39 weeks- James' Birth

Some women hate being pregnant. They complain about all of the aches and pains, losing their fit and trim bodies to an uncontrollable weight gain.  I did have a logistically difficult pregnancy, but other than my incompetent cervix and contractions at 23 weeks, I really enjoyed being pregnant. However, I was incredibly scared of the labor and delivery aspect of pregnancy. Really scared.

It turned out though, that I actually loved the experience.

39 weeks, getting ready to go to the hospital!

We were supposed to be induced at 7:30 pm on Monday night. It was the only open slot early in the week, so Dr. S. warned us we would probably deliver in the middle of the night. We both were concerned about the inevitable long night we would have, but happy to have the doctor that would be on call that day. She had taken care of us when we were admitted to the antepartum unit at 23 weeks and Dr. S. had great things to say about her. Our plans quickly changed when the charge nurse from Labor and Delivery called Monday morning to ask if we wanted to come in early. They had delivered all of the babies the night before and had free time already. We decided on noon and spent the rest of the morning nervously packing and trying to mentally prepare for the life changing day we were beginning.

We arrived a little late (typical) and by then the unit was busy so it took another hour or two before we were assessed by the OB, who checked my cervix and broke my water. I was at 4 ½ cm already, so she thought I might go into labor with just my water breaking. A little info on that… She uses a crochet-hook-looking stick. I thought it would hurt, and I thought she would have to use a speculum (we've already established how much THOSE hurt during pregnancy). I was pleasantly surprised that there were no speculums used at all, and I didn't even realize that she had broken my water until she was putting the hook away. I was also surprised how much fluid comes out. As I was talking to Dr. B, I felt a big gush and she said, yeah that will keep happening until the baby delivers. My awesome nurse Uno armed me with massive pads and Sean and I walked to the NICU to visit. After telling them I was at 4 ½ cm, Jane ordered me back to L & D. She apparently didn’t want to deliver a baby in the unit. J We walked around on and off for a couple of hours with no progress so Pitocin was started in an IV.

Before the contractions got cooking, we had a couple of visitors. First our friend Laura stopped by. She is going to be an OB/GYN, so it was especially fun to have her there and get her take on things. Good ol’ Dr. S. came in after his clinic hours to see us too. I was still waffling about the decision on using an epidural. Laura’s advice- “We have safe, modern medicine, why wouldn’t you use it?” Dr. S.’s advice; “I’m not going to give you my opinion…okay; I actually will…I made my wife get an epidural. I didn’t want to watch her go through so much pain that could be avoided.” You all know the respect Sean and I have for Dr. S…so I of course decided on the epidural after all.

After our visitors, my Pitocin dose was increased and we walked more laps around the unit. I knew we were making progress when I had to stop walking to breathe through a contraction twice in one lap. I told my nurse my decision to get the epidural and she told me we would put it in closer to 8 cm dilated. A couple of C-Sections were happening when it was time to get the epidural, so I was REALLY ready for it by the time the anesthesiologist came. Sean and my new nurse, Brittany, kept asking me if I’d be more comfortable in different positions but during the contractions I just couldn’t think about moving at all. A statement that best describes my feelings is one my brother-in-law says when he's hungover, “Everybody stop doing… everything.” The anesthesiologist showed up and did an amazing job putting in the epidural. He gave a bolus of some glorious medicine directly into the epidural layer so that I felt relief right away, instead of having to wait 10-20 minutes for the meds to kick in…and I told him he was my new best friend. We tried to relax and “labor down” after the epidural was in. A few hours of rest almost completed my dilation. I had just a lip of cervix left but I was getting really uncomfortable with back pain and a lot of vaginal pressure. Again, Dr. B was doing a C-Section so she was hoping I could hold off pushing for another hour. My “new best friend” came in and gave me a big bolus of medicine in my epidural. It worked and relieved both the pressure and back pain. Originally, I was able to move my legs and scoot around in bed, but after that bolus my legs were done for. 

At 12:30 am Brittany gave me the go ahead to push. She told me that I would push with just the nurse until I was crowning, then the OB and Trisha, the resident, would come to assist. I think Trisha liked us and she kind of hung out in our room while I was pushing anyways. At one point she told us she had delivered 99 babies so far, so the next one makes lucky 100 (I added the lucky part). Another mom down the hall was also close to delivering, so it became a race. Since I am a first time mom, everyone thought I would take longer, but Brittany said she thought I was spunky, so I would probably beat the other mom. She was right on both counts! 

Pushing was awesome.

I have heard other women say that they enjoy the pushing part of labor because they finally are actively doing something, not just enduring the pain. My enjoyment of the pushing goes even deeper. Bed rest kept me from moving around for five months. I hadn’t felt physically exhausted in so long. For the first few pushes I kept putting my energy into the top half of my body, but then I got into the groove when Brittany reminded me to pretend I was pooping.  It’s a gross comparison, but let’s be honest; nothing about birthing babies is glamorous! I couldn’t hold my legs up after the recent epidural bolus so Sean held one leg and Brittany held the other. I began pushing with all my might and between contractions I was physically beat. My diaphragm burned. I was thirsty. It felt AMAZING! I commented with winded breath that this was my first workout in nearly six months.

When the top of the baby’s head first cracked into the world, Trisha proclaimed, “He’s got A LOT of black hair!” Sean looked at me with encouragement and said, “You got what you asked for!” Sean was blonde as a baby, and the ultrasound pictures show a Sean look-a-like, so I was really hoping the baby would at least have my coloring. Once I was consistently crowning, Brittany offered to put the mirror up for me to watch. I politely said, “No, thank you.” I don’t need to watch my disgusting vagina stretch out…but they convinced me to try it, and I am so glad they did. When I tore (a 2^nd degree tear) I saw the blood, but it didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. Enough other things were going on that I didn’t care. About 1 ½ hours after I started pushing, they told me to switch to short panting pushes and Brittany broadcast to the other nurses that she needed a baby nurse for delivery. I knew that we were close to done and was surprised at the progress.  

Nothing in the world could have prepared me for the intense feelings that washed over me when that body finally slipped out through a final gush of fluid and blood into Trisha’s hands at 1:57 am. I suppose that was probably when Sean cut the cord, but I don’t remember. She placed my slimy, little, blue son on my chest and the journey this little boy has taken us on flashed before my eyes.

I can’t believe how lucky we are to have a large and healthy baby boy. Four months of bed rest, two scary hospital stays and one emergency surgery were a blur. It instantly became worth every tear shed, every worried moment, every frustrated day. I was finally holding our son, and he is the most beautiful and perfect newborn I have ever laid eyes on.

Our first family photo

A nurse told me to let her know when I was ready for her to take him for his checks. I told her she is going to have to just take him because I will never be ready to let him go. James “Jay” Vere Moore measured in at 8 lb 4 oz and 20 inches. The newborn hat didn’t even fit on his big head, over that gorgeous black, curly hair.

After I was safely recovered from the birth and given food and lots of water, Brittany put me in a wheelchair and we trekked to our new room in Family Care Suites. I requested that we make a quick pit stop first. We wheeled into the NICU for just a visit, to show off our son to my friends and coworkers. This is the amount of time I hoped Jay would spend in the NICU. What could have been five months was merely a joyous five minutes. 

Thank you for following and supporting us on this momentous journey through our pregnancy. We couldn’t have done it so successfully without all of the love, prayers and help that we received. It truly cannot be put into words how much it has meant to us to receive every call, email, text, Facebook comment and prayer.

I will continue to blog in a NEW blog site about our family and would love to have you keep reading. The new blog can be found at www.mooregrapevine.blogspot.com.