The Delivery

OR, how quickly life goes to hell in a handbasket...

Contractions started up again on Friday evening, and were finally regular enough by Saturday morning that we went into the hospital at 8 am (6 cm dilated, fully effaced). My intention was to deliver naturally, so they broke my water at 10 am in hopes of getting things moving more quickly. Another 2 hours went by and I was at 7 cm. We added pitocin to the mix. By 4:30 I was stalled at 9 cm and going nowhere, except out of my mind.

So with much less reservation and guilt than I expected, I agreed to an epidural to alleviate the pain and please, please, please, help me get that last centimeter. It worked, and it was time to push. The baby's tape was showing some distress, so they needed to use suction, which also meant an episiotomy (also not part of the birth plan). I pushed for what seemed like a pleasantly short time, and Surena announced that we had a baby girl!!!

(Author's note: I have had a day or so to process what I am about to write next, so the true panic, terror, sadness, etc has been erased by the elation that she is doing well. In the actual moment, there was nothing but those raw terrible emotions, and I would have been utterly incapable of any levity.)

She was not a very good color, did not cry immediately, and was limp. The team whisked her away (again, not on the birth plan - she's supposed to be on my chest right now). Luckily, her heartbeat was always strong, but she had too many heavy secretions in her lungs to breathe on her own. Surena stayed with her the entire time, and Dr Ivey (god love him) rolled my bed out into the hallway where the team was working on her so I was able to hold her hand before they took her over to the NICU.