Baby girl was already 3 months old when I entered the wonderful world of blogging. This means I have some crucial posts to catch up on if this is to take the place of her beautiful, neglected baby book that is collecting dust in her closet. So without further ado, I bring to you the birth of Elle Elizabeth Girouard...
Any day now baby girl. These words frequently left my lips during the week leading up to Elle's birth. Don't get me wrong, I loved being pregnant. I actually had a pregnancy that would make most eyes roll when I'd proclaim my utter joy for it (and there goes another few eyes I'm sure), but it was time to meet this wiggly worm inside me. This being whose mere mention of, would send me into a stupor of thought.
Would she have my eyes? Does she look like her daddy? Is she indeed a little girl? Yes, most of these thoughts involved her appearance, but let's be honest, once we get that clean bill of health, isn't this what we all are dying to find out? I know I spent the better part of my nine months daydreaming of who or what she was going to look like (sometimes it can be "what". I swear, for the first couple weeks of her life she closely resembled MGM's Droopy) and the only way I was going to find answers to my many questions, was to give birth to the little monkey that I already loved with all my heart.
My first ultrasound had the docs pinning her date of birth on the 19th of June. I was hoping she'd hold out until the 20th so she'd share my sister's birthday who passed away many years ago. Sort of a circle of life miracle if you will. Baby girl had other plans. Still a miracle, but one that would begin on the 17th of June.
I'll skip all the Braxton Hicks, early labor events that started Wednesday (the 16th) and get to the good stuff. Two o'clock in the morning on the 17th on June, I had my first real contraction. 12 hours of mild contracting, a three-mile walk and warm bath later, I was growing increasingly irritated. Any day now baby girl.
Nothing was working. I was determined to stick to my birth plan and not head to the hospital until my contractions were five minutes apart. There was only one recommendation left to try and that required the help of my hubby (I'll leave you to figure that out). Let me just say it works. 15 minutes after said recommendation, my contractions were in full force and five minutes apart.
The hospital bag was over his shoulder and out the door we went.
I should state for those of you that don't know me well, I have a pain tolerance that is higher than most. This would be the only thing to save me from causing bodily harm to a few choice staff members that would cross my path later on. Let me elaborate...
By the time the car was parked outside those hospital walls, my contractions were three minutes apart. Each time a lovely contraction would hit, I would stand very still in silent (agonizing) pain until it would pass. Enter "choice staff member" number one...
Apparently the woman behind the check-in desk didn't realize silence was part of my routine, because she proceeded to ask me question after question until the Mr. had to make it clear he would be answering all she needed to know (I thought pre-registering two months ahead of time would have prevented this unfortunate questionaire, but nope). She must have thought because I was a first-timer, or wasn't screaming my head off in pain, that I came in prematurely and insisted I be sent to triage to make sure I was indeed in labor.
I waited another ten minutes for staff member number two. Like the check-in lady, the triage nurse must have seen her share of first-time mommies that were so anxious to have their baby, they faked their labor to be admitted because she treated me as such. She casually got me into a room and left. Another ten minutes crawl by. "Nurse" strolls back in to finally give me my first cervical check.
Despite all the pain I was in, I was calm and collected; this must have been the go-ahead for "Nurse" to not waste any time being gentle because hey, I wasn't in any pain anyway. Oh and if you're wondering why I keep referring to her as "Nurse" it is because she wasn't a nurse. She informed me she was not a nurse (can't remember exactly what she was) but was helping out because they were short-staffed. Between the worst cervical exam and IV of my life, forgetting my ice chips three times in a row, and ignoring me the entire time while chatting on her cell phone about dinner plans, I had no other choice but to believe her.
So here's the shocker. The cervical check results were in! I was nearly 7 cm dilated. "Nurse" wheels me past check-in lady and they share a little, "She is in labor" before I am officially admitted. One thing this experience taught me is, when asked "On a scale from 1-10, where is your pain at?", the answer is always "10".
When I was initially getting my birth plan together, I had decided I wanted to go all natural (I didn't want baby girl to experience any bit of drugs), but after my birthing class instructor informed me of all the pain relievers (IV and epidural) I made a different plan. She insisted (and my doctor confirmed) that only the IV relievers actually got to the baby. I talked it over with the Mr. and we decided I would only get the epidural, nothing from the IV, and I made sure to inform my doc the same.
Although I was handling the contractions very well, I wanted that epidural. I kept picturing the pamphlet they handed us in Birthing Class that showed the "Map of Labor"; the winding road of birthing balls and back pain vs. the epidural shortcut with pictures of napping women and couples lovingly gazing into one another's eyes. I wanted that shortcut of loveliness.
Unfortunately, it would be another three hours (and choice staff member) later before I would get it. They were short-staffed or on lunch or needed elsewhere. I heard it all and each time it just meant no epidural for me. They kept offering something to put in my IV, but it wasn't part of the plan. I should have just given up and done it au naturale, but I wanted the hubby and I to gaze lovingly into one another's eyes. Is that really too much to ask?
The anesthetist finally graced me with his presence and his second try with that uncomfortably large epidural needle was the winner; I waited for the magic to begin.
The magic never came.
For some reason the epidural only numbed my left side (mostly leg) and I could still feel every contraction. It was a little better, I won't lie, but in no way, shape, or form was it napping women and happy couple quality time. My map went like this...
I was still 7 cm when my membranes ruptured. (Sort of. I actually only had a small leak and my fore bag was still present).
The Lakers beat the Celtics, giving them their second NBA championship in a row (and I thought it couldn't get any worse).
I was told I would be checked at nine o’clock and if there was no progress they would start pitocin to move things along. No progress, pitocin began and at the next check is when they realized my fore bag was still present. They broke it and labor progressed rapidly (if only they had realized this sooner). I went from 8 to 10 in two hours and it was time to push.
Now here is where I began to get uneasy. I'm not exactly sure why, (I think it may have had to do with the hysterically screaming women across the hall that had been filtering in and out), but the thought of pushing scared the poop out of me and I thought it literally might. But more than poo-poo panic, I thought the women next door had to be screaming for some reason and it must be the dreaded pain of pushing. I had been suffering in silence the entire time but was now gearing up my lungs to do the same wailing (shows how much I knew).
Pushing was a breeze and what a relief! I have to say it was my favorite part of the entire experience. I pushed for 30 minutes and on June 18th, 2010 at 2:21 a.m., our world was changed. Out came my precious 8 lb, 21 inch long miracle I had been so anxiously awaiting. She was plopped down on my chest; her goopy, purple body looking more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. We were in love.
The wonderful hospital staff (funny how your tune quickly changes when you experience that much joy) said labor could not have gone more beautifully. Honestly, I couldn’t have been happier with my experience as well. No poop, no screaming, no complications, and I got to take home a baby that is and was, worth every second of annoyance and pain I encountered during her birth. Overall, (cue the eye rolls now) it truly was the perfect ending to the perfect pregnancy.
Baby girl fresh from the hospital
And in case you were wondering...
This is the closest thing I have of her in her Droopy phase. (We saved this photo to embarrass her with later. Everyone needs a funny baby photo!) You had to see it in person to get the full effect.
I love you baby girl!
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