Everyone's got a birth-plan in some varying degree. Important decisions are made concerning natural delivery or c-section, epidural or no epidural, water birth or on a table in stirrups, midwife or a doctor, home birth verses hospital, etc.
Our plan was to have a natural delivery on or around his due date of October 22, the doctor was going to deliver, we were going to sit in a pool of water to ease the pain and help the cervix prep for delivery, Sarah was not at all opposed to the epidural, and we were going to go home the next day.
We have now been in the same hospital room for 55 hours and counting.
Here's the story:
Sarah was to have a check-up on Wednesday (the 31st), a week and a half after her due date to make sure baby was stable enough to handle the new due date of Nov. 5. On her way after work, however, there was an accident and she didn't make it on time. They didn't have room for her anymore, and had to reschedule for the following day, Thursday (the 1st). This was very upsetting to her. When you're overdue, you draw nearer and nearer to the day the placenta will stop working. The placenta is what supplies the baby the nutrients and oxygen needed to sustain life, as well as ridding any waste product from the fetus. There was nothing she could do aside from get our stethoscope (thanks, Gail), and listen to his heart rate herself, which she did and it settled the nerves a bit.
The next day I get a call from Sarah at 4:02PM: "Guess whaaat", in a really sing songy pitch and rhythm. The song continued on, "we're having a baaaby". Knowing the answer, I still asked "What? When?!". She sang again, "Toniiightt". She was on her way to the hospital when she called me.
At her checkup she found out that the amniotic fluid levels were low. As far as we understand it, that means the placenta had begun to exhaust itself and was acting overdue. This wasn't bad yet, but they told her to head to the hospital to prepare for an induction just to insure safety for baby.
Sarah works about 10 minutes from where her checkup was, and about 20 minutes further is the hospital. Back in Laie, in my own little world, I had been in and out of a few classes and was about to study O. Chem. My neighbor, Brian, had come over that morning to give me his car keys, a kind pattern he got into this week, dropping the keys off in the morning, and picking them up in the evening. I got our hospital bag that had been pre-packed and headed out the door to the hospital.
At the hospital they measured Sarah's cervix. Even at 10 days overdue, she was "maybe 1 centimeter" dilated according to the midwife. They decided to insert something that would help move the cervix along before actually inducing the heavy contractions with the pitocin. Whatever they inserted definitely did something because she began having small contractions. The problem, however, was that with each small contraction Sawyer's heart-rate would drop significantly from about 130-150 to about 90. The amniotic fluid was half the amount it should have been at that point, and it caused difficulties in how Sawyer could handle the contractions. They pulled the medicine helping with the cervix and told her their options. They could wait it out and see if she began to naturally dilate through the night, or they could do a c-section right then and there. They brought to our attention that they didn't believe Sawyer would fair well with the big contractions needed to deliver if he was reacting so adversely to the very small ones that Sarah could hardly feel, and that I would still get to be there for the delivery. They also informed us that they have the lowest percentage of c-section deliveries in the nation because their primary goal is vaginal; meaning if they're recommending a c-section, then they're really thinking it's necessary. They assured us that this would be preferred because it's under a controlled environment instead of having to rush into the OR because of an emergency situation had we attempted to do this naturally. Usually under this latter circumstance they have to put mom under, and when they do that, they don't allow dad in.
We chose to go ahead with the c-section and Sarah received her epidural. On the way to the OR, they asked that I wait in the hallway as they prep Sarah for surgery; they said they would come get me when I could come in. I waited in a chair down the hall. After about 10 minutes a lady came out of the room and over to me. When I expected "you can come in now", I instead got "I'm sorry, you won't be able to come in. They had to put Sarah under." I said, "Why? What happened?", and she said she didn't know, that she was only watching tonight. Of the millions of feelings and thoughts that flooded my mind one was that this was OK. Somehow, a very calm part of me figured it was best that everyone that knew what was going on stay in the room and do what they could to see this along safely, and that I would find out more when the time was right.
I sat there praying everything would be fine, and somewhere in me, I knew it would. The confidence I had didn't lessen the surprise and relief I felt when I heard a shriek in the distance. Faint at first, then half a second later, the most amazing bouts of infant crying I had ever heard flowed from the doors Sarah went through. I didn't know if the doors led to a room of other mothers and babies, but somehow I knew that those shrieks were Sawyer. Tears filled my eyes, as I literally started to laugh out loud all by my lonesome in that hallway. Knowing that he was out and breathing was the most amazing rush I'd ever felt. I still had no idea what was going on with Sarah, but I at least knew the surgery was a success in bringing him safely into the world. His cries were so loud and strong, and I kept thinking, "yeah, Sawyer. Give 'em hell!"
The nurse took this for me before I got to see Sarah again.
Kid hardly moved an inch once under this heating lamp!
His credentials.
Sarah was taken to a lower floor to a "recovery room". They still hadn't told me much. After the delivery they sent me to our room with Sawyer where just he and I got to sit together and start figuring one another out. A nurse would come in on occasion to check on him, and one of the times she was in, another nurse came in to tell me I was needed downstairs. The former nurse watched Sawyer. Can you imagine how tired I am at how poorly these nurses pass on information? I made it downstairs to find Sarah hooked up to machines that were monitoring her vitals. She had tear filled eyes and was slow moving. Everything was ok, but the hype of the day had caught up to her and she was really emotional. I already had a few pictures on my phone of Sawyer, and I used them to help soothe her and let her know everything went great. We were only there for about 20 minutes when they cleared her to come upstairs to be with Sawyer and I (and the billion different nurses we would become acquainted with over the next few days).
Today, we go home. Sarah has showered, is walking consistently, and eating solid hearty meals. Sawyer passed everything with flying colors, and both have been admitted to leave. Be home in no time! And going there in class.
Dressed to the 9's for his ride home.
In the end we did finally get some information. The epidural given, accidentally acted more like a spinal tap. Once in the OR, she still had feeling when they were about to begin the incision. Instead of acting like a local anesthetic and targeting where she would have the surgery, the medication went upward and effected her lungs making it difficult to breath. Having to act quickly they put her under and gave her oxygen. Thus, no papa in the room.
Side note: Sarah lost 1000 cc's of blood (1 liter). With a c-section they expect mothers to lose anywhere from 500-1000.
Regardless of all the excitement, turn of events, and plans that fell through, it's crazy to admit that these 55+ hours in one room haven't been bad at all. Honestly, one of the greatest experiences of my life.
