Happy Birthday, Bethany! September 21, 2010
Going into labor was pretty normal. During dinner at home, I started feeling a little crampy, but didn't think anything of it. (After dinner, I actually sent texts back and forth with Marcus's sister, Malina, about how to induce labor. She gave us ideas that we had previously tried, except for squeezing the achilles tendon. Marcus gave mine a gentle squeeze while laughing about how natural induction methods don't seem to do anything.)
Fast forward to one o'clock in the morning. I am having trouble falling asleep and begin to feel tight contractions with intense cramps similar to menstrual cramps. At 1:15am, Marcus and I start timing them. They start to hurt more and more, so I make a warm bath. I continue to time the contractions and they're six minutes apart and four minutes apart following a six-four-six-four pattern. (It might seem silly, but I really wasn't sure if I was in real labor or having really strong false labor pains.) After the bath, I lie down to try and get some sleep. The next contraction I have in bed is super strong and I tell Marcus that it is time. We leave the house at 2:45am.
We make the thirty minute drive to the hospital and the contractions spread to eight minutes apart. This worries me since I've always heard that contractions are supposed to get closer together. The intensity, however, varies. Some contractions are super intense, some are moderately intense.
At the hospital, we make our way through triage, fill out some additional paperwork, and are checked by the admittance nurse who tells me that I am very much in real labor. (Upon arrival at 3:15am, I was 5cm dilated and 90% effaced.)
We are given our labor and delivery room. The anesthesiologist comes in and explains the different pain medications available and at this point, I willingly take the epidural. Everything is getting more intense and more painful. (Contractions really do hurt. Mine felt like the worst menstrual cramps I've ever had – and I’ve had the kind that give you the shakes, make you break out in cold sweat and cry – intensified.) After alleviating the pain, Marcus and I try to relax. By this point, we've called my parents and sister and they're on their way. All we have to do now is rest and wait.
Fast forward again, my family has arrived hours ago and we're all still waiting. I've been checked several times. I am having good, strong, consistent contractions, but according to the doctor they're not close enough together, so I'm started on pitocin which will help make the contractions happen more frequently. At 11am, I am completely effaced, but only dilated to 5cm which is a concern since I've been stuck there since 3am. The doctor says if I don't make any more progress, we have to consider a c-section which is something I don't want. He is also concerned about my size and the size of the baby. I start praying hard, ask for prayers via Facebook, and my dad attempts making me laugh with his cervix dilation cheer. I try hard to think about flowers and doughnuts and anything that opens.
Forty miraculous minutes later, I am dilated to 9 1/2 centimeters and my worry of having a c-section is relieved. The doctor says we will start pushing within the hour. During that hour, we try a few practice pushes. The doctor is impressed that I'm able to push and push well - however - the baby isn't coming down. (By this time, the feeling in my legs has returned and I can feel all sorts of pressure, but not pain.) Two of my nurses come back later for more practice pushing, I do a few pushes on my back and the nurses start closely monitoring the Bethany's heart monitor which is dropping. The doctor comes in. I am told to quickly change my position to my side and push. Bethany's heart rate is still dropping. I’m told to wait and we listen for her heart rate to come back up and then switch sides and push. Her heart rate drops. Again, we wait for it to return to a low normal. I try moving into an all four position which I hope with all my heart will work . . . but her heart rate drops dangerously low again. Everyone has serious looks on their faces as they’re evaluating the screen while discussing what to do. I am already scared, but now I start to get very nervous because I’m pretty sure I know what is coming.
The doctor explains that I can push like a champ, but Bethany isn’t coming down the way that she should and that with every push her heart rate drops frighteningly low. He believes this is happening because her umbilical cord is most likely shoved up against a wall of my uterus and is being pinched off like a garden hose with each push. He also believes that the baby is packed very tightly within my body which also has to do with the squishing of the umbilical cord and baby not making any movement downward. (He was also surprised that a doctor from his practice had not evaluated me differently during the end of my pregnancy, but what could be done at that point?)
He continues to explain that the safest way to deliver Bethany is by cesarean section. To try and push her out would be putting her life at risk. We try and explain this to my parents who are now worried. They have a hard time understanding at first because my mom delivered huge babies and she is smaller in height and stature than I am. (My mom even tries to explain this to the nurses in an effort to help.) They explain to her what is going on and she finally accepts it. My parents and sister tell me they love me and that I’ll be okay. They are sent to wait out the next two and a half to three hours.
During the brief time of trying to explain what is going on to my family, my labor and delivery room has filled with people who are moving very quickly. Marcus has been dressed in scrubs and has been told he will be allowed to enter the operating room once I’ve been prepared for surgery. It’s starting to hit me that I am going to have a c-section and I am beginning to feel overwhelmed and frightened. Of course, I want what is best for Bethany and will absolutely go through with this, but I don’t feel mentally prepared at all. Marcus kisses me and tells me that he will see me soon. As I’m wheeled away from him, despite all my efforts not to, I start to tremble and cry.
The anesthesiologists work on numbing my body so that I am able to stay awake, but unable to feel anything. Everything from my shoulders down is numb. I can feel pressure and touch, but no pain. In the operating room, I feel like I’m on a medical television show complete with giant bright lights, a radio playing, and the eight or more people who will be involved in completing the surgery. I’m still crying (not hysterical sobbing – I am leaking frightened tears.) and one of the anesthesiologists tells me to be happy because we’re about to have a birthday. I’m trying hard to smile and keep playing the song, “Hold me Jesus, I’m shaking like a leaf, You’ve been King of my glory, won’t you be my Prince of Peace?” over and over again in my head. I’m also trying to remind myself that Bethany is on her way while hoping that Marcus gets to hold my hand soon.
As soon as Marcus is allowed in, he immediately starts trying to comfort me by talking to me. I can barely talk and attempt squeak out some frightened answers to his questions. He talks about Bethany and makes me laugh, but decides that he shouldn’t make me laugh too much since I’m on an operating table. He continues to talk to me all during the surgery. I feel pressure and weird pulls and I try to block my ears from hearing anything, but Marcus’s voice.
The surgeons tell Marcus to get the camera ready and that he is allowed to photograph the last few moments of surgery. He squeezes my hand and starts to take pictures. (The photos are pretty crazy. I am impressed he could stomach what was going on.) A woman’s voice calls out, “Time of birth: 15:13!” and I wait in anticipation for her little cry. I finally hear her sweet little wail and I start crying (not just leaking!) happy tears. Marcus is rushed over, so he can be part of Bethany’s cleaning process. She’s cleaned up, checked, and weighed and then brought over to me. I cry more happy tears as I look at our beautiful baby girl. I am overwhelmed by love. (God is so good. Oh, how He loves us!) We’re given a few short moments and an anesthesiologist takes a few pictures for us. Baby Bethany is taken away and I send Marcus off with a kiss and order to “Go follow that baby!”
Marcus goes with Bethany and my body adjusts to recovery. My body is reacting to the medication and stress because everything above my shoulders is shaking uncontrollably and I end up vomiting (liquid) from nausea. I fall asleep and wake up near my wonderful husband and our beautiful daughter in a small room. Even though I am pretty out of it, I am able to give Bethany her first meal with coaching from the lactation consultant. Marcus shows me photos and video of my family meeting Bethany. I drift in and out of sleep in my recovery bed and stare at our sweet baby sleeping in her bassinet. Marcus says I attempt talking to him, but he’s pretty sure I don’t know what I’m saying since I ask him for the time three times in a row. After Marcus, Bethany, and I have spent close to two hours in the small recovery room, I am sent to our very nice hospital recovery room. Marcus is sent with Bethany to the nursery for her first bath. He says she cried and wailed the entire time and I’m a little bummed I didn’t get to see it!
My parents and sister stay with us until visiting hours are over. We all ooh and ahh and love on little Bethany together until it’s time for them to go. In our room, Marcus and I reflect over how long and eventful the day has been and enjoy being a new family of three with our little Bethany. We’re so thankful for her birthday and that she is here, safely and soundly. We are delighted by all the sweet, tiny little movements and different sounds that she makes. Our hearts overflow with an intense, deep, beautiful love. We are overjoyed to be parents and are so grateful to God for the gift He has entrusted to our care.
Happy Birthday, Bethany Robyn Burnette! Mommy and Daddy love you so, so, so much!