Birth Day

While on maternity leave, I often watched the Discovery Health Channel to avoid the many talk shows, soap operas and mind numbing female-centric TV movies that dominate daytime television. They have a string of shows concerning pregnancy and child birth. One called "Birth Day," http://health.discovery.com/tv-schedules/series.html?paid=62.5711.107816.14984.13, chronicles a pregnant couple's big day in the hospital and never fails to make me cry at the moment of birth, especially if it was a difficult or risky delivery.

Our own birth day experience was also beset with difficulties and risks. Early on in my pregnancy, I was diagnosed with chronic hypertension and put on a blood pressure lowering medication. For several months, the medication worked to keep my blood pressure within the normal range. Although everything else was normal, I had to have more frequent ultrasounds and fetal non-stress tests to monitor fetal growth and activity, because it was considered a high risk pregnancy.

At my 36 week appointment, the doctor discovered a significant amount of protein in my urine for the first time. In addition, my blood pressure was elevated. That day, I was given a large jug and what looked like a plastic helmet to collect all of my pee for 24 hours. On the morning I was to turn in my pee project for testing, my blood pressure spiked higher than it had before, prompting a call to the on-call doctor. He wanted to see me at the hospital to triage the situation. A couple of hours later, they discharged me, because my pressure stabilized, and my blood work came back normal. A couple of hours later, the doctor called with the news that they found even more protein in my big jug, meaning that I had preeclampsia. He scheduled an induction for the following evening, and we began making phone calls.

By the date of my induction, I was at an estimated 37 weeks--3 weeks before my estimated due date and not an ideal time to induce. We were aiming for at least 39 weeks, given the risks and the apparent large size of the fetus. At 35 weeks, she measured between 7 and 7.5 pounds already.

Because of the fear that my mild preeclampsia could develop into toxemia and lead to organ failure and/or seizures, my doctor put me on magnesium sulfate at the start of the induction. They inserted cervical ripening drugs at the same time, explaining that, unfortunately, the magnesium sulfate may work against the ripening and contraction-inducing efforts, because it is also used to stop contractions. In addition, it brought nasty side effects like weakness, sweating and breathing problems. Twenty hours later, after 3 cervical ripening drugs and 5 hours on Pitocin, I was still only dilated to 2-3 centimeters. I developed a worrying pain in my chest and had to be hooked up to oxygen. I could no longer find a comfortable position to lay in, and I was hungrier and thirstier than I ever remember being, having not eaten or drank for about 29 hours, except for ice chips and Popsicles.

And no one told me how much their efforts to check my cervix for dilation would hurt! Each time left me breathless and sobbing. When the once strengthening and 3 minutes apart contractions came to a screeching halt, despite the administration of Pitocin, I asked for my options. The doctor explained that some patients continue trying to induce for 3 days. Another option would be to insert some kind of balloon device up my vajay-jay to stimulate my cervix to ripen further. That works even less often than what we had already been trying and sounded, frankly, unpleasant. The last option was to have a C-section.

For some reason, I thought choosing door #3 seemed like the easy way out. However, the drugs they were giving me were showing no signs of progress, and we could wind up doing it for days and still opting for a C-section in the end. I was tired, concerned about the chest pain and nervous about the preeclampsia and magnesium sulfate having negative effects upon me and Kate.

As soon as I said, "Yes, C-section!" they had C in scrubs and me wheeled into the operating room. My whole body trembled as they administered a spinal that worked in minutes to numb my abdomen and lower body. I felt some pulling and tugging but no pain as they made their incisions. At first, I wondered if I should be feeling anything and grew anxious, until I got used to the weirdness. Minutes after they cut through my abdomen and uterus, they were lifting a white liquid covered being out and suctioning her mouth and nose. She barely cried while the pediatrician and nurses assessed her, so I became nervous as they invited C to come over to take her first photographs. I heard the pediatrician explaining that her oxygen levels were low, probably because of her gestational age and that awful magnesium sulfate. As a side bar, the OB/GYN practice group apparently has doctors who disagree about when to use it, and the OB I saw the day before did not recommend its use for me, but the one on call at admission disagreed.

The longest part of the surgery consisted of the next 35 minutes or so to deliver the placenta and stitch me closed. I overheard the doctors discussing a nodule or nodules they found on my ovary. Ah, the pitfalls of being awake at your own surgery. I was too scared to ask anyone about it until my six-week doctor appointment postpartum. Fortunately, they removed the nodules, sent them along with my placenta to pathology, and everything was normal.

While they finished up, they placed Kate on my chest while C snapped away. His tears started earlier when she was first born. I just stared at her in disbelief. Was she really ours? They are going to let us take her home? Her navy blue eyes wide open and seemingly alert, she stared up at me while blowing tiny bubbles of fluid through her mouth. She was not as big as we thought at 7 pounds, 2 ounces and 19.3 inches long.

They wheeled me into recovery just as I started feeling some mild pain at the incision site. Pain meds, please! Kate only had to stay overnight in the nursery to monitor her oxygen saturation, so they brought her to me again briefly. This time, I felt dizzy shortly afterwards and asked C to take her. Even after all that Vicodin and morphine, I still felt normal and not that out of sorts. However, each time the nurse pushed on my uterus, I reflexively tried to smack her hand away because of the intense pain. I remained on magnesium sulfate for the next 12 hours while I negotiated with the new on call doctor to take me off it before the recommended additional 24 hours. I must have eaten 12 Popsicles by morning. Good thing I am not diabetic.

The next few days in the hospital were a blur of visitors, attempts to breastfeed, and learning the ways of this squirmy newborn. I even thought her cries were unique and cute--"Laaaa, Laaaa!" By the 5th day, I was ready to go home and muddle through with our little family. An orderly ceremoniously wheeled me downstairs to the car with Kate draped across my lap trying to stare at the overhead lights whizzing past her field of view. Gaggles of female strangers were cooing and remarking about the amount of hair on her head as we passed. I felt like I won a prize and was taking a victory lap. I suppose I have.