I was due on Saturday January 17, 2009. The week prior (Jan. 12-17) was Matt's "immersion week"/ first week of classes for his Executive MBA program at Emory and attendance was mandatory. So that whole week, I sat on the couch reading a book trying not to make any sudden movements that would make me go into labor. Like I wouldn't even drink water so that I had to get up and go to the bathroom. I really did not need to go into labor. He COULD NOT afford to miss anything that week! Luckily, I wasn't having real contractions or anything... just Braxton-Hicks. I thought that if anything, I was going to surly go past my due date. But I was wrong.
I went to bed Wednesday night at around 11:30pm. Matt was doing school work and did go to sleep until around 12:30am. I woke up around 1:30am with what I thought were "poop pains." So I went to the bathroom but nothing happened. And the pains stopped and didn't return so I got back in the bed. As I was laying down, I felt the unmistakable "woosh" of my water breaking! I woke Matt up and he immediately got in the computer and emailed his teachers letting them know he would not be in class the next day, while I ran around trying to find something absorbent to put in my pants to catch the "water." At the time we lived with my parents so I woke my parents up to tell them it was time. My dad (in all seriousness, I don't know if he was just sleepy or what) said "I have some Sham-Wows you could use." REALLY?!?! I'm sure that would be great on their info-mercial! I literally just shoved a BIG bath towel in my pants and off we went in my spankin' new minivan feeling very much parental-like already!
In my child birth classes they told us that I would not be able to eat until after the baby comes, in case I have to have a C-section so we knew I needed to eat before getting to the hospital. So where do you go at 2:00 in the morning? (no, not Waffle House) McDonalds! As I was picking my Chicken McNugget Happy Meal from the drive thru window, the lady, who could see my huge belly, said "How sweet, your husband is taking you for a late night craving." And I said "Actually, I'm in labor and we're on our way to the hospital." She started running back to get our food and I guess told the other McDonalds workers who all came to the window and wished us luck and waved and cheered when we drive off. That little old lady was bawling. It was so sweet!
We arrived at Kennestone and yes, I sat in the car and put on makeup. I didn't want to look like a frump when my baby saw me! Up until this point I had no pain, but by the time we made the walk from the parking lot to the labor and delivery unit, I was starting to have regular contractions. When we got there, all the triage rooms were full so they put me in the waiting room with the families of the other women having babies (with a HUGE full towel in my pants, mind you) where I was overhearing a horror story of a girl in labor and the baby was stuck in the birth canal! Thanks a lot, Kennestone. When they had a spot in triage, they had to stick me 4 times to get blood and not just that, but the idiot girl was "digging around" in my arm with the needle! I told her she had better go get someone who can get my blood or I was going to cause a major scene so she called in the midwife who got it on the first try.
4:00am- They moved me into a room and the contractions started to get very intense. By that time, my mom (dad was sick and couldn't come), Matt's parents, and my brother had arrived. If you don't know my brother, you should know that he is one of the funniest people you will ever meet, and he had just gotten the "iFart app" on his iphone. He had us all in side-splitting laughter in no time. Then I had to kick him out because the laughter was making the contractions worse. After that, time was a blur. Contraction after contraction, pain, pain, pain, pain like I had never felt in my life! Around 8:30am they gave me a narcotic which didn't take the pain away, but just make me "not care" about it. (I really hate to admit this, but I can totally understand how people get addicted to narcotics. It was so relaxing and if you had "nothing to live for" the narcotic would be a welcomed escape.) But it wore off in 30 mins or so and the pain was so bad I started shaking uncontrollably. At 10:30am I asked for and epidural which was not nearly as bad as I anticipated. The initial numbing needle was pretty painful but by the time I counted to 30, the whole procedure was over and I was almost completely pain-free. I got to sleep for 2 hours until the doctor checked me and I was 9cm dilated.
I was SO fortunate to have a midwife from Nigeria as my nurse, who had delivered over 1,000 babies in Africa before coming to the U.S. I can not, for the life of me, remember her name. It was a native name and very long. My doctor later told me that 99% of that woman's patients had successful vaginal deliveries, only 1% had to have C-sections. She began to work with me, doing little pushes, lots of massages, and I don't know what else to help ease the baby along. She worked with me for over 2 hours until the doctor came in and I was ready to "formally" push. I allowed 3 nursing students in the room to observe and let me tell you, 2 of the 3 looked like they were going to pass out and/or be sick! First push- easy. Second push- head came out. Third push- Ollie was born! They put her on my belly and the first thing I said was "Oh my gosh! It's a human!" It didn't hit me until that moment that it was a PERSON inside me. I felt her warm body and could feel her heart beating through her chest and it was absolutely mind-blowing that I had a human in my belly, with organs, limbs and a soul! The second thing I said was "She looks just like Noah!" And she did! She had Noah's signature "turtle look" but also looked just like Matt with the round head and face and blue eyes. They took her go get cleaned up while I took care of the placenta and what-not but soon started freaking out because the doctor could not get me to stop bleeding. All I could think about was women in the books I read who die after childbirth from loss of blood. After lots of painful massaging and who knows what else, it finally stopped and I got all stitched up. Luckily, due to the midwife's handiwork, I had very minimal tearing!
After the nurses got me and the baby all cleaned up, everyone left. There was the hustle and bustle of 10 people in the room, then no one but me, Matt, and Ollie. It wasn't until then that Matt and I both started crying. Ollie, on the other hand, just stared at us as quiet as can be. The family started to trickle in and see us, then came the reality that I needed to somehow feed the child, so I began my long battle with breast feeding (different story for a different day). That night in the hospital was crazy. Ollie's body temp. had dropped so she had to sleep with me and we both woke up many times both drenched in sweat! But she never cried or anything! She was so quiet and content. The next morning, Matt had to wake up at 5:00 to go to school! Bleh! My mom came to be with me and I got more visitors, which was incredible exhausting when all I wanted to do was sleep! But I was content, enjoying hospital food (yes, I actually liked it! Especially the jell-o desserts) and having lactation consultants to help teach me how to breast feed. We were doing pretty great until "the cloud" descended over me, in the form of post-partum depression when I started having terrible mood swings, uncontrollable crying for no reason, and rage at the pediatricians for not being able to see Ollie when we needed them to. Poor Matt, he was so kind and reassuring. I don't know what I would have done without his certainty and confidence that everything was going to be ok, we were going to be good parents, Ollie will always have everything she needs, and the post-partum craziness would pass (which did. It took a few weeks, but it did.)
Taking Ollie home was the best day ever! It was snowing and I saw the world completely differently. I sat in the back seat and pointed things out to Ollie I would have never noticed before: birds flying in the wind, a frozen over pond, the chicken on the sign when we passed Zaxby's. I knew then that parenthood was going to be so fun! When we got home, Ollie got to meet my dad (who wore a surgical mask because he was still not feeling well) and we got visits from more family. It was so nice seeing how cute the cousins are around babies, and hearing stories about other family babies. It was such a special time. I wouldn't trade it for anything!
This time around, I hope to do a few things differently: I will be using a midwife. I would even like to hire the midwife from Kennestone, if she is still there. I am NOT delivering at Kennestone. I was completely unimpressed with so may aspects of the whole process- we will be at Northside. I would like to have visitors come to the house when we come home, instead of everyone crowding into the hospital room when I'm trying to breast feed, get a catheter taken out, etc. It was just exhausting. I will not hesitate to ask for medication if I experience post-partum depression again. Those first weeks would have been much more joyful if I had asked for help. I will not take as much stuff to the hospital-- they have so much there for the baby, I don't need to bring diapers, wipes, diaper cream, baby wash, etc. And I will be making my own hospital gown. I despise those ugly things they give you, with you butt all hanging out!
