least not totally clueless. As anyone with half a brain can tell you, childbirth hurts, but my mother had a horrible epidural with me, so she had my sister naturally. "If Mom can do it naturally, so can I," I thought to myself. Armed with information, I filled out my birthplan, complete with instructions that I wanted to labor naturally as long as possible and have no episiotomy or any other medical interventions unless absolutely necessary. I made my labor playlist, packed my bag with all the comforts of home, and sat impatiently for weeks.
Everyone...and I do mean everyone...was convinced that I would go early based on the gargantuan size of my belly and Lucy's activity level. Strangers on the street had been telling me that I would go "any day now" since Memorial Day. My sister had conveniently planned to be in town the week I was due, and I was desperately willing Lucy to make her move while Morgan was here. Despite all the cosmic force propelling her out early, Lucy held on for a few days after her due date of July 24th. I woke up bright and early at 5:30 on the 26th and had some tell-tale signs that labor was imminent. Of course I was too excited to go back to sleep. Rookie mistake. I was having irregular contractions all day after that, and, as luck would have it, things ramped up when Patrick and I went to clean out his classroom that afternoon. We came home, ate, and began watching So You Think You Can Dance. (That's right. Go ahead and judge me.) My rapt attention to SYTYCD was broken when I noticed my contractions were getting stronger and closer together, so we started timing them. Around 8:00 P.M. they became five minutes apart, and I decided it was time to go hang out at my mom's house in Gastonia until I was sure it was go time. On the way to Gastonia, my contractions became three minutes apart, so we decided to go straight to OB triage at Gaston Memorial.
I had been warned that I would be quickly sent home if my labor wasn't far enough along, so I was terrified that I'd be sent packing and have to wait it out some more at home. My contractions were still three minutes apart when I arrived and stayed that way for a good hour. "YES," I thought, "I am SO going to rocket this baby out in four hours or less." And then....they checked my dilation......One. Centimeter. One. As in the size of a Cheerio. At that point, the on-call doctor decided I needed to take an hour long stroll around the Birthplace to get things moving. It was midnight at this point. As you can imagine, I was just thrilled about this. Patrick and I played word games and other nerdy English teacher things to pass the hour as we lapped the unit five thousand times. My contractions did get stronger, and I actually was excited when I came back into triage to be checked. My enthusiasm was short-lived as all they did was check my blood pressure and the baby's heart rate and declared that I could handle another hour walk before they checked my progress for real. Did I mention it was 1:00 A.M. at this point, and I had been up since 5:30 the previous morning? Yeah. I was not a happy camper, to say the least. As we walked for the second hour, I began to feel my contractions very strongly in my back. Oh God. Was this the dreaded Back Labor that I'd heard so many terrible things about? Cue dramatic, ominous music.
Around 1:45, I had a contraction that was longer and stronger than anything I'd felt up to this point. It was so strong that I had to sit down to catch my breath for a good minute. When I stood up, I felt the unmistakeable sensation of my water breaking. Patrick and I walked faster than I had in months back to OB Triage as I left a little Hansel and Gretel trail of baby juice all the way down the hall. I thought, "Not sending me home now, Suckaz!"After my water broke, my back labor became quite intense, but we had to wait in triage for about an hour before being admitted to a room at 3:30 A.M.....so that was fun. They let me labor for another hour or so before checking my progress. I was definitely feeling every single contraction in my back, and it was NOT what I had bargained for! When they told me I was only 3-4 cm dilated, and that I needed to go on Pitocin to make things happen a little faster, I was heartbroken. My labor plan! No medical interventions! This freakin' hurts! Pitocin is going to KILL ME!!! DON'T YOU PEOPLE UNDERSTAND!?!? When they put the Pitocin into my IV, it was on. My contractions started coming more frequently and much stronger, and it felt as if a railroad spike was being driven into the bottom of my spine with every one. They told me that Lucy was "Sunny Side Up" with the back of her head pressed to my spine. Normally, babies are flipped the other way with their much softer faces against their mother's spine...so it wasn't a railroad spike being driven into my back...just another person's skull. After about an hour, I'd had enough. I quite enthusiastically asked for an epidural. In the meantime, the nurse gave me a shot of something delightful to take the edge off. I was still in pain, but I did. not. care. It felt like I was back in college stumbling onto Franklin Street after a night of libations at Goodfella's. "Oh, my face is on fire? Ya' don't say. What, a bus just ran over my foot? Didn't notice!" My speech even got slurred at one point! It was quite entertaining for Mom and Patrick, I'm sure.
As the day dawned, things must've gotten crazy at Gaston. My nurse came in and said that they were short-staffed and everyone had apparently tried to steal my thunder and have babies on July 27th too. So rude. She needed to tend to a high-risk patient, and I would be getting a new nurse. (I was still high as a kite on the Tequila shot, so I was like, "OKAYBYE.") No offense to my previous nurse, but God knew what he was doing when he put me with my new nurse, Sandy. Imagine your favorite teacher or you best friend's Mom whom you absolutely love. Sandy reminded me of every comforting female figure (aside from my mother) I'd ever had! She was beautiful, reassuring, maternal, and absolutely what I needed! She even had on leopard print clogs, so I knew she was good people. I got my epidural soon after she came on the scene, and everything was so incredibly calm from then on out. I even got a few hours of sleep, which was awesome because they ramped my Pitocin up after that, and I was ready to go within just a few short hours. Out of all the practitioners at my OB/GYN office, of course the one who was on-call was the one doctor I hadn't seen. Naturally. Once again, God knew what was up! Dr. Lynch was amazing! Just like Sandy, he was calm, friendly, and reassuring.
I think all first-time Moms have the same fear: What if I can't push the baby out? What if I need a C-Section? Those were my two huge concerns going into delivery. I couldn't move my legs! If the hospital caught fire, I would have to drag myself out with my elbows! How was I going to know if I was even pushing correctly!? However, Sandy reassured me that I could do it, and do it I did! After less than an hour of pushing, Lucy was about to make her grand entrance. Sandy called Dr. Lynch and told him to "walk briskly" in the direction of my room because it was baby time! He arrived just in time because I only had to perform a few more pushes before they placed my precious Lucy Grace on my chest. I know that every Mom out there feels the same way: words completely and utterly fail when attempting to describe the emotions and thoughts that run through you the first time you see and hold your baby. "This little person just came out of me! Oh God, she's totally mine! Thank you, Lord, for this precious blessing! She's so gooey! Am I holding her head right!?! I love her so much!" I had such a whir of sensations at that moment. I was in shock physically and mentally, I was overcome with positive emotion, and I was exhausted and energized at the same time. The nurses let me hold her on my chest for several minutes before they asked if I was at all curious about what she weighed. Oh yeah, that. I am indeed curious now that you mention it. I was completely surprised when they announced 8 pounds, 6 ounces from across the room. You mean to tell me that I just gave birth to 8 1/2 pounds of person!?!? I was shocked but relieved that she was so healthy.
Crazy. Amazing. Miraculous. Intense. Awesome. Bizarre. Phenomenal. Pick any old adjective you want to describe childbirth. I can assure you that each one will fall short of describing the experience of a lifetime. Even though the majority of my labor and delivery didn't go according to my plan, I couldn't care less. I have a gorgeous baby girl who is all mine, and I thank God for her ever time I look at her!
As odd as it may sound, childbirth is a lot like teaching. When I was in graduate school to get my education degree, every single professor told us that no class can fully prepare you for what being in the classroom is like. Understatement of the century. Childbirth (and Parenting) is oddly the same. I read all the books, newsletters, websites, and Patrick and I attended Childbirth and Infant CPR classes in an effort to be "prepared"......or at least not totally clueless. As anyone with half a brain can tell you, childbirth hurts, but my mother had a horrible epidural with me, so she had my sister naturally. "If Mom can do it naturally, so can I," I thought to myself. Armed with information, I filled out my birthplan, complete with instructions that I wanted to labor naturally as long as possible and have no episiotomy or any other medical interventions unless absolutely necessary. I made my labor playlist, packed my bag with all the comforts of home, and sat impatiently for weeks.
Everyone...and I do mean everyone...was convinced that I would go early based on the gargantuan size of my belly and Lucy's activity level. Strangers on the street had been telling me that I would go "any day now" since Memorial Day. My sister had conveniently planned to be in town the week I was due, and I was desperately willing Lucy to make her move while Morgan was here. Despite all the cosmic force propelling her out early, Lucy held on for a few days after her due date of July 24th. I woke up bright and early at 5:30 on the 26th and had some tell-tale signs that labor was imminent. Of course I was too excited to go back to sleep. Rookie mistake. I was having irregular contractions all day after that, and, as luck would have it, things ramped up when Patrick and I went to clean out his classroom that afternoon. We came home, ate, and began watching So You Think You Can Dance. (That's right. Go ahead and judge me.) My rapt attention to SYTYCD was broken when I noticed my contractions were getting stronger and closer together, so we started timing them. Around 8:00 P.M. they became five minutes apart, and I decided it was time to go hang out at my mom's house in Gastonia until I was sure it was go time. On the way to Gastonia, my contractions became three minutes apart, so we decided to go straight to OB triage at Gaston Memorial.
I had been warned that I would be quickly sent home if my labor wasn't far enough along, so I was terrified that I'd be sent packing and have to wait it out some more at home. My contractions were still three minutes apart when I arrived and stayed that way for a good hour. "YES," I thought, "I am SO going to rocket this baby out in four hours or less." And then....they checked my dilation......One. Centimeter. One. As in the size of a Cheerio. At that point, the on-call doctor decided I needed to take an hour long stroll around the Birthplace to get things moving. It was midnight at this point. As you can imagine, I was just thrilled about this. Patrick and I played word games and other nerdy English teacher things to pass the hour as we lapped the unit five thousand times. My contractions did get stronger, and I actually was excited when I came back into triage to be checked. My enthusiasm was short-lived as all they did was check my blood pressure and the baby's heart rate and declared that I could handle another hour walk before they checked my progress for real. Did I mention it was 1:00 A.M. at this point, and I had been up since 5:30 the previous morning? Yeah. I was not a happy camper, to say the least. As we walked for the second hour, I began to feel my contractions very strongly in my back. Oh God. Was this the dreaded Back Labor that I'd heard so many terrible things about? Cue dramatic, ominous music.
Around 1:45, I had a contraction that was longer and stronger than anything I'd felt up to this point. It was so strong that I had to sit down to catch my breath for a good minute. When I stood up, I felt the unmistakeable sensation of my water breaking. Patrick and I walked faster than I had in months back to OB Triage as I left a little Hansel and Gretel trail of baby juice all the way down the hall. I thought, "Not sending me home now, Suckaz!"After my water broke, my back labor became quite intense, but we had to wait in triage for about an hour before being admitted to a room at 3:30 A.M.....so that was fun. They let me labor for another hour or so before checking my progress. I was definitely feeling every single contraction in my back, and it was NOT what I had bargained for! When they told me I was only 3-4 cm dilated, and that I needed to go on Pitocin to make things happen a little faster, I was heartbroken. My labor plan! No medical interventions! This freakin' hurts! Pitocin is going to KILL ME!!! DON'T YOU PEOPLE UNDERSTAND!?!? When they put the Pitocin into my IV, it was on. My contractions started coming more frequently and much stronger, and it felt as if a railroad spike was being driven into the bottom of my spine with every one. They told me that Lucy was "Sunny Side Up" with the back of her head pressed to my spine. Normally, babies are flipped the other way with their much softer faces against their mother's spine...so it wasn't a railroad spike being driven into my back...just another person's skull. After about an hour, I'd had enough. I quite enthusiastically asked for an epidural. In the meantime, the nurse gave me a shot of something delightful to take the edge off. I was still in pain, but I did. not. care. It felt like I was back in college stumbling onto Franklin Street after a night of libations at Goodfella's. "Oh, my face is on fire? Ya' don't say. What, a bus just ran over my foot? Didn't notice!" My speech even got slurred at one point! It was quite entertaining for Mom and Patrick, I'm sure.
As the day dawned, things must've gotten crazy at Gaston. My nurse came in and said that they were short-staffed and everyone had apparently tried to steal my thunder and have babies on July 27th too. So rude. She needed to tend to a high-risk patient, and I would be getting a new nurse. (I was still high as a kite on the Tequila shot, so I was like, "OKAYBYE.") No offense to my previous nurse, but God knew what he was doing when he put me with my new nurse, Sandy. Imagine your favorite teacher or you best friend's Mom whom you absolutely love. Sandy reminded me of every comforting female figure (aside from my mother) I'd ever had! She was beautiful, reassuring, maternal, and absolutely what I needed! She even had on leopard print clogs, so I knew she was good people. I got my epidural soon after she came on the scene, and everything was so incredibly calm from then on out. I even got a few hours of sleep, which was awesome because they ramped my Pitocin up after that, and I was ready to go within just a few short hours. Out of all the practitioners at my OB/GYN office, of course the one who was on-call was the one doctor I hadn't seen. Naturally. Once again, God knew what was up! Dr. Lynch was amazing! Just like Sandy, he was calm, friendly, and reassuring.
I think all first-time Moms have the same fear: What if I can't push the baby out? What if I need a C-Section? Those were my two huge concerns going into delivery. I couldn't move my legs! If the hospital caught fire, I would have to drag myself out with my elbows! How was I going to know if I was even pushing correctly!? However, Sandy reassured me that I could do it, and do it I did! After less than an hour of pushing, Lucy was about to make her grand entrance. Sandy called Dr. Lynch and told him to "walk briskly" in the direction of my room because it was baby time! He arrived just in time because I only had to perform a few more pushes before they placed my precious Lucy Grace on my chest. I know that every Mom out there feels the same way: words completely and utterly fail when attempting to describe the emotions and thoughts that run through you the first time you see and hold your baby. "This little person just came out of me! Oh God, she's totally mine! Thank you, Lord, for this precious blessing! She's so gooey! Am I holding her head right!?! I love her so much!" I had such a whir of sensations at that moment. I was in shock physically and mentally, I was overcome with positive emotion, and I was exhausted and energized at the same time. The nurses let me hold her on my chest for several minutes before they asked if I was at all curious about what she weighed. Oh yeah, that. I am indeed curious now that you mention it. I was completely surprised when they announced 8 pounds, 6 ounces from across the room. You mean to tell me that I just gave birth to 8 1/2 pounds of person!?!? I was shocked but relieved that she was so healthy.
Crazy. Amazing. Miraculous. Intense. Awesome. Bizarre. Phenomenal. Pick any old adjective you want to describe childbirth. I can assure you that each one will fall short of describing the experience of a lifetime. Even though the majority of my labor and delivery didn't go according to my plan, I couldn't care less. I have a gorgeous baby girl who is all mine, and I thank God for her ever time I look at her!
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