Lillian’s Birth Story
I’ve been meaning to write out Lillian’s birth story. I suppose her first birthday is appropriate timing to have it completed! Keep in mind, Brian did a fantastic job of documenting events on the actual day! This is my version.
May 1, 2009: I decided that this day would be my last at work. Not that anything had been happening, but I had wrapped up all of my work, and I was just anxious. Plus, I was sick of walking in each morning with people saying, “You’re still here?!” Man, I really hated that phrase!
May 2, 2009: This day began as any other lazy Saturday. Not doing too much, walking around the neighborhood…neighbors joking about walking the baby out and I laughed through gritted teeth. Hmmm, perhaps I was a bit cranky at the end? Brian was busying himself with reading up on the horses in the Kentucky Derby and preparing to place his bets, I was catching up on the DVR. I started noticing some weird feelings early in the afternoon. I called my friend, Nicole, to ask her if early contractions could possibly feel like gas pains. We had an extended conversation about gas pains. Thank God for friends that you are totally comfortable with!
I started tracking these feelings on an iPhone app once they were clearly starting and stopping. I wasn’t particularly nervous or anything most of the afternoon. For awhile I contemplated taking a shower, but laziness won that battle! Ate a sandwich for lunch and spent the remainder of the day on the couch watching TV.
We first called the doctor around 10:30 p.m. I was starting to get uncomfortable when the contractions hit and would squeeze whatever was near me – Brian, the dog, cat, my blankie! I don’t quite know how to describe contractions, at this point they were just very uncomfortable and I’d rather not experience them so I figured, ‘Why not call the doctor, so I can go to the hospital and have some lovely drugs in me before these contractions get really bad?’ Perhaps it has been too long since the actual day I experienced these contractions because my description above does not support the name that I called my doctor when she told me NOT to go to the hospital yet. I called her a ‘pit whore viper’. Not to her face. To be fair, I’m not really that mean, I think that term was scandalous at the time because of a Celebrity Apprentice episode.
So we tried to sleep. Brian did a great job. Me, not so much. When the contractions were coming every 5-7 minutes, its hard to get some shut eye. I remember walking over to the staircase banister and leaning on it in some weird way that made the pain a little less intense. Finally, around 1am, I woke up Brian and had him call the doctor again. He was under strict instructions to tell her that I couldn’t talk I was in so much main and to say whatever was necessary to let us go to the hospital.
May 3, 2009: We arrived at the hospital around 1:30am. The drive wasn’t so bad, I think the adrenaline made the contractions subside a bit. At the Labor & Delivery front desk they made me sign a bunch of papers mid-contraction. Looking back on my copy of those signatures, I can tell that I was in pain because my name is SLOPPY! For someone who takes great care signing their name, something clearly had to be wrong for me to write out my name the messy!
I was sent to triage, hooked up to a bunch of monitors and given an internal exam. 2 centimeters dilated – not enough to be admitted. They suggested I walk the halls for about an hour and do squats to get things moving because they would not admit me until I was in ‘active labor’ at 4 centimeters. Poppycock! But, walking the halls was a better alternative than going home, so I walked the dark and deserted halls for the next hour. There was only one person actually admitted to the floor and I am so thankful for that because I’m not sure I would have like too many people seeing my behavior as I walked those halls. I wasn’t an evil she-devil barking mean things at Brian, I was just experiencing contractions that seemed to be getting worse each time. I would grab the banister and moan a little while sway from side to side. Then I would do some squats – I am sure that I looked lovely! Finally around 3:30am I was checked again and had dilated to 3.5 centimeters which the LOVELY nurses decided was good enough to have me admitted. Woohoo! At that time I asked when I could get the epidural and the sweetest words came out of her mouth, ‘As soon as you get to your room’. Ahhhh.
I was wheeled to our room, while the nurse was chatting Brian and I up. I would occasionally have to remove myself from the conversation and try to find my happy place each time a contraction hit. I really do think I handled them pretty well despite the intense pain! I think it was around 5:15am that the epidural man came to my room. I was so nervous about having a contraction right when they were sticking the needle INTO MY SPINE! But, these people know what they were doing, and despite hearing some gross cracking noise when the needle was stuck in, the epidural was a piece of cake. Seriously, no big deal! I had about a mile of tape on my back to secure the tube-o-drugs, and I was immediately pain free. Totally pain free! It was wonderful! Oh, look at the great view that we have out our window of downtown Cincinnati! Wow, this labor this is easy!
Shortly after that I fell asleep…and slept…and slept…and slept. To be fair, I had been up for almost 24 hours and having those nasty contractions so the sleep was AMAZING! I vaguely remember waking up from time to time to see Brian pacing the room while pretending to watch one of the Harry Potter movies. I vaguely remember him telling me that our families had arrived. They may have even popped their heads into the room to say, ‘Hello.’ but I didn’t care – I was enjoying my sleep!
I awoke sometime in the morning to a POP! and then I felt a warm rush…down there. Brian heard the pop from across the room! It was my water breaking! One of the nurses came to clean it up and…I went back to sleep. I rolled over at one point and felt extremely nauseous. I mentioned to the nurse and she casually handed me a puke bowl. I was laying down and couldn’t really move myself, so I turned my head and yacked…not really making it into the bowl, but definitely hitting my hair, gown, bed, Brian, and MY BLANKIE! Ack!
That happened a few more times. It was gross. Brian said that grossed him out more than what happened…down there…during the birth!
Finally, around 11:30am, the nurses started this talk about me having to push. Hello? I am sleeping. I pretended not to hear them. They insisted that I should deliver the baby and I eventually gave in. I remember looking at Brian before my first push. A ‘This is it! Our lives are totally about to change!’ look.
For the next two hours, I pushed. Dozed off a little between pushes. Puked a little between pushes. Got crabby at my family for making the nurse come ask us what was taking so long. Then back to pushing. When Dr. Roberts came in, I knew I had to lock it up and stop falling asleep, she meant business! I never had the ‘urge to push’ feeling. I really couldn’t feel much at all, I think that it why I pushed for so long. I would rather push longer than feel anything that was actually happening…down there. And, yes, I declined the mirror dropping down from the ceiling so that I could watch. No thanks.
Finally, at 1:30, Lillian was HERE! Eight pounds and 21.5 inches of pure joy! In that moment she changed my heart and life forever. I love you Lillian Marie!
Recent Comments