I guess I never did sit down and write about Elizabeth's grand entrance into this world. Now that she's nearly 1, and I've been reflecting on that time, I thought I might jot down what I recollect before the details fade, especially since most of what occurred in the days surrounding Elizabeth's birth is still somewhat fresh in my memory.
As an aside, if this is too much information, feel free to skip this particular post. I'm really recording this for myself. Anyway, here goes...
Elizabeth's Arrival: A Look Back
Sept. 3rd, 2007
It was Labor Day. Not MY labor day, but you know, the national holiday. It was also one day before my due date. The irony of being due one day after Labor Day did not escape me.
The weather was BLAZING hot, and I wanted that baby OUT! Not only was I ready to deliver because of all the pains and problems that come with being full term, but I was also ready to meet my little baby and learn whether it was a boy or girl. Although, at this point I was pretty convinced it was a boy. Not only was EVERYONE telling me I was carrying one (including random strangers in supermarkets), but one of the nurses accidentally used the "he" pronoun at one of my checkups. As a result, Vassil and I were pretty sure it was a boy.
Another reason I was MORE than ready to deliver was because by this point I had full blown PUPPPS (Pruritic Urticarial Papules and Plaques of Pregnancy) For those of you who don't know, PUPPPS is a condition that occurs in 1% of pregnant women. ONE PERCENT! And yes, I was one of those unfortunate few. It is basically a horrible, disfiguring rash that takes over most of your body, leaving you so insanely itchy that you feel like you are going to claw yourself right to death. In fact, many women with PUPPPS are induced WELL before they reach full term because of the insane itch... others have to be hospitalized. If you want to see just how nasty this rash is... do a quick google search, and then you might BEGIN to understand my pain. The worst part is that there isn't much that can be done for the condition (being pregnant and all), and worse still is the fact that scientists aren't motivated to research WHY the rash occurs or HOW to treat it since miraculously it disappears after giving birth. However, the general theory is that the DNA of the baby somehow enters the mother's bloodstream and causes an allergic reaction. Usually this happens with male DNA... in fact 70% of women with PUPPPS end up having a boy--thus adding to my certainty that our child WAS a boy. And because the only antidote is to deliver, as you can imagine, I was more than ready for my remedy!!!!
To get the situation moving along, I tried every trick in the book (herbal teas, exercise, etc.) all to no avail. I was desperate. And despite the fact that on that particular Labor Day it was BLAZING hot, I decided that Vassil and I would go for a walk around one of our favorite lakes which is about 3 miles around. Once there, we walked slowly. I was miserable. The heat only exacerbated my exhaustion. But we kept walking. Those who were walking past us or around us would make little comments... "You're gonna walk that baby out, aren't ya?" HaHa. Of course, I'd been used to these comments, since I was so enormous, I'd been getting little jabs like this every time we'd go for a walk since I was 7 months along! Typically I'd smile or make smalltalk. This time, however, I'd just grimace and trudge onward.
Somehow we made it around the lake. I was sweating like crazy, but no contractions yet. Vassil said maybe we should walk around one more time. And while it sounded like a good idea... I just couldn't do it.
We went home. No contractions. We waited. No contractions. Maybe tomorrow we thought.
Sept. 4, 2007
It was my due date. But despite our marathon around the lake, there were no contractions in sight. Fortunately we had a routine check up scheduled, which I felt might provide me with some hope that the time was drawing near. I was right. At the appointment, they discovered I was a few centimeters dilated... and to speed things along, they "swept my membranes." Almost immediately I started cramping. Thank goodness, I thought! It worked! We went home fully expecting to go into labor at any point. But by the end of the day we were once again losing hope. Contractions were coming, but they seemed to be getting further away instead of closer. We went for a walk in our neighborhood. A couple from across the street were also out for a walk with their dogs. They asked us when we were due, and laughed when we said "today!" Vassil then told them it might really be today since I'd been having some contractions. They wished us well, and we were off for our walk. I couldn't go far, but after a stroll around "Wisteria Lane" we were back inside.
At this point I had been sleeping on the downstairs couch for about a month or so. Our bed sat up high, and when attempting to get out every hour to use the bathroom, I'd have excruciating pain. The couch sat lower to the ground, and was therefore easier and more comfortable for me.
That evening, Vassil put some pillows on the floor and was resting next to me for awhile... timing the contractions and watching TV. They seemed to be slowing down and weren't regular at all. So he had me up and walking the living room, doing jumping-jacks, anything to get things going... especially since they seemed to pick up when I was active. But when it got late, and I got tired, and there were still no increase in contractions, I settled into the couch and he said goodnight, and went upstairs.
Sept. 5, 2007
That night, like all nights, I was up every hour to go the bathroom and to eat a popsicle (my only craving during my pregnancy). At one point around midnight, I got up to go and felt something wet drip down my leg. It wasn't much. And to be honest, I thought I'd just peed my pants a little. Just great! But as I sat down to go to the bathroom, there was suddenly a huge gush! My water had broken! There was no mistaking it. And instantly, there was no mistaking the contractions. They were coming, and they were coming close together.
I called for Vassil. Despite the fact that I was cool and calm, Vassil came down in a total panic. "My water broke," I explained. He was even more panicked, and practically yelled "We have to get to the hospital right now!" As he ran for towels, I couldn't help but laugh, and explained we had lots of time and we needed to be sure we got everything we needed. I had packed a bag for the hospital, but many things... like the camera, computer, even toothbrush etc. hadn't been packed since they were things that were used daily. Not to mention the fact that the birthing ball wouldn't fit into the hospital bag... and I wasn't about to sit on a "used" birthing ball from the hospital! ;) So with towels wrapped tight, I began to pack. Vassil was growing more and more frantic and desperate to get to the hospital. He called for the doctor, who was supposed to call us back. But after a few minutes, he was ready to go without a doctor's recommendation. "Come on... get in the car!" He kept insisting. "But I'm not even dressed... let me get dressed." I kept explaining back. Only problem, I was still gushing a lot of fluid, and I was afraid it would ruin the car's interior. "What should we do?" I asked Vassil. At this point, Vassil couldn't wait and was in no mood to problem solve. He wrapped me in towels, and practically dragged me to the car. "I can't go to the hospital without pants!" I cried! But Vassil didn't care. We were going, pants or no pants. And off we went.
When we arrived about 10 minutes later, I was pleased when the lady checking us in didn't seem phased by a woman not fully dressed. She made a quick phone call to the nurses in the back... "We have one in towels," she said nonchalantly, as though it happened daily. I had to laugh.
Once we got into the back, Vassil continued to be frantic and worried, but was an amazing coach and support to me at the same time. He had me on the birthing ball. He had me walking the room. He had me in all kinds of positions we learned from class--feeding me popsicles along the way. During tough contractions we'd spell the names we'd chosen for a boy and girl as a way to focus E-L-I-Z-A-B-E-T-H! We'd laugh when sometimes the contraction was so tough that I'd spell it wrong. We'd also spell out L-I-A-M, which was the name we'd chosen for a boy. I spent a good three or four hours bouncing on the birthing ball, spelling our child's name, with Vassil by my side. And when the back labor set in (which is the worst type of labor I've been told)... he rubbed my back until my skin wore raw and his fingers were blistering.
When we entered the hospital I was 4 cm dilated, and within a matter of three hours or so, I was to 9.5 cm. All without drugs! But when I was stuck at 9.5 cm for another four hours or so... and my back was bleeding from where Vassil was rubbing... and when even a dip in a nice warm jacuzzi didn't do the trick... it was time for the epidural. In fact at that point I was begging for one. Of course, my nurse kept saying things like "You're so close, you'll be pushing the baby out any minute, you don't need it!" So for another few hours, while I was stuck at 9.5 cm, I was begging for relief while Vassil rubbed my back away.
Finally the epidural arrived. Usually I'm very careful when it comes to medical procedures. But when the anesthesiologist arrived with a list of questions... (Have you ever had a problem with anesthesia? Have you had anything to eat tonight? Etc.) I quickly sputtered out "No! No! No! No!" before he could even finish each question. Finally, the epidural was in place. And it was soon time to push.
And push we did. Or I should say, I did. But after a few hours and little progress, the doctor warned us that a c-section might be needed. Perhaps that was his way to scare me into pushing harder, and faster, and longer. Which is what I did. Another hour later, the baby's head was coning more, but not descending any further. Likewise, she was stuck sideways.
Fearing the baby could be in jeopardy if we continued, we agreed with the doctor and opted for the c-section. Likewise, the epidural wasn't really helping with the back pain... only now the horrible pain had descended to, well, my rear-end. Although a c-section wasn't my first choice, I tearfully agreed to do what was best for the baby.
Very quickly we were prepped and wheeled into the operating room. Perhaps too quickly, in fact... as at this point I was beginning to panic. Especially since the first part of the prepping my husband had to be out of the room. I began to call for him, and started hyperventilating when he wasn't there, which is when the anesthesiologist decided to give me some extra sedation. As a result, I have very little visual memory of what happened. I remember hearing the doctors as they worked, and I remember a lot of tugging, and then at 3:11 pm feeling of a huge weight being taken from me, and thinking how the baby must be out. And then I remember hearing her cry, and hearing the doctor's say, "It's a girl!" and then hearing my husband whisper the same in my ear. I don't remember being shocked that it was a girl until later. Perhaps it was due to the sedatives. But I do remember when Vassil brought her to me right afterward and I desperately tried to open my eyes, and was only able to do so for a short minute... but it was all I needed to get a glimpse of my angel. I told her, "I love you." and kissed her cheek.
The next thing I remember I'm in the labor-and-delivery room... and the nurses are walking me to the delivery room.
After what seemed like a long time I heard Vassil say, "You have a visitor," and he wheeled in Elizabeth. He placed her in my arms and I was so overwhelmed. She was so beautiful. I looked at her face, and kissed her cheek, and looked at her tiny fingers, and removed her hat to see a small amount of dark brown hair. She was perfect. I then found out just how big she was 9 lbs 1 oz. and 21 inches long! I don't think anyone could believe it, except me!
As I held her, one of the first things I said was "I can tell she's going to be a vivacious little girl." I'm not sure why I used the word "vivacious" as it isn't a word I use frequently. But those were my words... and BOY has she lived up to them!
Recovery was tough. I'll leave it at that. The pain of a c-section was extremely tough for me, and I'm SO jealous when I see women running around a few weeks after a c-section like nothing happened. And the PUPPPS, which were supposed to go away about a week after delivery... lasted a good 4 weeks afterward. It was the worst pain. It looked like I'd survived a terrible fire... my skin totally red and raw and one huge rash. In fact, I'm not sure which was worse, the pain of the c-section, or the PUPPPS. When I look back a year later, my worst memories are not of the c-section pain (although I remember it to be agonizing), but the worst part being the PUPPPS. And now that's its a year, I still have horrible scars (scars that will never go away) where the rash was... a constant, daily reminder of the pain I endured.
We also have been through a lot emotionally. Our nurses did not treat us well, while we were in labor or recovery modes. It's hard to even talk about, but we felt alone and unsupported through much of the experience, and I'm still not sure if I'm ready to even talk about it. To write about it. To even think about it. You go into this with the expectation that it will be like on television. The nurses will be at your side, helping you along, that everything will go as planned.
But boy was it worth it. Elizabeth is the most amazing child. I'll be honest, life has not been easy since she was born. Along with a tough recovery was the fact that she refused to sleep through the night for over half a year... I was going nuts! But now that sleep is returning somewhat, along with my sanity, I look back and already long for that little bundle in my arms. And despite the fact that each day often proves tiring or frustrating due to Elizabeth's strong will, and even stronger temper... it is still the most amazing love I've ever felt and I can't imagine life without her. When Elizabeth is in the middle of a tantrum, or refuses to go to sleep... we often tease her, asking "Do you want a sibling?" As though that will somehow remedy the situation :)
And perhaps if God willing there will be another amazing little bundle, and another story to tell, in the years ahead!
