Stella's Birth Day

This is how it goes. My due came, and went. I saw my doctor and nothing much was going on. I tried not to let it get me down. The date came and went that I thought she'd be born. Six days past my due date. I reach the date of my fetal assessment, and still nothing. I went to my appointment, and was relived to see that little face, and know she was okay. Then another day of waiting until I finally reached my induction date.
I was nervous, and excited, and not really sure how this was all going to work. I expected it to go fast, once it started to work, and to be home well in time for my son's birthday in five days time. So my husband and I made the call, had our babysitters in place, and then we had to the hospital. Where we waited, and waited, and waited. They didn't want to send us home which I was thankful for, I don't think I could have handled that, at that point. And though I was not progressively favorable for induction, my uterus was contraction every four minutes to give me cramps. We went for walks, talked, I dozed, we ate, read, I croquet, and still we waited. We were waiting until midnight, passed midnight and finally we got to be in the Labour and Delivery ward. For some reason I didn't realize that me being induced put us at high risk, but that's where I found myself. And of course because I didn't have really any complications, that meant I got bumped, and again, and again, and again. I was uncomfortable, and sore, and tired, and just DONE.
Slowly they put the drip up, and hour after hour nothing much happened. I'd start getting slightly fierce contractions to have them go away, and I couldn't really sleep. I was worried about Thomas. The night wore on, and nothing. They checked me and put me up all the way to as high as the drip would go. Still nothing. My body wasn't willing to go into labour. Finally they checked me and I was opened enough to have my water broke. I was so happy. FINALLY something would start.
The weirdest feeling ever is having your water broke. With Thomas it broke by itself, and it was a totally different feeling then having it broke for you. Less messy for one thing! My body got it then. That I needed to start bringing this baby into the world. She'd been there for over nine months after all. Yes sure she was comfortable, but her Mama was not! They kept me on the drip, and my amazing team of nurses, and doctors kept an eye on us.
At one point, the head nurse Ferdand checked in on me, and told me I hadn't really progressed. The next contraction I lost it, I was crying, and not breathing properly and just over wraught. I shook my head, and told myself to stop it. He told me it was okay, and just to breath. When I'd managed to weather that little emotional storm, I looked over to see my husband also in tears. He knew how much I'd wanted a different answer. It was such a charged emotional moment for both of us. To have him there with me through it all, it was just so powerful. He was so amazing, and supportive, and kept me sane. He made me laugh with his corny jokes, and horrible humour. I'm sure the nurses thought he was crazy, and me too. But I needed that laughter, I needed him. And he knew that.
I lost emotionally control at least one other time, where I just couldn't stop crying, I don't really remember why, or when. (it's been over a week since it all happened) My nurse accidentally put my drip down really low, but by them my contractions were coming on their own, and with strength. And it was at that point that I decided yeah I'm sure women for many years had been going through labour without drugs, but I didn't have to. It hurt like hell so I said give me drugs. They gave me morphine which did nothing for the contractions, I just felt loopy in the head between them. They gave me another shot of a drug that starts with F I don't remember the name. Because I was waiting for my epidural. It seemed forever to come. I probably did the exact same thing I did with Thomas. Battled through more then half my labour without an epidural before finally getting it. When I did, they had trouble putting in at first, but once it was done they up the drip. Let's get this baby here! Pam who was my main nurse told me. There was also Donna (who was pregnant herself), Brittney who watched me through the day, Diane who was the head nurse one night, Seirra who was another nurse who looked in on me too. Robyn who stayed over her shift because they were so busy to look after me too. I saw so many faces those days, and they all took such great care of me. Meghan who was a resident there came and checked up on me. Andrew who was super young and popped in at the last minute to ask if he could be there for Stella's birth. I was like sure. And my doctor Brodinsky who was probably the best guy to help me through giving birth.
I know this isn't all in order but then it didn't feel like it was in order either. When they upped the drip my contractions came fast, and furious, and my body shook with contractions. That was another thing, I would shake so fierce my teeth shattering before I had an epidural. Through the contractions I was way able to handle them better then I'd ever done with Thomas. If I started crying out, Don would bring me back, or my nurse. Breath Rebecca, Breath they'd say. And I would. In through the nose, out through the mouth, concentrate, concentrate on my breathing. In and out. And they'd eventually let go, thought sometimes I'd say in a low voice for them to let go, because it seemed they just never would subside. Through it all, I knew that it wouldn't last forever. I just needed to get through it, and it'd be done.
It was not very long after I had an epidural I felt the need to push. I was fighting the urge, and the nurse came in and I said I need to push. They checked me, I'd gone from 4 to 7cm in an hour. Not yet they said. I struggled against my body's claim to push the baby out. I need to push I said again. It'd only be 15 mins later, they checked, I was 9 and fully enfaced. Not even ten minutes later I was set up, and I was ready to push. I pushed, and peed all over my poor nurse. You had to pee she told me straight faced. Sorry I said. Really at that point, I wasn't embarrassed. I'm sure she'd seen worse. She tried to put a catheter in then, but though she was a good nurse, she sucked when it came to things like that. She put me in such pain when she tried to insert an iv I thought I'd die. And it's the only huge bruise still on my arm more then a week later. The doctor thankfully pushed her out of the way, and took over.
People have a lot of misconceptions about epidurals. They usually think that it takes away all pain, and you don't feel anything. You do though. It just makes the pain manageable. Depends on your level of dealing with pain. The nurses were impressed that even when I was getting ready to push, I was able to smile and laugh. Still smiling they said. I love this girl! I thought to myself of course I am, I'm about to finally meet my little girl!
50 mins of pushing, of working with my contractions and baby was out. Though if any other women has even pushed out a baby over ten pounds, you probably know what I mean when I said a ring of fire. The pain of pushing her out was the worst I'd eve felt. then they asked me, did I want her right away skin to skin. YES! I replied, and she was flopped onto me, this gross covered newborn, voicing very loudly how annoyed she as to have been thus ejected into the world. I fell in love. I'd done it. I'd followed my body, given it the power it had, and felt amazing proud that this was what I got at the end. This fat little adorable girl called Stella. They cleaned her up some, and finally took her away to weight her. First the scales said 8lbs 15oz and everyone was like, no way is that right. So they reset it and tried again. 10lbs 5oz. I was very thankful that I'd envisaged the 8lbs while pushing her out!
I tore. I knew I would. It was only first degree though, and my doctor froze me, told my nurse to give me an extra shot of epidural, and gave me two stitches. They hurt WAY less then with Thomas. But then I was totally evolved with Stella on my chest this time too. This time I knew what I wanted, and it was easier for the whole process. She snuggled into my breast, and within half and hour of her birth she was nursing. Pam was impressed. For me it was just right.
Stella didn't have the problems with staying awake to feed like Thomas did. In fact the second night of her birth she nursed ALL night. Just massive cluster feeding, and she lost weight. My colostrum wasn't not enough for her. So when the nurse asked me what I felt about her having some formula I was like okay. The mom next door to me, was impressed. She said I was one strong mother, to be not broken by having to be told my breast wasn't enough. But I'd been down this road before. I knew in the end it would be. Stella would be fine, and so would I. It'd be okay. And it was, my milk came in the next morning, and she was gulping like it was a limited supply.
I was all set to go home. Home to see my baby boy. He'd come to visit us that first day, Very unsure of himself, unsure of me. I felt horrible. I cuddled him right up on the bed. He snuggled Stella, he proudly introduced her to his Aunt and Grandma. However the second morning, I was told Stella had jaundice. Before she was 24 hours old. I cried. I wanted to go home, I wanted her to be okay. I hated this. She was my little glow worm for a day. And Thomas and Daddy came to visit us. The next day was Thomas' birthday. I prayed that Stella would be well enough for us to go home. I was concerned for her jaundice but sure she'd be okay. Thankfully she'd put on enough weight, was old enough, that though her jaundice had gone up, we could go home.
I went home to a house full of people, and an amazing birthday party for my son. And Stella slept through it all.
And that was how I welcomed my baby girl into the world. Full of laughter, joy, pain, frustration, and love.