The evening of Sunday, February 15th, Jon and I were with our good friends Lynnea, Jen, and Brady. Valentine's Day had been my due date, so any miniscule sign that K was coming tended to make me want to rush to the hospital and bribe anyone present to get her out of me. I was having uncomfortable contractions, but they were no where near predictable, and I didn't feel any pain, so I tried not to get excited.
We made the obligatory nothing-better-to-do-on-a-Sunday-night-in-Templeton trip to Target and walked around, finding things to buy that we didn't need. While taking laps, I started having contractions that forced me to actually stop and catch my breath. We indifferently finished our shopping and headed back to our house.
My contractions kept coming, and though I knew they weren't close enough together, I couldn't help but think that Kealani was going to make her appearance sooner than later. Jen and Lynnea decided it would be a good time to learn the Soulja Boy dance and proceeded to Youtube the song and study the choreography. (Fun fact: Auntie Nae was wearing her Edward Cullen shirt because yes... she's just that hip.) I started writing down the time each contraction came, excitement building as I noticed they were finally getting closer together. After watching Black Sheep (or some other ridiculous Chris Farley movie), our friends decided it was time to go. They told us to let them know if anything else happened, and maybe they'd see us at the hospital tomorrow.
It was 9:00 pm when I told Jon I thought we should head to the hospital. The contractions were about five minutes apart, and painful enough that I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. We casually gathered our things and made our way downstairs. (No water breaking, panicking, or speeding to the hospital like in the movies... it's not our style anyway.)
Jon drove the mile and a half to Twin Cities Community Hospital while I cursed the speed bumps on Santa Rita as we seemed to hit one every time I was having a contraction. (Yes, it's one of two roads in Templeton with speed bumps... the route Jon chose.)
When we got there, I wasn't dilated very much so the nurse told me to walk around the floor for about an hour, and they'd check me again to see if I had progressed at all. One of my fears was being sent home, especially feeling the way I did... if I'm in this much pain now and they tell me to come back later, I think I will have Jon run me over in the parking lot.
Thankfully I progressed a couple centimeters by the end of my stroll (which felt like a marathon, pausing every couple minutes to grab Jon or the handrail attached to the wall as my contractions strengthened) and I was officially admitted around 10:30 pm. We got "comfortable" in our room, I climbed into the bed, arranging my sexy backless tent into a more flattering position, and we waited.
I went into this labor wanting to "go as long as I could" (hoping it would end up being the entire time) without asking for any medications. I lasted about an hour before I asked for the first round: intravenous narcotics, which are less invasive (i.e. paralyzing) than an epidural and supposedly "take the edge off". I believe it was close to another hour before I thought to myself, you have nothing to prove! You love to sleep! You WILL NOT sleep unless you take MORE DRUGS! And I asked for an epidural. Asking for an epidural does not mean you will get one in the near future. The anesthesiologist needs to be called, jarred from his REM cycle in the middle of the night, then he needs to show up, then he needs to be able to effectively insert the giant needle into your spine. So another hour later, after two stabbings into my back, amidst ever intensifying contractions, I felt sweet relief (numbness) and was actually able to sleep until 7:00 am!
Jon and I woke up to an incredibly stormy day, rain pounding on the windows of the hospital room. This made me somehow feel better, knowing I would have been trapped inside all day whether I was in labor or not. We watched some terrible morning shows, ate some terrible "breakfast", and continued to wait. Some family and friends were even able to come in and hang out with us for short periods. (Hey, when you can't feel your contractions, you can be jolly and welcoming instead of demonic and filled with rage.)
It was during one of these visits, in the middle of my labor, we learned that on Jesse and Moriah's way to the hospital (in the middle of the night when they heard Kealani was on her way... what dedication!), Moriah had hit a raccoon on the freeway and it had actually done some legitimate damage to her car. Funny at the time? To Moriah, no; to us, kinda. Funny now? Definitely.
At some point mid-morning, a nurse came to check my progress and it was discovered that I had been stuck at 7 centimeters for quite a while. The on-call doctor, Dr. Thomas, came in to talk to me about my options. He told me that I could wait it out to see if I progressed any further, but also that they wouldn't let me wait forever, and there was a good chance that I'd end up needing a C-section anyway. I was ready to get this kid out of me... I was starting to feel the contractions again, which were plenty painful, and I didn't want to go several more hours just to wind up having the surgery in the end. Jon and I decided to get the ball rolling on the C-section.
Apparently nothing happens quickly in the hospital unless there's a true emergency, or your baby decides to shoot out before anyone is ready to catch it. It took almost an hour for the nurse to come in with the paperwork I was required to fill out and sign before they would cut me open. Shortly after I completed everything, Jon and I were the only ones in the room, and I suddenly started having the most intense contractions yet, along with the feeling that I was pooping the bed. (If you can't live without more details on that, read Things No One Tells You About Becoming a Mom. I dare you.)
When our nurse returned, most likely to wheel me into surgery, I told her what I was feeling, and she said, "Oh, then you might be ready to push!" It seemed our little girl already had a mind of her own, and after hours of taking her sweet time, she wanted out right now. Dr. Thomas came in soon after that, and began making preparations. This is when every contraction really started to hurt. I assumed my epidural had worn off completely. It was the only explanation as to why I would now be in so much pain after being able to labor in my sleep all night long. (In giving birth to Leila without meds, I learned that no... my epidural had absolutely not worn off... more on that in her story.)
I was instructed to grab my own legs, right under the knees, with Jon on one side, a nurse on the other. Every time a contraction came, I pushed (which feels like trying to take a huge, painful dump). Each push was held for ten seconds, and I had to do this three times for each contraction. Kealani was slowly making her way down and out, but eventually Dr. Thomas decided the vacuum was needed. After an hour of pushing, one more contraction, and some suction, at 12:37 p.m., Kealani was born!
Someone immediately placed her on my chest, and she looked up at me, her eyes wide open. I couldn't believe I was finally making eye contact with the tiny human that I had only felt from the inside for so many months. Kealani Joy was 8 lbs 14 oz, and a very tall 23 inches (that height thanks in part to Daddy, and in part to the extra-pronounced cone head due to being vacuumed out of me... at her one week check up she was only 22 inches).
Nothing compares to the experience of giving birth. It's physical, emotional, spiritual, and completely different for each mother. For me it brought relief, joy, thankfulness, a new fear of our cruel world, an understanding of my parents I'd never known before, and a love so huge that it took a couple weeks to recognize it. Most importantly, it brought my first daughter, Kealani... the tiny human that Jon and I made together, and have vowed to be examples of faith and love to for the rest of our lives.
Apparently nothing happens quickly in the hospital unless there's a true emergency, or your baby decides to shoot out before anyone is ready to catch it. It took almost an hour for the nurse to come in with the paperwork I was required to fill out and sign before they would cut me open. Shortly after I completed everything, Jon and I were the only ones in the room, and I suddenly started having the most intense contractions yet, along with the feeling that I was pooping the bed. (If you can't live without more details on that, read Things No One Tells You About Becoming a Mom. I dare you.)
When our nurse returned, most likely to wheel me into surgery, I told her what I was feeling, and she said, "Oh, then you might be ready to push!" It seemed our little girl already had a mind of her own, and after hours of taking her sweet time, she wanted out right now. Dr. Thomas came in soon after that, and began making preparations. This is when every contraction really started to hurt. I assumed my epidural had worn off completely. It was the only explanation as to why I would now be in so much pain after being able to labor in my sleep all night long. (In giving birth to Leila without meds, I learned that no... my epidural had absolutely not worn off... more on that in her story.)
I was instructed to grab my own legs, right under the knees, with Jon on one side, a nurse on the other. Every time a contraction came, I pushed (which feels like trying to take a huge, painful dump). Each push was held for ten seconds, and I had to do this three times for each contraction. Kealani was slowly making her way down and out, but eventually Dr. Thomas decided the vacuum was needed. After an hour of pushing, one more contraction, and some suction, at 12:37 p.m., Kealani was born!
Someone immediately placed her on my chest, and she looked up at me, her eyes wide open. I couldn't believe I was finally making eye contact with the tiny human that I had only felt from the inside for so many months. Kealani Joy was 8 lbs 14 oz, and a very tall 23 inches (that height thanks in part to Daddy, and in part to the extra-pronounced cone head due to being vacuumed out of me... at her one week check up she was only 22 inches).
Nothing compares to the experience of giving birth. It's physical, emotional, spiritual, and completely different for each mother. For me it brought relief, joy, thankfulness, a new fear of our cruel world, an understanding of my parents I'd never known before, and a love so huge that it took a couple weeks to recognize it. Most importantly, it brought my first daughter, Kealani... the tiny human that Jon and I made together, and have vowed to be examples of faith and love to for the rest of our lives.
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| Kealani Joy |
