Every woman loves sharing her birth story, including me! This post is a tribute to Ricky on his 2nd birthday, the story of his arrival into the world. Sorry it's so long- it was eventful! And I love remembering every detail.
On December 19th, 2009 Pennsylvania had one of the largest blizzards in recent history and I was 36 weeks, 5 days pregnant. I was lying in bed early that morning (after pulling an all-nighter crocheting a baby sweater) when I felt a tiny little gush of fluid After the initial TINY "gush" I felt as if I was leaking a little bit. I was pretty sure it wasn't anything to worry about because it pretty much immediately went away and everything went back to normal, but I was just slightly worried that my amniotic sac had sprung a leak. I called the hospital. They, of course, wanted to see me immediately. Easier said than done when there's a foot of snow on the ground and the snow is still coming down fast. Our car was snowed in pretty good, and so was everyone else's that we asked for help. Eric ended up calling an ambulance, despite me begging him not to. I was so irritated and embarrassed. I was more and more sure every second that my water hadn't broken and that it was a false alarm, but it was too late, the ambulance was on it's way. When I got into the ambulance they had me lay on a stretcher and the very nice paramedic sheepishly informed me that he needed to feel to see if the baby is "crowning". I'm sure he had no choice, I'm sure it was "procedure", but I felt like the whole thing was ridiculous. Don't worry, I was polite to him, he did his thing and informed me that the baby was not crowning. (duh) I wasn't in labor and I felt guilty that I was being treated like I was in the middle of a medical emergency when I knew for a fact that I was not.
When I got to the hospital it took them all of 10 minutes to see me and determine that there was not a single trace of amniotic fluid anywhere in sight and also that I was not even slightly dilated, effaced, or even contracting. They performed an ultrasound to check on the little guy, who was still breech, and they monitored his heartbeat for a little while. An hour or 2 after arriving they "sent me home". Long story short, no one could come get me so I spent the entire day and evening trying to get comfortable in a waiting room chair. I was absolutely exhausted, it had been more than 24 hours since I'd gotten a wink of sleep. Eric and my best friend Amanda spent hours trying to figure out how to get me home. Amanda eventually ended up calling all the taxi companies in the area and persuading the only open company to come get me at the hospital, drive me to her house, and then she would pay them when I got there.
I got to Amanda's house safely that evening and she made us dinner and let me sleep in her bed. Eric wasn't tired and stayed awake all night hanging out with Amanda in the living room. I woke up every half hour wondering where my husband was. I woke up at 3AM, went downstairs, ate a peanut butter cup, and convinced Eric to come to bed. We fell asleep and I woke up an hour later in a puddle. Eric was asleep, spooning with me from behind, and he was also in the puddle. I stood up, felt a REAL gush, woke Eric up, and then waddled down the hall into the bathroom to sit on the toilet so I wouldn't leak on anything else. (By the way, I'm now aware that it's not sanitary to hang out on the toilet after your water breaks because the germs from the toilet can travel into the uterus.) Eric woke Amanda up, who was sleeping on the couch- she was really shocked. We all were. Amanda's mom also got up. Someone eventually brought me a towel and a change of pants, and I put the pants on but kept the towel between my legs inside the pants. I really couldn't go anywhere without it. I went downstairs, sat on the couch, made small talk with Amanda and cracked open a book while I waited for Eric to talk to the hospital and Amanda's mom to get the car ready to take me to drive me there. Apparently the roads had been plowed and taken care of over night. THANK GOD.
We got to the hospital around 6 AM or so, I forget what time exactly. When I was checking in, the same secretaries were there from the day before and they jokingly asked if I was SURE this time wasn't a false alarm. I was embarrassed... but I was sure! The doctor checked me out, and they knew right away that my water had broken. They got to work hooking me up to IVs, making me sign papers, etc. They scheduled my c-section for 11 AM thanks to that darn peanut butter cup I ate at 3 AM. They wanted to make sure my stomach was empty for 8 hours prior to the surgery to prevent complications. So my wait began. Eric and I watched Spongebob on the hospital TV while we waited. I started getting contractions around 8 AM. They were getting more and more intense as I waited for 11 AM and the OBGYN told me to let her know if I wanted to have the surgery sooner. I guess the 8 hour waiting time isn't absolutely necessary. But I was so terrified for the c-section that I would have rather put up with the contractions all day then have that surgery. I was actually so terrified that I had my first (and worst) panic attack ever at around 10:30. I was absolutely sure I would die during the c-section and I was trying to plot ways to get out of the hospital and go home without them stopping me. That panic attack was traumatizing and I still shudder when I remember that moment. I remember thinking to myself, in the midst of the attack, "I am NEVER going to do this again if I survive. I will NEVER get pregnant again." The only thing that kept me from actually trying to leave was knowing that Ricky was breech and I was in labor- and he had to come out one way or another.
When the clock hit 11 I was so scared. They didn't come get me right away and I was wishing they'd forget about me all day. But they did come get me and they made me WALK to the operating room. I was so irritated. I couldn't walk without fluid gushing everywhere, not to mention I was tired and scared. But somehow I sucked it up and walked out of the room, leaving Eric behind (he couldn't join me until I was prepped for surgery) and I walked into the operating room. The spinal block was awful. They didn't tell me I wasn't bent over far enough until the anesthesiologist poked me in the back about 6 times. It felt like being electrocuted. When the spinal block was over my vision and hearing started changing. I couldn't hear or see right and I thought I was going to pass out. I wasn't sure if that was normal and I had another panic attack. The doctors and nurses weren't very personal while they were preparing- they left me lying on the table terrified while they bustled around the room getting all their instruments ready. I thought they forgot about Eric and I begged them to go get him. Finally Eric came in the room and everything was better. They put an oxygen mask on me and they checked to make sure I was numb. Then they started the surgery. Ricky was born at 11:23 AM and he immediately peed and pooped on the doctor. He also didn't breathe right away and I heard the doctor whisper to him, "It would be helpful if you would breathe!" I tried really hard to remain calm after hearing that, but it wasn't long before we heard his little cry. It was so cute and Eric and I both cried. No one said anything about Ricky and for some reason I was suddenly worried he was ugly or deformed or something. They whisked him away to clean him off, evaluate his condition (he was premature, technically) and they let Eric go look at him while they did that. Eric came back to my side and I asked him, "Is he cute?" and he said, through tears, "He's SO cute." (I'm tearing up just thinking about that moment.) Someone eventually brought my little man over to me, all wrapped up in a blanket, and let me kiss his cheek. They took him away to the NICU to evaluate his breathing and gave Eric the choice to go with them or to wait for me in the recovery room. He chose to wait for me in the recovery room because he knew I needed him and he was also still worried about me since my surgery wasn't over. I rested while they stitched me up, and once they were done with that and I was in the recovery room with Eric I felt HAPPY! I was so relieved to be alive, relieved my son was doing fine, and the rest of my experience was fantastic. Unfortunately I didn't get to hold Ricky until about 2 AM because he did need some help with breathing for a little while, but I was so high on drugs for most of the day that it didn't start REALLY bothering me until about midnight.
Happy Birthday Little Ricky. The day I met you was one of the best days of my life.
On December 19th, 2009 Pennsylvania had one of the largest blizzards in recent history and I was 36 weeks, 5 days pregnant. I was lying in bed early that morning (after pulling an all-nighter crocheting a baby sweater) when I felt a tiny little gush of fluid After the initial TINY "gush" I felt as if I was leaking a little bit. I was pretty sure it wasn't anything to worry about because it pretty much immediately went away and everything went back to normal, but I was just slightly worried that my amniotic sac had sprung a leak. I called the hospital. They, of course, wanted to see me immediately. Easier said than done when there's a foot of snow on the ground and the snow is still coming down fast. Our car was snowed in pretty good, and so was everyone else's that we asked for help. Eric ended up calling an ambulance, despite me begging him not to. I was so irritated and embarrassed. I was more and more sure every second that my water hadn't broken and that it was a false alarm, but it was too late, the ambulance was on it's way. When I got into the ambulance they had me lay on a stretcher and the very nice paramedic sheepishly informed me that he needed to feel to see if the baby is "crowning". I'm sure he had no choice, I'm sure it was "procedure", but I felt like the whole thing was ridiculous. Don't worry, I was polite to him, he did his thing and informed me that the baby was not crowning. (duh) I wasn't in labor and I felt guilty that I was being treated like I was in the middle of a medical emergency when I knew for a fact that I was not.
When I got to the hospital it took them all of 10 minutes to see me and determine that there was not a single trace of amniotic fluid anywhere in sight and also that I was not even slightly dilated, effaced, or even contracting. They performed an ultrasound to check on the little guy, who was still breech, and they monitored his heartbeat for a little while. An hour or 2 after arriving they "sent me home". Long story short, no one could come get me so I spent the entire day and evening trying to get comfortable in a waiting room chair. I was absolutely exhausted, it had been more than 24 hours since I'd gotten a wink of sleep. Eric and my best friend Amanda spent hours trying to figure out how to get me home. Amanda eventually ended up calling all the taxi companies in the area and persuading the only open company to come get me at the hospital, drive me to her house, and then she would pay them when I got there.
I got to Amanda's house safely that evening and she made us dinner and let me sleep in her bed. Eric wasn't tired and stayed awake all night hanging out with Amanda in the living room. I woke up every half hour wondering where my husband was. I woke up at 3AM, went downstairs, ate a peanut butter cup, and convinced Eric to come to bed. We fell asleep and I woke up an hour later in a puddle. Eric was asleep, spooning with me from behind, and he was also in the puddle. I stood up, felt a REAL gush, woke Eric up, and then waddled down the hall into the bathroom to sit on the toilet so I wouldn't leak on anything else. (By the way, I'm now aware that it's not sanitary to hang out on the toilet after your water breaks because the germs from the toilet can travel into the uterus.) Eric woke Amanda up, who was sleeping on the couch- she was really shocked. We all were. Amanda's mom also got up. Someone eventually brought me a towel and a change of pants, and I put the pants on but kept the towel between my legs inside the pants. I really couldn't go anywhere without it. I went downstairs, sat on the couch, made small talk with Amanda and cracked open a book while I waited for Eric to talk to the hospital and Amanda's mom to get the car ready to take me to drive me there. Apparently the roads had been plowed and taken care of over night. THANK GOD.
We got to the hospital around 6 AM or so, I forget what time exactly. When I was checking in, the same secretaries were there from the day before and they jokingly asked if I was SURE this time wasn't a false alarm. I was embarrassed... but I was sure! The doctor checked me out, and they knew right away that my water had broken. They got to work hooking me up to IVs, making me sign papers, etc. They scheduled my c-section for 11 AM thanks to that darn peanut butter cup I ate at 3 AM. They wanted to make sure my stomach was empty for 8 hours prior to the surgery to prevent complications. So my wait began. Eric and I watched Spongebob on the hospital TV while we waited. I started getting contractions around 8 AM. They were getting more and more intense as I waited for 11 AM and the OBGYN told me to let her know if I wanted to have the surgery sooner. I guess the 8 hour waiting time isn't absolutely necessary. But I was so terrified for the c-section that I would have rather put up with the contractions all day then have that surgery. I was actually so terrified that I had my first (and worst) panic attack ever at around 10:30. I was absolutely sure I would die during the c-section and I was trying to plot ways to get out of the hospital and go home without them stopping me. That panic attack was traumatizing and I still shudder when I remember that moment. I remember thinking to myself, in the midst of the attack, "I am NEVER going to do this again if I survive. I will NEVER get pregnant again." The only thing that kept me from actually trying to leave was knowing that Ricky was breech and I was in labor- and he had to come out one way or another.
When the clock hit 11 I was so scared. They didn't come get me right away and I was wishing they'd forget about me all day. But they did come get me and they made me WALK to the operating room. I was so irritated. I couldn't walk without fluid gushing everywhere, not to mention I was tired and scared. But somehow I sucked it up and walked out of the room, leaving Eric behind (he couldn't join me until I was prepped for surgery) and I walked into the operating room. The spinal block was awful. They didn't tell me I wasn't bent over far enough until the anesthesiologist poked me in the back about 6 times. It felt like being electrocuted. When the spinal block was over my vision and hearing started changing. I couldn't hear or see right and I thought I was going to pass out. I wasn't sure if that was normal and I had another panic attack. The doctors and nurses weren't very personal while they were preparing- they left me lying on the table terrified while they bustled around the room getting all their instruments ready. I thought they forgot about Eric and I begged them to go get him. Finally Eric came in the room and everything was better. They put an oxygen mask on me and they checked to make sure I was numb. Then they started the surgery. Ricky was born at 11:23 AM and he immediately peed and pooped on the doctor. He also didn't breathe right away and I heard the doctor whisper to him, "It would be helpful if you would breathe!" I tried really hard to remain calm after hearing that, but it wasn't long before we heard his little cry. It was so cute and Eric and I both cried. No one said anything about Ricky and for some reason I was suddenly worried he was ugly or deformed or something. They whisked him away to clean him off, evaluate his condition (he was premature, technically) and they let Eric go look at him while they did that. Eric came back to my side and I asked him, "Is he cute?" and he said, through tears, "He's SO cute." (I'm tearing up just thinking about that moment.) Someone eventually brought my little man over to me, all wrapped up in a blanket, and let me kiss his cheek. They took him away to the NICU to evaluate his breathing and gave Eric the choice to go with them or to wait for me in the recovery room. He chose to wait for me in the recovery room because he knew I needed him and he was also still worried about me since my surgery wasn't over. I rested while they stitched me up, and once they were done with that and I was in the recovery room with Eric I felt HAPPY! I was so relieved to be alive, relieved my son was doing fine, and the rest of my experience was fantastic. Unfortunately I didn't get to hold Ricky until about 2 AM because he did need some help with breathing for a little while, but I was so high on drugs for most of the day that it didn't start REALLY bothering me until about midnight.
Happy Birthday Little Ricky. The day I met you was one of the best days of my life.
Happy Belated 2nd birthday, Little Man.
ReplyDeleteSwinging by to say Merry Christmas to you and yours.
That was quite the experience! Glad it all turned out okay in the end. Did you have to have the c-section because he was breech?
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