SHE'S HERE! Phew! After all that waiting, Ava Veronica Heugel has finally arrived! She was born at 10:10 pm on July 28th, 2008. She was 20 inches long, weighing in at 6 lbs 12 and 1/2 oz. What a day!
I had stayed up until 4 am that morning knitting what I hoped would eventually resemble a blanket, aware that I had a doctor's appointment at 9 am but not too concerned, as I was fairly sure that I wasn't any further dialated and I certainly wasn't having any further contractions. I just figured that I'd go in, have my membranes painfully stripped away AGAIN, and then go back and wince until I drifted off to sleep again.
How wrong I was. Well, partially.
I went in for my appointment, groggy and annoyed. Further fueling my annoyance was how late the office was running behind schedule. A half hour after my appointment was scheduled, bladder about to burst, they finally called me back. Lilyana, the office nurse, led me back to the exam room, took my blood pressure, and patted me on the knee, aware of my impatience to get the child OUT. 15 minutes later, my doctor finally arrived. As usual, she started out looking for the baby's heartbeat. Not as usual, she had a bit of a hard time finding it, and frowned when she finally did. She began the dreaded internal, again noting that I wasn't really any further dialated, but instead of the stripping I'd been dreading, she pulled her hand out earlier than usual. I looked up to see the same frown, but didn't think anything of it until I saw blood on her hand.
Bright red blood. A lot of it.
Before I could ask what was going on, she calmly stated that I needed to go over to Labor and Delivery right away for monitoring as the baby's heartbeat was not as strong as she would like. She rushed out of the room, saying she would call ahead and let them know I was coming.
I redressed myself, shaking. What did this mean? Why was I bleeding? Certainly that wasn't just my water breaking. Was the baby ok?
I called the boy and my mom on the way over. The boy had slept even less than I had under the same assumptions I had made and was probably less excited than me, but his concern overwhelmed any level of exhaustion. My mom asked why the baby's heart was slow and what had caused the bleeding, but hell if I had any answers. I just told her I'd call her once I knew what was up.
This visit to the hospital was a tid bit different than times past (obviously). I really had just assumed nothing big was up until they handed me the hospital gown. Before, I'd just hand to strip from the waist down and jump on the bed. Suddenly, things were looking far more serious. Still, though, there were no contractions or leaking water or even dialation, so it couldn't be today... could it?
Well, I was right about there being no signs, but concerned with the slower heart rate, the doctor decided we would induce. She prescribed an enema and a pictocin drip immediately. Like it or not, Ava was comin' out.
Well, so I had thought. At first, the contractions were no biggie. The boy dozed on and off in the chair next to me. I finally talked him into going to get something to eat when they put the catheter in, but aside from that, he just sat there trying to rest and jumping whenever the steady sound of the baby's heartbeat on the monitor spiked or lagged. Unfortunately, the contractions became more and more intense. Those of you who know me know that I am not good with pain. Like, at all. I put it off for as long as possible, knowing that I wouldn't get an epidural until I was at least 3 cm dialated, but soon I was begging for Demerol. An hour later, I needed another dose. An hour after that, I was begging for a c-section. My doctor told me she refused to perform one without medical need, and that she would now be breaking my water.
It sounds so simple. Like breaking a water balloon or something.
Yeah, right.
I screamed bloody murder, sobbing hysterically. Even after she stopped what she was doing, the pain continued. She had the nerve to get annoyed, saying the monitor wasn't even showing a contraction. Great idea- tell the hysterical woman she's being a baby. That'll get her to shut up right away. I continued to squirm and scream, convinced I was dying, blubbering that I wasn't strong enough to do this. Fortunately, I was 4 cm dialated, so I could finally get my epidural.
The boy had done very well. I knew he was scared, but he kept his cool as much as possible to help me keep what was left of mine. However, we both knew that getting the epidural would not be an absolute solution. Neither of us wanted to think about the length of the needle that was about to be inserted into my spinal cord, especially with me squirming in agony with each contraction. It was inevitable that a contraction would occur during the process, and if I didn't keep still, that needle could go in the wrong way, and.... I don't even want to think about it.
In any case, the anesthesiologist, Adam, and my nurse, Cristina (a saint, by the way) were all in the room. Adam was standing in front of me, holding my hands. They had just numbed the area, and a contraction kicked in. I was doing my damndest to keep still when all of the sudden...
"Now walk it out, walk it out, now walk it out..."
The far from soothing melody of one of the single most obnoxious songs to hear when you're in pain began to emanate from Adam's speaker phone. My blood began to boil and all capacity for rational thought vaporized in a split second. Quivering, I looked up with rage in my eyes.
"Turn.... off... that.... PHONE!!!!"
Poor Adam (yeah, there's no point in shielding identity anymore... and I'm lazy). He looked at me like a cornered animal about to be struck. He stammered something about not being able to get over to the phone because of where the anesthesiologist was standing, but such logic had no bearing on my demand. The nurse saw the beast emerging and moved to turn off the phone, but stopped mid-stride, giving Adam a funny look?
"Are you ok?" she asked.
"I'm fine," he said. "I should probably just drink something."
I let out a guttural yell, and she forgot Adam and moved towards the still ringing phone. At that moment, disaster struck. Adam went rigid, twitched, and began a fall backwards that seemed to last forever. He hit his head on the cabinet, fell to the side, and slammed it against a porcelain sink.
So there I am, needle being inserted into the spine, mid-contraction, love of my life unconscious on the ground, and totally freaking out. The nurse rushed to Adam's side as a flurry of other doctors and nurses entered the room and people started yelling things. I just kept crying as they brought him around. The only plus side to all of this was that I paid zero attention to the epidural being put in, and by the time they had Adam sitting up in a wheel chair, it was over and done with. They laid me down and began trying to convince Adam to go to the emergency room, but he refused (We still don't know why he passed out). This probably would have been more disconcerting, but within minutes the epidural kicked in, which is why the rest of the details from the hospital should be taken with a grain of salt, because DAMN those drugs were good.
While I departed to happy land, my mom and sister Brittany arrived. If I wasn't happy from the meds already, I was ecstatic then. I don't think anyone can truly appreciate their mom until their about to become one. In that moment, I was genuinely apologetic for putting her through hell for 36 hours before deciding to come out. I don't know how she did it.
The other thing, though, is that with the meds came a lack of conscious thought. As the nurses and doctors came in for continual examination, I didn't care anymore who saw what, when. Again, my mom had told me this would happen, but the evaporation of my modesty still seems rather mind boggling. My poor sister saw way more of me than she had ever anticipated.
Unfortunately, this happy fog was interrupted by the doctor coming in for an examination. My legs went up willingly, but came back down quickly as she shook her head.
"Lauren, you're still only dialated to four. We've given you all the pictocin we can. We're going to need to do a c-section."
These words cut through the fog like the knife she was proposing. Though just hours earlier I would have cried in gratitude, fear now seized me tightly. This was a major surgery. There were a lot of potential complications, and recovery was not supposed to be fun. Adam, my rock, even let his facade crack a little as fear flitted across his face. I gripped his hand.
"Is that really necessary?"
The doctor looked back at me with annoyance written plainly across her face.
"Yes."
I nodded, and she began barking orders to nurses for preparation. It was explained that they would up my epidural dosage so that I would be numb basically from the shoulders down. A bunch of questions were asked, but I don't remember a whole lot from this time span. I suddenly was freezing cold, and my teeth wouldn't stop chattering. I just kept trying to find my mom's face in the swarm, trying to stay calm and keep my grip on Adam's hand. I was panicked about the surgery, about the baby, about how prepared I was. This was it. She was coming out. Suddenly I was totally without confidence; was I really ready for this?
Little too late for that thought, huh?
They wheeled me down the corridor and into the operating room. This was even colder than my room and the hallways, and the walls echoed with instruments clanging about and my teeth smacking against each other uncontrollably. They strapped my arms down and I fought back tears. This was not how it was supposed to happen!
After what seemed like forever, they let Adam come in. At this point, they had put a sheet up in front of my face so I couldn't see my stomach being cut open. As much as I didn't want to watch, Adam was petrified. The whole time, as I fought to stay conscious, he held my hand and looked me in the eyes, telling me to stay with him. I don't think either of us have ever been so afraid. We couldn't hear anything at all, until in the middle of the sterile clanging...
There she was. Her cry, in that moment, was the sweetest sound I have ever heard. The doctor brought her behind the curtain, and Adam and I took in the sight of our dark haired, squalling, beautiful baby girl. Tears rolled down both of our faces. After months of waiting, wondering, dreaming... she was more wonderful that we could have ever anticipated.
He held my hand tightly while the took her into the corner to clean her up. You know, I know I've said it again and again on this blog, but wow.... I am so in love with this man.
The nurses called for him to follow them to the nursery, and I was again alone. Luckily, the emotional roller coaster and medical cocktail being pumped into my vein had left me exhausted, and I quickly passed out. I vaguely remember being rolled to "recovery," and I think I had an exchange with one of the nurses about how Madea's Family Reunion was better than Diary of a Mad Black Woman. At some point (I have no idea how much time passed), they rolled me into my room in the maternity ward. Adam, my mom and sister came in (I think) a few minutes later, followed closely by my beautiful little girl.
She is SO tiny. I mean, babies are small to begin with but she was was really small, especially for a child born into my family. She's like the size of a junior league football, and weighs less than my siamese kitten. But wow. She looks SO much like her daddy. Big, gorgeous brown eyes, a full head of dark hair, and the most precious little mouth you could imagine. I was in total awe. Let's be real- I still am.
At this point, the drugs were still thick. Over the next few days, they began to wear off, and I had to request pain killers. Modesty was still not a priority (as several of my visiting team mates found out the hard way), and learning to nurse was anything but easy (more on that later), but that Friday we arrived home, my new little family.
The past two weeks have been the most painful, joyful, tumultuous and miraculous of my life. Though some lessons have been learned the hard way, and there are many more to come, I am so blissfully happy.
Though this blog was originally intended to just chronicle the pregnancy, I think I'll keep it up. I hope you keep reading, be you friends and family far away, or just looking for a chuckle at our expense. It's sure to be a humorous adventure.
