Birth Story: Suck Ball City

I did it!  I figured out a way to type and tend to the baby!  A few pillows, the sound machine and we're in business!


Okay, so I'm about to tell my birth story.


Holy crap, I'm about to tell my birth story.


The one where *I* have a kid.  Me.  Desiree.


After 39 weeks and 2 days of ups and downs, tears and fights, varicose veins and peeing 50,000 times a day, it's my turn to tell my story.


Wow.


*God, Desiree, get on with it already.*


What?  Oh.  Right.  Sorry.


Okay!  Here we go!


Oh wait, can I show you my kid first?

Five days old and she's already changed so much.

I won't lie - things with Drew and I were really tense those last few days.  We were at the finish line and we were both scared to have come this far and be so close to the prize, so naturally we were all kinds of snapping at each other.  Drew really wanted to continue trying for a natural induction and while I did too, a part of me just wanted to just sit and breathe in silence.  One day, I took a walk and had a good cry and told Sofia not to mind all this, that if she would just come out and be healthy things will be so much better, that I really did love her daddy and we were all just scared.  I had a couple of contractions in response and thought that maybe right then she would come on out.  But nothing happened and I went home.  That was Friday.

My parents and brother arrived in Dallas Saturday afternoon.  Drew's parents had arrived the Thursday before so we were all assembled for the big show.  My brother is a great photographer and videographer and I asked him to document every possible thing.  It was the best thing I ever did and we have over 800 pictures and about 20 videos of the whole process.  I've watched the birth video over and over again and I still can't believe that was me - I had a baby.

 I also can't believe how big I got.

We all hung out Saturday, and Sunday morning Drew and I went to breakfast alone.  I felt such a strong sense of urgency about this being our last few hours of just us and I didn't want it to simply pass us by.

Last brunch as a party of two.

I had to go to the hospital at 7pm Sunday night so we all went out to dinner beforehand.  It didn't seem real - it felt like any other family dinner, with us talking about random things, remarking on the mix-up with the appetizers, all totally mundane.  Of course, that may have had something to do with me snapping at everyone to stop acting like this was my last meal on Earth, like I was going to the guillotine or something.  That might have had a little to do with it.

Heading to the restaurant.

39 weeks, 2 days

Two grandpas

The Uncle

The Dad and The Grandma

The Mom and the other Grandma

I wanted to see how it felt to try on these new titles.

It feels like I'm talking about someone else, especially when I refer

to myself as the Mom.

Soon enough, dinner was over and there was nothing left to do but get this party started.

Outside the hospital

All right, we're here!  

Setting up shop in our room

Okay, now the nitty-gritty!  THE INDUCTION.  DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUN  Showtime!

The hospital gown was on the bed, but I politely refused when my nurse offered them to me, telling her I had my own clothes.  Score one for me -  wearing my own clothes!

Yeah, but minus about a kabillion for the mother-effing Cervidil.

Even though I came in at two centimeters dilated and 100% effaced, the Cervidil is supposed to help with further dilation so in it went.

They SAY Cervidil is like a pill with a string attached, like a tampon.  IT IS NOT.

Tampons have applicators, allowing for smooth pain-free insertion.  Cervidil has no such applicator - it must be inserted manually and that is NOT fun.  Additionally, it stings - again, to help with dilation.  

My nurse was as gentle as can be, but there's no getting around the suck that is Cervidil.  It felt flat and I felt the edges sliding it in as she pushed it all the way up by my cervix.  Suck-Ball City.  Then came the external fetal monitors - that I had to wear all night long.  I didn't know that - I thought they'd get a reading and then take them off.  No such luck.

Untitled from Desiree on Vimeo.

The anesthesiologist came to my room in the middle of the night and asked me a bunch of questions - why do they do that? As if 11:30 at night is the best time to be asking my medical history!  Anyway, he was like whenever you want your epidural, just let me know.  I mumbled mm-hmm and closed my eyes, even though I didn't get much sleep that night because of the dumb belts and the fact that I knew what was coming.

The PITOCIN.  DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUNNN

So far, I'd gotten to wear my own clothes, I had the lights low, I was playing my own music, my family was allowed in the room so it didn't really feel like I was going to have a baby.  Even though the belts told me I was having contractions, I didn't feel anything so it still wasn't real.  But I knew the Pitocin would make things super real and I wasn't looking forward to it.

However, whether I liked it or not 7am was coming in all its IV-filled Pitocin-y glory.

I tried not to think about it.

Pretend this picture isn't here.  This was actually in the recovery room - Drew

pointed that out to me.  You can tell by all the water that was within my reach.