I want to start this
blog off with maybe something a little obvious for the theme, the reason why
I've created a new blog in the first place. I've wrote many a (sometimes
woeful) tale of pregnancy, and now that my daughter is born, I feel the need to
tell her very first story. Probably my favorite story in the world.
The Birth of Katiana
Cerise
They say that every
mother remembers her labor and birth story of each and every child. Now that
I'm thinking back on it, I believe that's true. Almost every detail on how I
felt and what I did is burned into my mind. You probably won't get all of them,
but I can share most of them.
Monday, October
27th, I was ready for my baby. She was
officially full term at 39 weeks, and I wanted her so bad, I turned to the
internet for help. What could I do to get these contractions started? The
answer was simple: eat pineapples to soften the cervix and use acupressure
between my thumb and forefinger to start contractions. I really wanted a
Halloween baby, so I was tempted to wait just in case… but I couldn't I had to
try whatever to meet my baby!
I sat on the couch,
feeling foolish as I secretly massaged my hand and stuffed my face with
pineapple. What happened next was either a coincidence or some freaky ish.
4am the next day,
Tuesday October28th, I had my first set of terrible contractions. I could only
imagine that they were the reason why women who get cramps cry and curl up and
need chocolate! I never had menstrual cramps, but if these were what they felt
like, I feel for all the women out there who deal with it. Anywho, I got those
and I woke KJ up. He practiced the techniques we learned in our birth class a
few weeks before, and I breathed through the pain. They were quite consistent,
but probably like 10 minutes apart, so it wasn't exactly cause to worry. I sent
KJ to work where he told his boss that he would leave in a hurry if I called
him to. Yes, KJ had fantasies of doing 100 on the freeway to get me to the
hospital.
I was alone with my
little cousin who had her first baby a year before, and she coached me through
a few things to do. She told me to take a warm bath to help with the pain and
it did help a little. I made it through the day to get to my doctor's appointment
at 3:30pm that was already scheduled. She checked me out and…. I wasn't dilated
at all. But my cervix was completely softened. Yes, internet, thank you. I did
things to start contractions, I did things to soften my cervix, but I forgot to
do things for dilation. Hardy har har.
I made it through
the night, but the next morning 4:50 am, Wednesday October 29, the contractions
were worse. I wanted to cry, but I
didn't want to panic KJ. He told me to time the contractions and they were 1-5
minutes apart. Then they started to become inconsistent until it was time for
KJ to go to work. I decided I had to go to the hospital. I called my doctor and
she told me if the contractions were still at least 5 minutes apart for the
next 30 minutes, to go to the hospital, but even if not and I'm still in pain,
just come in anyway. While I waited and counted, hospital bags in tow, we rode
to my sister's house, who was in the middle of a domestic dispute with the
police around her house. As I talked to the police and waited for my sister to
come out of the house, they laughed at me and said "Wow, you look like you
need to sit down." It was getting worse. As soon as my sister was okay, we
went to Hutzel Hospital, anxious, and with the butt warmer on blast.
We arrived and KJ
parked as I was wheeled into the lobby. I didn't want to go to triage without
him, so I waited as the lady made me a badge and asked me questions about the
baby. KJ arrived to wheel me up the elevator after the flirting woman gave him
a badge as well.
My mother works in
the connecting hospital, and I text her to tell her I made it and was being
examined. She completely abandoned work and arrived in her lab coat while the
baby was hooked up to monitors and they tracked both her heartbeat and my
contractions. They were irregular again, but the baby moved the sensors and
turns out it wasn't recording all of my contractions correctly. They checked me
for dilation. In one day, I jumped to 1 cm dilated! Still wasn't enough to be
admitted, so they told me to walk around for two hours and come back. I sent KJ
home to do something, and went to get some food from Wendy's. I tried to walk,
but the contractions were almost crippling. I ended up sitting in the
reflection room for a long time and got a little rest. Then I went back to the
third floor to try to walk around, but I could barely stand, so I went back to
triage.
I nervously waited
for results. This was it. Either I'm admitted or I'm sent home. However, I
would be damned if they thought I was going home. I would surely be sitting in
that lobby until they decided to admit me. I was checked and… dilated to 4 cm!
The woman congratulated me and stabbed me with a needle to put the IV in. Never
have I had an IV in my hand, but it hurt terribly. Of course my mother, the IV
perfectionist was upset about it. She arrived as soon as I told her I was being
admitted. Totally left a patient to do so. I did text KJ that I was being
admitted, and he got his time to shine as he sped on the freeway to reach me.
The next few hours I
sat, unable to eat anything but ice chips, in a labor and delivery room. I
tried to stomach the pain as long as I could as I was introduced to many nurses
and other hospital staff. Then they all proceeded to poke and prod me every hour
or so to check on my dilation. I bumped up to 5cm dilated soon enough and was
told to walk around to get things moving. My mother, my sisters, my little
cousin, and my aunt/uncle and her/his fiancé all took turns to visit me while I
ignored most of my breathing techniques and instead squeezed a stress ball or
asked KJ to squeeze my hand as hard as he could to take my mind off of the
pain. Medicine they gave me through my IV caused my hands to swell and my
breathing to become irregular, but they swore up and down my breathing was
fine.
Since I was taking
forever to make progress in dilation, they decided they would break my water
for me and give me some Pitocin, which would pump up my contractions… then I
was given the choice of an epidural. I totally took it!
Epidurals are scary.
Something goes into your spine area and we all know how dangerous that can be.
One little mistake could possibly leave you paralyzed, but I was told this was
the pain management option that wouldn't affect my baby. Everyone was asked to
leave the room. Then I sat, hunched over and stared fearfully into the nurses
eyes while she coached my breathing. The man behind me did the procedure
quickly - inserting a needle into my back and inserting the epidural. After
that experience was over, the pain of my contractions eased. I no longer had to
curse around my mom.
Events from there
got a little hazy. Of all the luck, my epidural wore off on the right side of
my body and it was so painful I almost begged for another does of something,
which they gave, but didn't really work. The half contractions shook me so much
and so painfully, I started to get dizzy. I remember telling everyone I
couldn't breathe and begging for them to wheel me outside. I remember crying
because I couldn't breathe (it made my sister cry, and KJ said he almost
cried). My mom said screw them and gave me an inhaler. They put a weak ass
breathing mask on my face which induced my claustrophobia and I yelled for them
to take it off. I groggily asked for water even though I wasn't supposed to
have it, but KJ and my mom gave it to me anyway. I even weakly asked my mom for
help. Yeah… I was a little dramatic!
Soon many of my
visitors left with the exception of my mom and of course KJ. As I got rest,
they also slept in their chairs, KJ waking only to squeeze my hand when I
needed it. I ridiculously told the nurse there were baseballs in my butt and
they told me it was time to push and it was the baby. I almost told them off. A
male resident came and inspected me, and I was up to 9 cm dilated, yet there
was still a little cervix or something in the way so I couldn't push yet. When
I finally could, I gave up the first go round. By this time, I was severely
shaking with each contraction. Another doctor came in and painfully shoved his
fingers up there which I tried to get him to go away but he refused which
eventually angered KJ and he sort of told the doctor off. I guess he eased up, but either way, back to
my pushing. I was told to push at every
contraction now. I tried so hard and it hurt so much. My mom and KJ held my
legs, but my legs are strong so I sort of kicked them out of the way. KJ
brought up the idea to let me use these handle bars which helped tremendously.
Pushing is freaking
frustrating. They are all telling you 'you can do it' and are rooting for you,
when all you want to do is tell them to FUCK OFF. I started saying I couldn't
push anymore, but KJ said I almost had it and he saw the head. I was a little more
determined this time and my mom fed me ice chips between each push. KJ kept
coaching me but I still just couldn't give that last push. I wanted to get it over with and begged for
them to just snatch her out, but KJ reminded me of those horrible forceps
things they would use. I really didn't care at that point. Sometimes, to
encourage the mom, they try to have her
touch the baby's head as she's coming out. The doctor said it so nicely and
politely and I screamed NO!!!!! My second to last contraction, I screamed as I
pushed as hard as I could. I didn't want a break. The next one I screamed so
loud and pushed, I felt the whole head pop out (so painful!) and the rest of
the body felt weird, wet, and warm as it slid out. It was over. I wanted to
pass out. But I also wanted to see my baby.
KJ who was adamant
about not cutting the cord actually did it. She came out crying, with a head
full of hair, and open eyes! He held her and cooed while they stitched me up
which took forever. My mom even got to hold her. I kept trying to look over at
them, but I couldn't move while they were stitching me. It was finally my turn
as they asked if I wanted to do skin to skin. DUH!
I held my soft,
velvet skinned baby for the first time and I wanted to cry. She was so darn
beautiful and perfect. 7lbs. 9oz. 20 inches long. Born at 6:27 am Thursday
October 30th, 2014. We were both born on Thursdays. I loved my little angel so
much as we stared at each other curiously. Her large obsidian orbs, a little
swollen from the eye drops they gave her, glancing into mine as I cuddled her
and loved her as I did when I first found out I was pregnant. It's odd to stare
at a newborn and think that she was literally developed inside of you. This
whole human being with ten fingers and ten toes who can make sounds, who has a
heartbeat, who will grow up and have their own children some day… Katiana
Cerise… she started off as small as a poppy seed.
Beautiful birth story. It bought me to tears because I couldn't stop thinking about the births of my six children.
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