I still have a few pregnancy pictures I never posted, and honestly, I
probably never will because who cares now, right? I mean I had Julia, and she’s
really what we’ve all been waiting for (plus she’s way cuter than I am).
While I’m sure everyone has heard that Miss Julia River Contor was born, not
everyone has heard my birth story. I’ve been wanting to write it for a while now
(well, almost exactly a month), but I either didn’t fully have the words yet, or
the time was not yet available to me. With my almost one-month old napping next
to me, I think I’ll take a moment to try and tell you what happened. (Pictures
included, thanks to the very wonderful talents of Andrea of
Andrea Jo Photography). Heads up,
this is a record for myself as well, so I might get a little more detailed than
you're comfortable with. Also, it’s super crazy long, so I hope you’re in for
the long-haul.
Saturday, December 13th, 2014
06:00
I got up to pee (for the zillionth time), and as I was
wiping, I noticed some pink. It was that kind of pinkish blood that you get
right at the beginning of your period. You know, the stuff that makes you say,
“Dang, it’s back. Wasn’t it just here last month?” Except, when you’re 41 weeks
pregnant, it makes you say, “Finally some progress!” Which is exactly what I
said (well, almost). I had read about the shedding of the mucus plug and how
it can either be in one snot-looking pass, or it can be a gradual bloody
discharge. I had also read that it could mean that labor was anywhere from a few
days off to a few seconds off; so, I went back to bed and debated with myself
whether I should wake Jake up or not. If it was a few days, or even hours, off,
Jake could sleep a little longer—and I figured that labor probably wasn’t a few
seconds off just because everything else had been going so slow (at my doctor’s
appointment the previous Thursday—only two days prior—I had been told that I was
not only not dilated, I wasn’t even softening up. My doctor’s exact words were
“Well, that just isn’t budging, is it?”).
Before I could really decide one
way or another, Jake woke up to use the bathroom. Because he was already awake,
I told him that I had some blood and that that was a good thing (he looked a
little nervous when I first told him). I told him that it meant we were finally
moving in the right direction. I was pretty excited. (I had really wanted to go
into labor on my own, but since I was 41 weeks and not softening at all, my
doctor had scheduled me to be induced the following night—Sunday, the 14th.)
06:15
So Jake went to the bathroom, and then he came back to bed.
I felt like I still needed to go even though I had just gone (welcome to the
world of pregnancy), so I did. As I sat there, I kept wiping and wiping, but the
fluid just kept coming. It wasn’t a gushing, so I wasn’t sure right away that my
water had broken, but I had also read (and been told) that sometimes when a
woman’s water breaks, it’s more like a trickle than a gush (in fact, it’s very
rarely a gush, unless it’s medically induced—meaning the doctor uses a big
crotchet-needle-looking thing to tear the bag). Because I was on the toilet, I
wasn’t making any effort to hold anything back, and I just kept leaking. From
our toilet, you can look into our room and see the bed. I told Jake to call his
mom (who was previously a labor and delivery nurse and who is now a NICU nurse)
and ask her how much blood constitutes “holy crap, holy crap, we should go to
the hospital now”? So, he called and the very short conversation went something
like this:
Jake (laying down in bed): Hi, Mom. This is Jake. Danica is
bleeding—(he sits bolt upright) okay, we’ll there soon.
Like I said, it
wasn’t a very long conversation. I put on the only pad I had in the house (I
hadn’t had a period in 41 weeks, and prior to that, I had only had periods for
two months because before that I had an IUD, which meant no periods, for 3
years).
07:00
After making sure that cat would have enough food,
double-checking that we had everything we would need and slowly waddling out to
the car (I waddled. Jake walked—just in case you were confused), we left for the
hospital.
On the very brief walk from the car to the hospital, I told Jake that my
water had definitely broken—or at least it was in the process of breaking. I
could feel all kinds of leaking. It honestly felt like a period—a gush that
makes you wonder if you peed your pants, but you know you didn’t pee because you
tried to stop it, and it wouldn’t stop.
Jake and I went up to the second
floor and down the hall to Labor and Delivery.
I was shown to my room.
I changed into a hospital gown and sat down the on the
bed. The nurse, Maggie, had lain out what I call a puppy-pad (you know those
absorbent pads you use to potty-train a puppy? It was one of those, only for me
and not a puppy). Maggie explained that she needed me to leak on the pad (that
was not a problem) so she could test what I was leaking and make sure I really
was leaking amniotic fluid and not something else. She said that if I wasn’t
leaking amniotic fluid (and provided I wasn’t leaking something
life-threatening), then I would probably be sent home. She asked me a bunch of
medical history questions (and up until I had Julia, my medical history was
incredibly boring—which it turns out was a good thing. Doctors like boring
medical histories). Eventually, after many questions (some to see if I had
Ebola, which of course I did not), I was finally tested. She had this tiny strip
of paper that she rubbed against the mess I had left for her on the puppy pad.
It turned the magical color of purple that meant I was leaking amniotic fluid,
and I could stay!
07:55ish
I was officially checked into the hospital. Maggie
checked my cervix, and I was dilated to a one (she did tell me she was being a
little generous). I was poked in preparation for an IV should I need it, and I
was told to hang out and wait for the real fun to start. I was also informed
that, unless my contractions started for real (I had the beginnings of
contractions; they didn’t really hurt. They were more uncomfortable than
painful—they felt just like period cramping) and I started to dilate, I would
probably have to be put on pitocin and induced anyway, but I was also told
they’d wait a few hours to give my body a chance. Now, poor Jake was still
essentially in his pjs and a full beard. His mom was just finishing her shift at
the NICU (which is just down the hall from labor and delivery), so she told Jake
she’d hang out with me so he could go home, shower and come back feeling like a
person instead of a zombie. I was fine with that. While hanging out with Jake’s
mom, my contractions started. They were uncomfortable, and I could talk through
them.
10:15
By this time, the contractions were definitely
more than uncomfortable, but I could still talk through them. They were about
three minutes apart. Maggie checked me again—I was still at a one. She told me
that she and the doctor (Dr. Cox) might put a little pill right next to my
cervix to soften things up. It also started to look more and more like they were
going to have to put me on pitocin. Jake was back by this time and we’d all had
some breakfast (I was told I could eat because pushing was far off, and labor
was probably going to be long). Jake’s mom went home to get changed and get some
sleep (she
had just gotten off the night shift).
12:25
The contractions were getting stronger. I could no longer
talk through them, but I could still breath through them. The resident, Dr.
Mayo, and Maggie checked me again. I was still at a one. Maggie and Dr.
Mayo said they were going to talk to Dr. Cox and see about getting me started on
pitocin. Jake napped when he could. I was still able to manage the contractions
on my own, so I let him sleep because I knew I was going to need him later, and
he’d need all the energy he could get. At this point, I still wanted to have
Julia as drug-free as possible. It wouldn’t be easy, but I was confident I could
do it.
13:05
I was put on pitocin (for those of you who don’t know,
pitocin is a drug—technically called Oxytocin—that is an artificial version of
the hormones a woman’s body produces to start labor. It causes contractions to
become stronger, longer, and closer together). I really hoped that I’d only need
the pitocin to get going, and then I could do the rest of labor without it. My
hope was in vain. The pitocin kind of worked: my contractions definitely got
stronger, longer, and closer together, just like they’re supposed to.
The
contractions were terrible. I needed Jake for these, and he was there. He helped
me breath. He helped me focus, and I needed to focus. I knew they would be bad.
I didn’t know they’d be that bad, and the worst part was that it was only the
beginning. Maggie gave me a few tricks: she raised the bed so I could stand next
to it and lean into it. She said squatting would help in two ways: it would help
me manage the pain, and it would help the contraction do what it was supposed
to—move baby further down and soften my cervix (and hopefully dilate it as
well). The only problem with doing this was that I would lean forward which
meant that the monitor that was keeping track of Julia’s heartbeat went offline
during the contraction, and it’s during the contractions that they really need
to watch her heartbeat. Luckily, Maggie was pretty awesome. She said that as
long as I made sure I leaned back so the monitor could pick Julia up again after
a contraction, she’d only need Julia’s heartbeat during a contraction once or
twice every half hour or so. If she could see that Julia’s heartbeat was
essentially the same before and after a contraction, she could tell that Jules
was doing just fine.
During these contractions, I moaned. It seemed to be
the best way to try to manage the pain. I would use the bed to get through a
contraction, and then when standing became too exhausting, I would sit on an
exercise ball and rock and moan my way through the pain there. Maggie said I was
textbook. I was doing everything I should be. I was doing everything exactly as
I should be. I was perfect. Except for one thing.
14:30ish
Maggie said they were going to check me again soon. I
told Jake, after a particularly nasty contraction that I couldn’t manage because
I had to stay on the bed so they could watch Julia’s heart, that if I wasn’t at
least at a two, I couldn’t do it. I had already been in labor for eight hours,
seven of which were accompanied by contractions that were only getting more
painful. If I was dilated to a two, I could do it. It meant that there was a
purpose to my pain, and we were going somewhere. During each moment of relief, I
told myself that I could do it. I could have this baby without any kind of
pain-alleviating medication, but during the contractions, I had a much harder
time convincing myself of that. They were getting to the point that I was sure I
was just going to burst into tears, but I kept telling myself to hold it
together. Maggie finally came and checked me. I could tell by the look on her
face that it wasn’t good news. Not only was I still at a one (she said I had a
little wiggle room), but they were going to have to increase my dose of pitocin,
meaning the contractions were only going to get more intense and much closer
together, meaning less recuperation time between pain. I almost cried. I looked
at Jake and told him I couldn’t. I looked at Maggie. I just couldn’t do it. I
was already exhausted. I didn’t have the strength physically, emotionally, or
mentally to make it through nine more centimeters, not if they were all going to
take this long and definitely not if the doctor was going to have to up the
pitocin, which he was. I told Maggie I couldn’t do it. I told her I wanted to do
it, but I couldn’t. She told me that getting some pain management medicine would
be a wise decision. She also told me that, based on the level of intensity and
frequency of my contractions, I was experiencing the contractions that are
typical when a woman is dilated to a five or six, but I was only at a one. She
said that the contractions were only going to get worse, and that I would still
need energy to push once I finally made it to ten. Maggie also explained that
while I was doing everything I was supposed to and everything I could to get
myself to relax during the contractions, there’s only so much that we can
control, and my body wasn’t relaxing enough to let the contractions do their
work. My body was staying too tense during the contractions and was fighting
them. This was why I was having contractions that should have been dilating my
cervix but weren’t. She said the epidural would help my body relax enough to let
the contractions do their job and get Julia down.
The anesthesiologist came
into the room shortly after this (probably on request of the nurse), and I had
just had a particularly bad contraction, so when I saw him, I said, “Are you the
angel of mercy?” He thought that was funny, but I was actually pretty serious.
He asked me if I needed anything, and I said the epidural. I had so wanted to
have Julia without the medication, and maybe if I didn’t have to be on the
pitocin and could have worked up naturally and gradually to the contractions I
was feeling and would feel leading up to that ten, then maybe I could have done
it, but that wasn’t an option. My amniotic sac was punctured, which meant Julia
was no longer safe in a sterile environment. Every minute I didn’t have her,
every moment I wasn’t closer to that ten and to pushing her out was a minute and
a moment bacteria could be invading. She was at risk—not a high risk, not yet,
but we were getting closer.
15:20
Angel Paul (the anesthesiologist), as my sister called him,
started me on the epidural. Holding still during a contraction while someone
sticks a big needle in your back is not easy, but I had Jake, and I had Maggie.
Paul was also really good at his job. He waited until my contraction was over
and immediately started the process. Each time he had to do something that
required me not to move, he would warn me. I was then able to tell him whether
it was a green light or red. When he was actually putting the epidural in, he
had started right after a contraction, but the process took long enough that the
next contraction started before he had finished. I wish I could tell you exactly
what that was like, but part of me doesn’t have the words and the other part
doesn’t fully remember (which is probably for the best, I’m sure). There were a
few terrible contractions in between getting the epidural put in and the
medication actually kicking in, but once that medication kicked in, I was much
happier. I could still feel a tightening, but it wasn’t the intense pain it was
before. This epidural allowed the doctors to turn up the pitocin, and it allowed
me to finally rest (not sleep, mind you, just rest).
Maggie came in later
and told me that I had made Paul’s day by calling him the angel of mercy. Her
exact words were “He’s walking around this hospital like he owns the place.”
Around 16:15ish
I was checked again. I was finally at a
two. Maggie had been right. Within one hour of being on the epidural, I had
dilated a centimeter. If my tolerance for pain was higher or if I was more
mentally capable of handling that pain, who knows how long it would have taken
to finally get that two. At the end of the day, though, it was still only a two,
and I had eight more centimeters to go.
20:15
Sometime during this whole thing, my mom and sister had
driven up from Utah. They had been there for when I received the epidural, but I
don’t remember exactly what time they came. I also don’t remember what time they
left. I just remember essentially kicking them out because I needed sleep and
for sleep, I needed quiet. And while they were doing their best, Palmers aren’t
exactly known for being quiet. Sometime after they left, I asked Jake to call
the nurse in. I was really shaky. I had noticed it earlier, but it came and
went, so I hadn’t thought much of it. At this point, I was almost constantly
shaking. The nurse came in (there had been a shift change, so this was a
different nurse. Her name was Louisa). She checked me, and I was dilated to a
three (yes you read that right. I’d been in labor for fourteen hours, and I was
at a three); I also had a temperature of 101.2 F. Dr. Mayo was informed, and he
came in to talk to us. He said that because my water had broken so early in
labor, I was at risk for infection. To see if I had an infection, they looked
for three things: whether I had a temperature (which I did), what my heart rate
looked like (good), and what Julia’s heart rate looked like (also good). Because
I was only one of three, I wouldn’t need any antibiotics. If I became two of
three, they’d need to start me on the antibiotics.
Sometime shortly after 20:40ish
I wasn’t really sleeping as much
as I was dozing. Louisa and Dr. Mayo returned. Julia’s heart rate was getting
tacky, and I still had a temperature. They started me on two different
antibiotics intravenously that would continue to be administered all through
labor until Tuesday morning. Sometime after this—I’m not sure exactly when—I
called Louisa and asked her if the epidural could be turned up. Angel Paul came
back and explained that I was supposed to feel pressure; I told him that I was
feeling more than pressure. I was okay being uncomfortable, but the whole point
of the epidural was that I would be able to rest and sleep, so I would have
energy to push, and the pressure I was feeling was enough to make that rest and
sleep elude me. I told him he only needed to turn it up a hair. He did. That
wonderful Sainted man.
23:55
I told Louisa I was feeling a lot of pressure. She asked if
it was all the time or only with the contractions. I told her it was only with
the contractions. She told me I’d know when it was time to push. Dr. Mayo came
in to check me again. I was at an eight. Louisa said it was no wonder I needed
the epidural turned up a bit; my body had finally gotten the message that we
were having a baby. As much as we had all hoped Julia would be born on the 13th
(so her birthday would be 12/13/14), at 5 minutes to midnight it was close but
no cigar.
Sunday, December 14, 2014
02:00
Louisa and Dr. Mayo came back in to check me—they had to
wake me up because I had finally fallen asleep. It was finally time to start
pushing. Well, it was time to get everything ready so then I could start
pushing.
02:08
I started pushing.
While I was pushing, I had a temperature. I don’t know how high it was. I
also must not have been getting enough oxygen because Louisa gave me an
oxygen mask to wear between sets.
I pushed for everything I was worth. Jake held one leg, and Louisa held the
other. The leg Louisa held was completely numb. I couldn’t feel it at all, but I
could feel Julia. It was an intense pressure. My first few pushes were terrible.
I had never done this before; I didn’t know what they wanted. Louisa and Dr.
Mayo were very helpful. They told me where to focus. Jake was perfect. There
were a few pushes when Louisa and Dr. Mayo had stopped counting, and I needed
the counting. The counting told me how much longer I needed to go for. I
couldn’t push indefinitely, but I could push for ten, breath, push for ten,
breath, and push for ten more. All I had to do was say, “count” and Jake would.
Eventually, I got a push where Dr. Mayo and Louisa both said “good push. That
was a really good push.” So, I focused on making them all like that one. I
focused on that feeling.
And I pushed.
They could see her head.
Dr. Cox came. And I pushed.
03:19
After 21 hours of labor and an hour and ten minutes of
pushing, Julia River Contor was born. 8 lbs 0 oz. 21.5 inches long
At some point earlier, they had noticed in my waters had a color that meant
meconium (baby’s first poop) was mixed with my amniotic fluid. I saw Julia
briefly. Then they took her to the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) to make
sure she hadn’t swallowed any meconium.
Jake went with her to the NICU, and the doctors surveyed the damage done to
my nethers. I had only torn in two places. I did need stitches, but Dr. Cox and
Dr. Mayo were both impressed with how much I had not torn. They said it went
surprisingly well for a first-time mom. Right after Julia was born, Jake saw
her. He cut her cord. They showed her to me, and then took her to get cleaned
up. During this, Jake said to me, “Well, she’s pretty cute. I guess we’ll have
to keep her.” Dr. Cox looked at him and said, “Well, I’m glad you’ve decided to
commit at some point in this process.” It was pretty funny.
They brought
Julia back from the NICU. She hadn’t swallowed any meconium. Grandma Tea (Jake’s
mom) got to do her footprints, and then I was finally allowed to hold my little
girl skin-to-skin.
I wish I could say that the story ends here, that 24 hours later, I was home
with my healthy baby girl, but then that wouldn’t be what happened.
I
held her skin-to-skin for about half an hour. Then, a very reluctant nurse came
back and told me that Dr. Cox had ruled corio for this case. Basically, that
temperature I spiked earlier in labor meant I could have had an infection, and
he was saying that I did have an infection. I would need to stay in the hospital
for an additional 48 hours, and my darling little girl would have to stay as
well, but she would have to stay in the NICU.
Around 07:00
I didn’t get to see her again until they were taking
me to my recovery room down the hallway marked “Moms and Babies” or just “Mom”
in my case. I saw her, but I don’t think I held her. She had a bruise on her
hand from where they had tried to put an IV but failed because her veins were
just too small. Instead, she had an IV in on the left side of her head. I was
taken to my room where I tried to sleep. Jake had gone home to shower and change
and get a little sleep.
Around 10:00
Jake and his mom came back around 10 to give Julia
her first bath. She had to occasionally be put on oxygen when she first got
there because she would fall asleep and wouldn’t breath as much as she needed
to. The nurse said that it was mostly to bother her nose enough to remind it to
do its job.
Epilogue
Julia had her first visitors on
Sunday. My mom and sister, Becki, went to the NICU to see the very first
grandchild on my side. Jake’s Grandma Julia (Our Julia’s namesake), Uncle David,
Uncle Bryce, and brother, Drake, saw her as well. On Monday, some of Jake’s
hanai family came to see her. On Tuesday, some more of his hanai family came.
Julia and I both received antibiotics until Tuesday, December 16th. Neither
of us needed our last round (I never spiked another fever, and Julia’s cultures
came back negative, which was a huge relief because that morning, her IV had
leaked when they rinsed it, and they had to take it out. Provided her cultures
came back negative, they wouldn’t have to put a new one in; they did, so they
didn’t). Julia passed her car seat test (she needed to sit in her car seat for
an hour without anything terrible happening), which she needed to do because she
had been on oxygen, even though it was only very briefly.
Despite some
initial worry that I would be going home alone, I was discharged with my brand
new baby at 19:00 Tuesday, December 16th, 2014.
Motherhood has proved
more intense than labor, I think. But every time I think I can’t do it, I think
that I must be doing something wrong, I just remember that Heavenly Father would
not have sent this amazing little spirit down to Jake and I if he didn’t think
we could take care of her.
