Birth Story...aka the failed homebirth.
First, thank you for all the congratulations and well wishes. I wish I could reply to them all but I decided most of you were probably more interested in what's below.
I've cut this into sections. A lot of it is angsty; I did not get the birth I wanted, or anything close, and that hurts.
The story:
It's funny; on my due date, 1/29, I told Barb I was going to take a belly pic for 40 weeks. She told me not to wait to long...I laughed and told her I was in no imminent danger of Lily coming any time soon as I had just had a midwife appointment & NST that morning, with no change. I resigned myself to going post due, which really, was okay.
I meant to take that picture that night. At 11pm, I had my first contraction - and right away, they were 45-90 seconds long & 3-5 minutes apart. No slow and easy start up despite being in early labor since 1/18. Around midnight I told Keith he had to make a choice - go to bed or make coffee, because I had a feeling soon he would have the choice made for him. He went to sleep thank goodness, and I did my best to deal with contractions I already couldn't sleep through (darn it...I knew labor was going to be at night! I had really wanted some sleep going into it!).
Around 4am I woke Keith up that I could no longer deal with them on my own, and was getting into the tub - he needed to wake up. I ran a hot bath - and 20 minutes later got up to tell Keith again to wake up. Oops. He got up that time though! We timed contractions for about an hour or something, and then Keith decided it was time to call our midwife. This was a little after 5ish. Sometime thereafter Keith called his mom too so she could come over.
Details are a little blurry here, but the midwife arrived and checked me - around 4cm. Good. She went to go get breakfast, and Keith's mom arrived. I feel bad in retrospect - I don't think I said hello to her for hours. I had to get out of the tub - the midwife said I would slow things down there, so out I got. In bed with Keith, I rocked my way through a lot of contractions - they were getting seriously intense and I somewhere along the way lost the ability to talk through them. In here somewhere, Keith's mom made him breakfast but I still pretty much felt unable to eat - although Keith really tried. I ate slivers of hard boil egg and banana, and drank when they made me.
When the midwife came back, I was up to 5cm - this was late-ish morning, and she called the other midwife to come over. I think I'd been in labor around 12ish hours at this point, with hard fast contractions the whole time. I was completely completely exhausted, and fell asleep in the bed, waking up during a contraction but being so exhausted I couldn't even moan through them. The other midwife arrived I think a couple hours after this - and I was still at 5cm. We tried walking and walking to speed things up - supposedly this is a good trick, but it slowed my contractions down. Maybe I was just too tired. At least I was at 5 and could get back to the tub, although that didn't seem to do a whole lot for me - it did let the midwives monitor my contractions more.
The day dragged on, with me losing all concept of tired but knowing I was just super super tired. At some point the midwives went out to eat, and I continued laboring. At the next check I was 7cm - I think this was later in the evening, much later. It was a very slow labor. I was happy to be at 7 - I was almost to transition and almost to my baby. Or so I thought. I got interested in time again, and decided baby's birthday was definitely going to be 1/30/09. I decided she would be here by 9pm. Keith kept trying to make me eat in the interim, and I was still very uninterested and complaining of being very nauseous. I remember being reassured that it was okay to throw up, that it was normal and I might feel better - but I'd thrown up the whole fricken pregnancy, and wasn't interested! LOL.
9pm came and went. I don't remember a lot of the next few hours, but I remember I kept telling Keith if I could just sleep I could do this. That I wish I had slept the night before and crying because I hadn't. He stayed amazingly positive considering I know he was super tired too - he just reassured me that it was okay that hadn't happened, and that we would and could deal with what had, and that he knew I could do this.
The midwives worried my contractions had slowed down again, and had us try nipple stimulation. Believe me, this is a lot less fun than it sounds. 1) Ouch and 2) It worked...I ended up with contractions literally back to back. No break in between, and I lost my mind. I think I swatted Keith a few times when he tried to keep them going. I adamantly refused to try again - I could not deal with contractions with no break. At all. I think Keith got worried, because he went to talk to the midwives - who told us that was what was supposed to happen. I still refused - I was not going to do that again. Ow.
Things got blurry again, but I remember deciding - okay, Lily, you will be here by 11pm. Let's get going!
11pm came and went, and the next check I was 7 - maybe 8. More nipple stimulation it was. Frick. At least we went easier this time, and no more back to back contractions. We stopped when my contractions seemed to stabilize.
Midnight came and went, and the second midwife told me if we could get my contractions going, she thought we'd be pushing soon. She told the first midwife to go back to sleep, that I was doing fine.
Around 2ish, they came in and asked if they could break my waters. I hadn't wanted -any- interventions, but they were very worried at how tired I was. They said it would intensify the contractions a little bit, but the tradeoff would be the labor ending sooner. I didn't like it, but I consented because I knew I was getting close to the end of what I could do.
Somewhere around 3am-ish, I had another check, because I felt lie my contractions were different wanted to be checked, by the second midwife. She didn't tell me what I was, but told me to try pushing, and I got the idea I only had a little bit left to dilate. We pushed 4 times before she told me to stop, and keep working on the contractions. She left the room, and a few minutes later the first midwife came in and asked to check me. I was excited and told her that the other midwife had said I only had a little bit left. She sounded worried, and told me that wasn't what she was told. I started getting a little nervous. The second midwife came back in and asked if the first midwife "saw what she did." The first midwife had me push - once - then immediately told me to stop. They talked between themselves, deciding if they wanted me to rest or not. In the room, they told me to rest - and then they left together. I still thought I was close to pushing, and Keith and I dealt with the contractions as best we could. Keith was so exhausted he was falling asleep between them. I could hear the midwives talking out in the living room but couldn't hear what they said.
The second midwife came in, and asked Keith if he were dressed enough to drive. That woke him up, fast. He said yes, and I panicked. I demanded to know what was going on. The second midwife said my midwife was going to talk to me, but I was in a panic. She did tell me that I was well more than a few contractions away from delivering, even if they could get them to pick up, and I was wearing out. At this point I'd been in labor around 28 hours. My midwife came in, and told me we needed to transfer to the hospital. I needed an epidural to sleep and pitocin to make the contractions pick up - I was too worn out, my contractions were too sporadic, and I hadn't made any progress in several hours because my body was just too tired to work effectively after that long a labor. At that point we thought it was just a time issue, although in retrospect I remember one of my BP checks had my BP up to 140/90 - at the time we thought it was because I had just ended a contraction.
I lost it, completely. I sobbed. I got hysterical. I stopped trying to work with my contractions and just screamed through them - they told me to relax, but I couldn't see the point if I had to go to the hospital anyway. Keith tried to reassure me and pack at the same time.
We packed the car and said goodbye to the second midwife, who reassured me the contraction would slow down in the car. My mother in law and my midwife left for the hospital, and we followed. I've never seen Keith drive so fast - we were going I think 30 over the limit at one point. I think I scared him - my contractions didn't slow down...they sped up back to where they had been when I first went into labor, and again, I was screaming through them. I didn't want to relax. In my head it didn't matter. I had lost what I worked the whole pregnancy to achieve - I was going to end up in the hospital. I was going to have pain meds, because my body needed sleep so badly I probably didn't have the strength to deliver otherwise. And I was going to have pitocin. And there was the possibility it would put my daughter into distress - and I might have to argue my way out of an episiotomy. I needed an IV. I was going to have to go through labor and pushing on my back. In short, I was a mess.
We got to the hospital a little before 5. I was still screaming and crying. I was in shock and couldn't believe where I was. They monitored my contractions for a bit, and then my doctor called (my midwife's back up dr). I hadn't noticed, but apparently my BP was really high - nearly 160/90. He and I spoke after a contraction ended. He said we *could* try the pitocin/epidural combo - but he was worried, and wanted to do a csection. He said my BP was really really high, to the point where it had to be treated because it was dangerous. He didn't mention it during the phone call, but apparently I was spilling a ton of protein as well. (This whole thing was weird - it explained why I was so sick at the end of labor, but I had just been checked at my midwife appointment on 1/29 and was fine..bp fine, no swelling, no protein....) I told him I had to talk to my husband, and got off the phone. I think I went even further into shock. My midwife asked what he said, and I whispered he wanted to do a c. She was shocked and asked why. I guess I wasn't very coherent because she ended up talking to him too. After they talked, she said my choices were - internal monitoring to make sure baby didn't go into distress, or csection. I was at risk for seizures and possible death of myself & Lily with where my levels were. There was no way in hell I was letting anyone screw a monitor into Lily's head, and we decided to do the c-section.
After that things got really hectic. Most of the hospital people scrambled out of the room to get things ready, and I remember sitting up and whispering about what the hell just happened. I think I kept repeating that for a minute, until a contraction hit and I screamed instead. My midwife tried to calm me down, help me relax through it, but I was beyond caring. Completely. It didn't matter. I had lost my homebirth, the peaceful birth for my daughter, and now my ability to deliver her myself. At this point I remember my contractions went insane...they came hard and fast. By the time the doctor got in (and screamed at the staff since I wasn't ready, and anasthesia hadn't seen me yet - this is a calm guy and if I had been more coherent I would have been stunned at his display - apparently he was pretty scared for me), I was in the middle of a contraction that literally lasted 4 minutes according the monitor. I was hysterical - my midwife yelled for someone to check me because I had been in the same contraction for 4 minutes. The doctor yelled - loudly - for the nurses to put something in my IV. The nurses were skittering around and they asked if he wanted 1 or 2 mg of Stadol - I remember he said 2, and then things got super fuzzy. The medicine apparently knocked out my contractions completely, and I saw streaks every color every time someone moved - usually purple streaks. Very strange.
I remember in the background Keith asking questions, trying to get out of the c, and then asking what would happen during the c. They took me off to prep after shaving me (I think?), and took Keith out to get dressed for the surgery. Getting the spinal anasthesia was weird - it didn't hurt because of the stadol, but it felt funny. I know I was leaning on a nurse's shoulder because I was so so out of it.
In surgery, they nearly started without him. The dr didn't know he was coming and the nurses forgot Keith. I screamed for my husband, and the doctor got mad again - something about the nurses trying to screw something up or something, and to "Go get her husband NOW!" Keith came in, and the surgery started...I think. They told me I'd feel pressure, but I didn't feel anything. I was happy to see Keith and terrified of what was happening. I didn't think I could move my legs, but was scared to try in case I could & I messed them up into hurting Lily.
I remember hearing a gurgling cry. I think I knew that was my daughter, because I remember asking if she was a girl. I think I asked twice, but I'm not sure if I actually asked verbally the first time. They confirmed I did indeed have a daughter. I remember looking at Keith and asking if that meant I was still pregnant or not. I don't remember what Keith said, but I know soon after a nurse brought Lily to me to see (after being cleaned up and swaddled). I got a couple moments of cheek-to-cheek time, where I think I kept saying "Hi Baby...hi Baby..." and then Keith followed Lily out of the room. I remember how love-struck he looked, and I remember thinking I wanted my daughter.
As they sewed me up, I remember getting horribly nauseous. My mouth was so dry I could barely talk, but I whispered I had to throw up. No one said anything. I said it again and a nurse told me it was normal because of some drug. I gave up trying to make them understand and threw up a couple times...again, they told me it was normal, and ignored me. I felt awful - I wanted to clean my face off, but I couldn't move, and they didn't care.
I don't remember anything after that until I started waking up in the L&D room. A pediatric nurse asked me if I wanted Lily to have a bottle or not, and I said no. She said okay, and a L&D nurse started to take care of me. She asked if I had bruised my cheek, and realized I had actually thrown up - she cleaned me up, and then things were blurry again for a while until Keith and his mom came back in the room with Lily. I remember hearing pictures taken, and thinking how badly I wanted my daughter. Keith and his mom sounded so happy in the background, and I could barely speak.
The ped nurse came back and asked if I wanted to feed her - I told her I was afraid I was so drugged I would drop her. I was aware enough that when I heard Lily cry again, I think I held out my arms to Keith because I wanted her, and I got to hold her for the first time. That was an amazing moment that I wish I remembered better. I barely remember anything of probably her first 12 hours. But I do remember nursing her for the first time, and being completely amazed.
Now, some pictures!
Doesn't he look amazingly happy? This is I think one of the pictures I heard being taken - she was about an hour and a half to two hours old.
3 days old, at home, wearing the lovely blanket Heidi made her.
Look at that mouth! "Do I get to nurse yet??"
A very fresh Lily, probably only minutes old in the nursery...Keith was afraid to pick her up, and says he was so amazed he could just touch her.
A happy mommy kisses her daughter shortly before discharge.
In the end, I'm very conflicted about her birth. I feel robbed. I feel like I lost everything I had hoped for the in birth except a healthy baby. She got her cord cut right away, instead of getting everything from it she needed. She had goop smeared on her eyes even though she didn't even come out in the route that would expose her to what they worry about (the eye goop is to prevent STD transmission to baby's eyes, which we weren't at risk for anyway). She got a vitamin K shot she didn't need. These happened because the csection had to be done so quickly, and I didn't keep my mind together well enough to let them know what we wanted. I missed her first bath. I missed having her on my tummy after she was born. I wasn't the first to hold her, not even close. I got 10 seconds of cheek time, and don't remember the first part of life. I spent over 28 hours in active labor with no pain medicine, and still ended up with a c-section. It just feels unfair, and I cry when I walk around the house and see the places where I had pictured her being born. In the nursery while I was recovering, Keith overheard the nurses saying that Lily was the "failed homebirth baby" and I think of that often.
Failed homebirth baby. I think of that probably more than often. To add salt to the wound, the doctor was talking about what he saw during the surgery, and he told me about some s-word that meant he didn't think I could dilate beyond where I did. (I wish I could remember the word!) He said I could try for a vbac with a second baby if there was one, but he - despite being very homebirth supportive - did not think I was a homebirth candidate anymore. I forgot to ask how I developed pre-e during the end, but I guess it doesn't matter.
And don't get me wrong - yes, Lily is healthy, and yes, that makes it worth it. I can't count the number of people who have asked me, knowing how traumatic the surgery was for me, "But you have Lily, and she's healthy, and that's all that matters, right?" Of course it matters that she's healthy. If I didn't care about that, I would have said yes to the internal monitors and gone for what was left of the birth I wanted. She was always what counted, and was always more important. Always. And no, this isn't PPD. I'm grieving for something I spent months planning. That's normal, and healthy. I lost something pretty important to me, and am trying to figure out how to deal with that. It isn't affecting my ability to care for myself or her (although the frankenstein scar across my belly is a different story - I never thought I'd have to figure out how to care for a newborn while dealing with a giant hole in my belly).
And there are pluses. It doesn't hurt to go to the bathroom, for one! Haha.
Anyway, so in sum:
Lily Ann Barnstein
1/31/09
7 lbs 7 oz (funny story about this - I knew how much she'd weigh! When mocking up her birth announcement and filling in stats, I put 7 lbs 7 oz! And when a random person asked me how big the baby was going to based on ultrasound [seriously...who asks this of a random person you barely know?!] I BS'ed and said around 7 1/2 lbs...I actually had no idea so I made something up, hah!)
20 inches
I've cut this into sections. A lot of it is angsty; I did not get the birth I wanted, or anything close, and that hurts.
The story:
It's funny; on my due date, 1/29, I told Barb I was going to take a belly pic for 40 weeks. She told me not to wait to long...I laughed and told her I was in no imminent danger of Lily coming any time soon as I had just had a midwife appointment & NST that morning, with no change. I resigned myself to going post due, which really, was okay.
I meant to take that picture that night. At 11pm, I had my first contraction - and right away, they were 45-90 seconds long & 3-5 minutes apart. No slow and easy start up despite being in early labor since 1/18. Around midnight I told Keith he had to make a choice - go to bed or make coffee, because I had a feeling soon he would have the choice made for him. He went to sleep thank goodness, and I did my best to deal with contractions I already couldn't sleep through (darn it...I knew labor was going to be at night! I had really wanted some sleep going into it!).
Around 4am I woke Keith up that I could no longer deal with them on my own, and was getting into the tub - he needed to wake up. I ran a hot bath - and 20 minutes later got up to tell Keith again to wake up. Oops. He got up that time though! We timed contractions for about an hour or something, and then Keith decided it was time to call our midwife. This was a little after 5ish. Sometime thereafter Keith called his mom too so she could come over.
Details are a little blurry here, but the midwife arrived and checked me - around 4cm. Good. She went to go get breakfast, and Keith's mom arrived. I feel bad in retrospect - I don't think I said hello to her for hours. I had to get out of the tub - the midwife said I would slow things down there, so out I got. In bed with Keith, I rocked my way through a lot of contractions - they were getting seriously intense and I somewhere along the way lost the ability to talk through them. In here somewhere, Keith's mom made him breakfast but I still pretty much felt unable to eat - although Keith really tried. I ate slivers of hard boil egg and banana, and drank when they made me.
When the midwife came back, I was up to 5cm - this was late-ish morning, and she called the other midwife to come over. I think I'd been in labor around 12ish hours at this point, with hard fast contractions the whole time. I was completely completely exhausted, and fell asleep in the bed, waking up during a contraction but being so exhausted I couldn't even moan through them. The other midwife arrived I think a couple hours after this - and I was still at 5cm. We tried walking and walking to speed things up - supposedly this is a good trick, but it slowed my contractions down. Maybe I was just too tired. At least I was at 5 and could get back to the tub, although that didn't seem to do a whole lot for me - it did let the midwives monitor my contractions more.
The day dragged on, with me losing all concept of tired but knowing I was just super super tired. At some point the midwives went out to eat, and I continued laboring. At the next check I was 7cm - I think this was later in the evening, much later. It was a very slow labor. I was happy to be at 7 - I was almost to transition and almost to my baby. Or so I thought. I got interested in time again, and decided baby's birthday was definitely going to be 1/30/09. I decided she would be here by 9pm. Keith kept trying to make me eat in the interim, and I was still very uninterested and complaining of being very nauseous. I remember being reassured that it was okay to throw up, that it was normal and I might feel better - but I'd thrown up the whole fricken pregnancy, and wasn't interested! LOL.
9pm came and went. I don't remember a lot of the next few hours, but I remember I kept telling Keith if I could just sleep I could do this. That I wish I had slept the night before and crying because I hadn't. He stayed amazingly positive considering I know he was super tired too - he just reassured me that it was okay that hadn't happened, and that we would and could deal with what had, and that he knew I could do this.
The midwives worried my contractions had slowed down again, and had us try nipple stimulation. Believe me, this is a lot less fun than it sounds. 1) Ouch and 2) It worked...I ended up with contractions literally back to back. No break in between, and I lost my mind. I think I swatted Keith a few times when he tried to keep them going. I adamantly refused to try again - I could not deal with contractions with no break. At all. I think Keith got worried, because he went to talk to the midwives - who told us that was what was supposed to happen. I still refused - I was not going to do that again. Ow.
Things got blurry again, but I remember deciding - okay, Lily, you will be here by 11pm. Let's get going!
11pm came and went, and the next check I was 7 - maybe 8. More nipple stimulation it was. Frick. At least we went easier this time, and no more back to back contractions. We stopped when my contractions seemed to stabilize.
Midnight came and went, and the second midwife told me if we could get my contractions going, she thought we'd be pushing soon. She told the first midwife to go back to sleep, that I was doing fine.
Around 2ish, they came in and asked if they could break my waters. I hadn't wanted -any- interventions, but they were very worried at how tired I was. They said it would intensify the contractions a little bit, but the tradeoff would be the labor ending sooner. I didn't like it, but I consented because I knew I was getting close to the end of what I could do.
Somewhere around 3am-ish, I had another check, because I felt lie my contractions were different wanted to be checked, by the second midwife. She didn't tell me what I was, but told me to try pushing, and I got the idea I only had a little bit left to dilate. We pushed 4 times before she told me to stop, and keep working on the contractions. She left the room, and a few minutes later the first midwife came in and asked to check me. I was excited and told her that the other midwife had said I only had a little bit left. She sounded worried, and told me that wasn't what she was told. I started getting a little nervous. The second midwife came back in and asked if the first midwife "saw what she did." The first midwife had me push - once - then immediately told me to stop. They talked between themselves, deciding if they wanted me to rest or not. In the room, they told me to rest - and then they left together. I still thought I was close to pushing, and Keith and I dealt with the contractions as best we could. Keith was so exhausted he was falling asleep between them. I could hear the midwives talking out in the living room but couldn't hear what they said.
The second midwife came in, and asked Keith if he were dressed enough to drive. That woke him up, fast. He said yes, and I panicked. I demanded to know what was going on. The second midwife said my midwife was going to talk to me, but I was in a panic. She did tell me that I was well more than a few contractions away from delivering, even if they could get them to pick up, and I was wearing out. At this point I'd been in labor around 28 hours. My midwife came in, and told me we needed to transfer to the hospital. I needed an epidural to sleep and pitocin to make the contractions pick up - I was too worn out, my contractions were too sporadic, and I hadn't made any progress in several hours because my body was just too tired to work effectively after that long a labor. At that point we thought it was just a time issue, although in retrospect I remember one of my BP checks had my BP up to 140/90 - at the time we thought it was because I had just ended a contraction.
I lost it, completely. I sobbed. I got hysterical. I stopped trying to work with my contractions and just screamed through them - they told me to relax, but I couldn't see the point if I had to go to the hospital anyway. Keith tried to reassure me and pack at the same time.
We packed the car and said goodbye to the second midwife, who reassured me the contraction would slow down in the car. My mother in law and my midwife left for the hospital, and we followed. I've never seen Keith drive so fast - we were going I think 30 over the limit at one point. I think I scared him - my contractions didn't slow down...they sped up back to where they had been when I first went into labor, and again, I was screaming through them. I didn't want to relax. In my head it didn't matter. I had lost what I worked the whole pregnancy to achieve - I was going to end up in the hospital. I was going to have pain meds, because my body needed sleep so badly I probably didn't have the strength to deliver otherwise. And I was going to have pitocin. And there was the possibility it would put my daughter into distress - and I might have to argue my way out of an episiotomy. I needed an IV. I was going to have to go through labor and pushing on my back. In short, I was a mess.
We got to the hospital a little before 5. I was still screaming and crying. I was in shock and couldn't believe where I was. They monitored my contractions for a bit, and then my doctor called (my midwife's back up dr). I hadn't noticed, but apparently my BP was really high - nearly 160/90. He and I spoke after a contraction ended. He said we *could* try the pitocin/epidural combo - but he was worried, and wanted to do a csection. He said my BP was really really high, to the point where it had to be treated because it was dangerous. He didn't mention it during the phone call, but apparently I was spilling a ton of protein as well. (This whole thing was weird - it explained why I was so sick at the end of labor, but I had just been checked at my midwife appointment on 1/29 and was fine..bp fine, no swelling, no protein....) I told him I had to talk to my husband, and got off the phone. I think I went even further into shock. My midwife asked what he said, and I whispered he wanted to do a c. She was shocked and asked why. I guess I wasn't very coherent because she ended up talking to him too. After they talked, she said my choices were - internal monitoring to make sure baby didn't go into distress, or csection. I was at risk for seizures and possible death of myself & Lily with where my levels were. There was no way in hell I was letting anyone screw a monitor into Lily's head, and we decided to do the c-section.
After that things got really hectic. Most of the hospital people scrambled out of the room to get things ready, and I remember sitting up and whispering about what the hell just happened. I think I kept repeating that for a minute, until a contraction hit and I screamed instead. My midwife tried to calm me down, help me relax through it, but I was beyond caring. Completely. It didn't matter. I had lost my homebirth, the peaceful birth for my daughter, and now my ability to deliver her myself. At this point I remember my contractions went insane...they came hard and fast. By the time the doctor got in (and screamed at the staff since I wasn't ready, and anasthesia hadn't seen me yet - this is a calm guy and if I had been more coherent I would have been stunned at his display - apparently he was pretty scared for me), I was in the middle of a contraction that literally lasted 4 minutes according the monitor. I was hysterical - my midwife yelled for someone to check me because I had been in the same contraction for 4 minutes. The doctor yelled - loudly - for the nurses to put something in my IV. The nurses were skittering around and they asked if he wanted 1 or 2 mg of Stadol - I remember he said 2, and then things got super fuzzy. The medicine apparently knocked out my contractions completely, and I saw streaks every color every time someone moved - usually purple streaks. Very strange.
I remember in the background Keith asking questions, trying to get out of the c, and then asking what would happen during the c. They took me off to prep after shaving me (I think?), and took Keith out to get dressed for the surgery. Getting the spinal anasthesia was weird - it didn't hurt because of the stadol, but it felt funny. I know I was leaning on a nurse's shoulder because I was so so out of it.
In surgery, they nearly started without him. The dr didn't know he was coming and the nurses forgot Keith. I screamed for my husband, and the doctor got mad again - something about the nurses trying to screw something up or something, and to "Go get her husband NOW!" Keith came in, and the surgery started...I think. They told me I'd feel pressure, but I didn't feel anything. I was happy to see Keith and terrified of what was happening. I didn't think I could move my legs, but was scared to try in case I could & I messed them up into hurting Lily.
I remember hearing a gurgling cry. I think I knew that was my daughter, because I remember asking if she was a girl. I think I asked twice, but I'm not sure if I actually asked verbally the first time. They confirmed I did indeed have a daughter. I remember looking at Keith and asking if that meant I was still pregnant or not. I don't remember what Keith said, but I know soon after a nurse brought Lily to me to see (after being cleaned up and swaddled). I got a couple moments of cheek-to-cheek time, where I think I kept saying "Hi Baby...hi Baby..." and then Keith followed Lily out of the room. I remember how love-struck he looked, and I remember thinking I wanted my daughter.
As they sewed me up, I remember getting horribly nauseous. My mouth was so dry I could barely talk, but I whispered I had to throw up. No one said anything. I said it again and a nurse told me it was normal because of some drug. I gave up trying to make them understand and threw up a couple times...again, they told me it was normal, and ignored me. I felt awful - I wanted to clean my face off, but I couldn't move, and they didn't care.
I don't remember anything after that until I started waking up in the L&D room. A pediatric nurse asked me if I wanted Lily to have a bottle or not, and I said no. She said okay, and a L&D nurse started to take care of me. She asked if I had bruised my cheek, and realized I had actually thrown up - she cleaned me up, and then things were blurry again for a while until Keith and his mom came back in the room with Lily. I remember hearing pictures taken, and thinking how badly I wanted my daughter. Keith and his mom sounded so happy in the background, and I could barely speak.
The ped nurse came back and asked if I wanted to feed her - I told her I was afraid I was so drugged I would drop her. I was aware enough that when I heard Lily cry again, I think I held out my arms to Keith because I wanted her, and I got to hold her for the first time. That was an amazing moment that I wish I remembered better. I barely remember anything of probably her first 12 hours. But I do remember nursing her for the first time, and being completely amazed.
Now, some pictures!
Doesn't he look amazingly happy? This is I think one of the pictures I heard being taken - she was about an hour and a half to two hours old.
3 days old, at home, wearing the lovely blanket Heidi made her.
Look at that mouth! "Do I get to nurse yet??"
A very fresh Lily, probably only minutes old in the nursery...Keith was afraid to pick her up, and says he was so amazed he could just touch her.
A happy mommy kisses her daughter shortly before discharge.
In the end, I'm very conflicted about her birth. I feel robbed. I feel like I lost everything I had hoped for the in birth except a healthy baby. She got her cord cut right away, instead of getting everything from it she needed. She had goop smeared on her eyes even though she didn't even come out in the route that would expose her to what they worry about (the eye goop is to prevent STD transmission to baby's eyes, which we weren't at risk for anyway). She got a vitamin K shot she didn't need. These happened because the csection had to be done so quickly, and I didn't keep my mind together well enough to let them know what we wanted. I missed her first bath. I missed having her on my tummy after she was born. I wasn't the first to hold her, not even close. I got 10 seconds of cheek time, and don't remember the first part of life. I spent over 28 hours in active labor with no pain medicine, and still ended up with a c-section. It just feels unfair, and I cry when I walk around the house and see the places where I had pictured her being born. In the nursery while I was recovering, Keith overheard the nurses saying that Lily was the "failed homebirth baby" and I think of that often.
Failed homebirth baby. I think of that probably more than often. To add salt to the wound, the doctor was talking about what he saw during the surgery, and he told me about some s-word that meant he didn't think I could dilate beyond where I did. (I wish I could remember the word!) He said I could try for a vbac with a second baby if there was one, but he - despite being very homebirth supportive - did not think I was a homebirth candidate anymore. I forgot to ask how I developed pre-e during the end, but I guess it doesn't matter.
And don't get me wrong - yes, Lily is healthy, and yes, that makes it worth it. I can't count the number of people who have asked me, knowing how traumatic the surgery was for me, "But you have Lily, and she's healthy, and that's all that matters, right?" Of course it matters that she's healthy. If I didn't care about that, I would have said yes to the internal monitors and gone for what was left of the birth I wanted. She was always what counted, and was always more important. Always. And no, this isn't PPD. I'm grieving for something I spent months planning. That's normal, and healthy. I lost something pretty important to me, and am trying to figure out how to deal with that. It isn't affecting my ability to care for myself or her (although the frankenstein scar across my belly is a different story - I never thought I'd have to figure out how to care for a newborn while dealing with a giant hole in my belly).
And there are pluses. It doesn't hurt to go to the bathroom, for one! Haha.
Anyway, so in sum:
Lily Ann Barnstein
1/31/09
7 lbs 7 oz (funny story about this - I knew how much she'd weigh! When mocking up her birth announcement and filling in stats, I put 7 lbs 7 oz! And when a random person asked me how big the baby was going to based on ultrasound [seriously...who asks this of a random person you barely know?!] I BS'ed and said around 7 1/2 lbs...I actually had no idea so I made something up, hah!)
20 inches