She's Here: Lily's Birth Story

OK, it's just a wee bit overdue, Lily being a month old now, but better late than never. If having a three year old, a newborn, and no working computer isn't excuse enough, I don't know what is.
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Welcome to the world, Miss Lillian Margaret.

Lily officially made her entrance on Sunday night, February 22nd, at 11:46 pm. She was seven pounds, four ounces (not the mega-baby that the ultrasounds had her pegged to be) and 19 3/4 inches long. You may have noticed that she came about 12 hours early, since I had an ultrasound scheduled for noon on Monday. On Sunday we were just chilling out around the house. The plan was for Pete and I to drop Corinne off at school on Monday morning, as per our usual routine, and then we'd head off to the hospital from there. Well, as my father always says, if you want to make God laugh, make a plan. First off, there was a snowstorm forecast for Sunday night and they were calling for a foot of snow, so we had grandpa on stand-by for Monday morning, in case Corinne's school got cancelled.

For much of the day on Sunday I felt kind of crampy. At first I just figured it was because I was drinking a ton of water, and the baby was just kicking my full bladder. As the day progressed, though, I began to notice that the discomfort was coming at even intervals. I mentioned to Pete that he might want to call his dad and make sure he slept with the phone that night, just in case. I consulted the pregnancy bible, "What to Expect When You're Expecting", and confirmed that true labor contractions will get gradually more painful and closer together. Mine weren't even really painful, just uncomfortable. But I decided after our dinner of hot dogs and beans that maybe I should start fasting for surgery sooner rather than later (I was supposed to start at midnight).

We put Corinne to bed and sat down to watch a movie ("Good Luck Chuck"). I got myself a piece of paper and started writing down what time the contractions were starting and how long they lasted. Turns out they were every five minutes, like clockwork, and were lasting 30 to 45 seconds. I decided that maybe it was time to call my OB, just to see what they wanted me to do. I was somewhat alarmed when the on-call OB (who wasn't even one of the ones in the practice. What's up with that?) told me to come in now. Yikes! I told her it would be at least 45 minutes, given that by now it had started snowing/ raining and Pete's dad lives several towns away and all. Suddenly there were a million things to do- last minute packing, showering, telling Corinne we were leaving, etc. It felt like it took Pete's dad and brother 4 hours to get to our house and then we were off to the hospital. It felt kind of surreal. We had just been talking about how nice it would be to go to the hospital in the morning after a good night sleep, and have the baby in a much more leisurely fashion, compared to the highly stressful 30-something hours of labor and "urgent" C-section with Corinne. And now here we were heading to the hospital at 10pm. So much for best laid plans.

We got to the hospital uneventfully enough, even with the slush and snow and freezing rain. The nurses got me hooked up to a monitor and started tag teaming us with admin paperwork. The OB came in and said that we'd be doing the C-section that night, around 11:30. I was surprised, thinking that they'd just hold off until the next morning since my contractions weren't bad. I guess they didn't want me to start laboring too hard (which was fine by me). The next hour or so flew by in a blur. Once again we had a couple "decels", which is when the baby's heart rate drops. It was frighteningly reminiscent of Corinne, except even scarier this time because we feel that this may have contributed to Corinne's PDD. At least this time there was no waiting around- we were in the OR within just a few minutes. I was more aware of things this time (having not just labored for 30 something hours prior). I definitely felt the tugs and pushing and heard a lot of sucking and horrifying noises (Pete likes to speak of how they have a person on each side of the incision pulling it wide open while someone else literally pulls out the entire uterus and sets it down outside my body cavity) Having watched a lot of ER as of late, I was acutely aware of all of this, fearing that at any moment I would "crash", or throw up the hot dogs and beans I had eaten only four hours before. But all went well, and out she came crying heartily right from the start. She did have some meconium (translation: baby poop) in her lungs that needed to be suctioned out, but her Apgar score went quickly from 6 to 9, which was a relief. I got to look at her, but couldn't hold her (my guts being all wide open and all). I teared up a little, but was surprised that once again I didn't cry (considering I cry uncontrollably watching other people deliver their babies on episodes of a Baby Story). She had a head full of fairly dark hair, just like I had been so surprised to see on her sister when she was born (it eventually fell out and came back in blond, which made a lot more sense, at least in the realm of Punnett Squares and Mendelian genetics).

After that Pete went with her to the nursery for cleaning up while I had my tubes tied (hey, while you're in there...) and got stitched back up, which seemed like it took forever. I was shaking like crazy and I hate that feeling of not being able to move my legs; It makes me claustrophobic. I went back to recovery after that and from there it's a bit hazy, which I now know is from the delightful drugs they give you.

Corinne came to visit with Grandpa and Uncle Jim the next afternoon and we were thrilled with how well she did with the invasion of this new person into her life. I think the months of preparation made all the difference, all the counting down and book making/ reading and discussions at home and school. Not only was she not upset, she was quite interested in her new baby sister and even touched her (this is the child who, for the past nine months out of the clear blue sky, would suddenly say adamantly: "I do not want to hold the baby.") She gave her the ultimate compliment, normally reserved only for Shamu, her best stuffed animal: "She's so cute!" I think she sees her as more like a pet or a new toy than another kid and potential competition for her parents' attention and affection. We'll see how long that lasts.

I stayed in the hospital until Thursday, at which point I was dying to get home. Pete stayed with me the first two nights. After that he'd head out to pick up Corinne from school at 2:30, bring her back to the hospital until bedtime and then stay at home with her for the night, returning the following morning. I missed him and Corinne and found it hard to get by at night by myself because of the surgery (things like getting comfortable to nurse, getting up to put the baby back in the bassinet, etc. are easier with help). Plus the nurses kept bringing Lily back into the room with me at night because she wouldn't settle down in the nursery. What's the point of staying in the hospital if you can't get that much needed break from the baby at night that everyone recommends so highly? I think Lily just didn't want to be away from her momma, because she would nurse for about 2 minutes and then promptly fall asleep. She's definitely a little love.

So there you have it, finally. A nice, uneventful birth story. This is a time when high drama or a good story are not what you want. I'll post pictures when we finally get our computer back up (I'm using Pete's work computer for this) and I will post again soon (maybe even today, but I make no promises!) with the happenings of our first month with Lily, which has also been nicely uneventful for the most part.



* Note: I asked Pete to look this over prior to publishing to make sure I didn't leave out any important details. He read it and said, "It looks good to me. You mentioned the hot dogs." That's my husband, folks.