I always wear the worst shoes on rainy days. I had just bought these new leopard flats to replace the other leopard flats that survived one too many storms, and of course, a monsoon rolls in right as I pull into the office park behind the hospital. There is only one parking spot, and the occupants on either side parked way too close to the line. I tried anyway. I wedged my way in, opened my car door, and the keys dropped to the ground. It was that exact moment that I realized I was way too planet-like to wedge myself out of the car--and with my keys on the ground, I couldn't back out and try again. The passenger side looked just as close and I couldn't crawl out the back because the two car seats were blocking the way. I thought about calling for help, but didn't know who to call. I managed to crawl my giant ass over to passenger side and with a lot of effort, and probably thanks to the lubrication from the rain, I managed to push myself out with only minimal damage to the Honda Pilot next to me. And now, I was ten minutes late for my appointment, my shoes were soaked, and my keys were still under my car.
The appointment was uneventful. I was approaching 42 weeks, so I had an ultrasound to make sure baby was doing alright. She moved here and there, but mostly slept. The tech commented that she had lots of little fuzzy hair and gave me two pictures that didn't look like anything to me.
Tanya, who was my centering coach with Ezra, was my midwife of the day and we hugged when she walked in. She demanded I have the baby on Saturday, because that's when she would be on call at the hospital and I gave her my word that I'd try. She checked my cervix and I measured 6cm. Before I left, I was hooked up to some monitors for a non-stress test to make sure the jackfruit was doing okay. She was. So I left with the on call schedule of the midwives and instructions to call Tanya if the baby wasn't born and I wanted an induction.
I rushed out of the office at 5:05, late for Kindermarket (pregnant ladies get in free at 5). Luckily, I was the only car in the lot, so I snatched up my keys, tossed my wet shoes under the heater, and headed up the street. It was then that I noticed the contractions. As I pulled into the lot, and had to park a football field away, the contractions were in full swing. I walked, stopping here and there to breathe, determined to get my baby some shorts before my water broke. It was crowded and the prices weren't awesome, and people seemed largely unaware that I was about to have an effing baby as they bumped into me or watched me kneel and squat over bins of baby shoes and linens. $27 later, I was out the door. I grimaced the whole way to the car and was relieved when I could finally sit.
Jason and Ezra were waiting for me with a DiGiorno pizza when I got home. Jason could instantly see that I was in pain--probably because of my heavy panting. But we were already well into Ezra's bedtime hours, so I told him I had no intentions of going into labor. He told me he was going to skip his sleeping pills, and I told him I planned on sleeping in. I took two Tylenol and a hot shower, but the contractions were still going strong when I climbed into bed. My rest was fitful and interrupted by contractions that made me moan in pain--none of which woke Jason. At 7:30, Jason brought Ezra in to say goodbye and they left for the day.
I hate watched Kelly and Michael, and texted Jason to see if he wanted to meet for lunch, before throwing in a load of laundry--all while occasionally bending over to scream in pain. When I picked him up, I said, "Okay, I don't want to worry you, but we're having a baby today." He promised he wasn't worried, but anyone who knows my husband knows that you can't tell him it's go time without him freaking out. But we went to Sonny's BBQ anyway. He commented that he couldn't enjoy his burger with me wincing and moaning like I was. We had an enjoyable lunch all the same. When we left, Jason let his coworkers know he was done for the day and we headed home. I gave Jason a list of things to gather while I washed some dishes and folded some laundry. He ran around the house, anxious and nervous. And he was still anxious and nervous as we headed to the hospital (quick pit stop at Ezra's school to drop off a car seat and his favorite book). Jason took corners way too fast and became everything he hates about Georgia drivers. We made it to the hospital in one piece and headed up to the maternity ward at about 2:30.
We checked in, however there weren't enough beds so I had to wait in the waiting room while one was cleaned. My contractions were about 2-3 minutes apart, and people stopped and stared, mortifying Jason, every time I screamed out in pain. One well meaning worker stopped in the middle of a minute long contraction to ask if I was okay. No, lady. I'm not okay. Jason successfully made me laugh by showing me videos of people flying off playground spinners propelled by motorcycles.
A bed finally became available and it was the same room where Ezra was born! My nurses were lovely and my midwife, Angela, was one I had never met. She measured my cervix and I was at 7cm. I labored on my own for a about an hour and a half while I received two bags of fluids so I could get my epidural, which arrived at 4:15. The anesthesiologist was nice and made a few jokes. He explained what would happen and all of the risks, and then he answered all of our questions. Jason held my hands as I hunched over. The numbing shots hurt a bit, and I had to get some extra when I felt the epidural needle. It only took a few minutes before he said, "Done! It practically inserted itself." I repositioned myself in the bed as he left. The nurse stayed in the room watching the monitors and taking my blood pressure while Jason read out loud from his astrology book.
Jason was laughing about something he read and started to point it out to me as the nurse hmmed. He was telling me about some potential trait Elliot would have as I asked the nurse what my blood pressure was. "70/40. Are you feeling okay?" My vision started to dull as Jason finally noticed what was happening and said, "That's a bit low, isn't it?" The nurse hovered over me and said, "Stay with me! Okay? I'm going to give you some Epinephrine," as she pressed the syringe into my IV. Jason looked worried and grabbed my hand. I started to feel panicky and nauseous. My vision came back almost instantly after the Epinephrine, but then dulled a few minutes later. More Epinephrine, a barf bag, and Zofran, while Jason put his book away and held my hand. I received Epinephrine a few more times, while my blood pressure slowly rose and the epidural kicked in fully. Soon, everyone's worry dripped away and I felt okay again. I had minimal movement in my left leg, and none in my right. I was feeling pretty great when my parents arrived. We joked and I endured political conversations way longer than I would have under any other circumstance. The nurses asked me what my birth plan was, and Jason emphatically didn't want to cut the cord, so I offered it to my mom who jumped at the idea. We waffled on whether or not my dad should be in the room, and ultimately decided that he should, because of anyone, he'd find it the most fascinating.
At 7:00, I was measuring 9cm, and was given some Pitocin and broke my water to get things going. After breaking my water, Angela informed us in her calmest voice that there was meconium in my water, which, she explained, was common enough in late term babies, however there is a concern that the baby could swallow some and create some respiratory issues, so they were going to call in a respiratory therapist, who would be present during my birth and will check the baby. Also, my mom wouldn't be allowed to cut the cord, which would cause the baby to take her first breath and possibly swallow. We had lots of questions, which she answered calmly and matter of factly. Angela came in and out of the room, but the nurse stayed and slowly upped my Pitocin. At about 9:00, Angela began camping out in the room while nurses came in and out preparing the room. My legs were propped up high in stirrups and half the bed dropped down and everyone got into position. Jason stood by my head and my mom next to him holding up one of my legs. My dad sat in a rocking chair in the corner behind my head, out of the line of sight of anything compromising and one nurse held up my other leg, while the midwife positioned herself in the middle, ready to instruct and catch.
Everything seemed dramatically different than my birth with Ezra. Everyone was calm, fewer people were in the room, and there was no pressure. Angela asked, "Do you want to push? Okay, then push." With Ezra, it was a hard count of 10 and "PUUUUUUUSH!" I started pushing at 10:00 and Jason held my hand and patted my head and told me how much he loved me. And in under 20 minutes and maybe 8 good pushes, Elliot was out! She let out a very loud cry seconds after arriving and emotions overcame me. I just birthed a baby! There were lots of tears. Jason followed her to the clear cradle where she was wiped down and the respiratory therapist gave her a look over and then left without any of us noticing ("She's fine! Bye!"). I watched from the bed as she wrapped her little hand around Jason's fingers and he smiled at her and told her how loved she is. He came back to my side as I was being stitched up and told me how lovely she was. He pointed to her in the cradle and I noticed her chubby, rolly thighs. She was quiet and compliant and lovely and I couldn't wait to hold her. Jason snapped some photos while my mom trimmed down her umbillical cord. The nurse took her to the weighing station and Jason announced to me, "8 lbs, 1 ounce! Almost exactly like Ezra!"
And soon, everyone was out of the room and it was quiet and peaceful and she stared at us and we stared at her, mesmerized by this beautiful, amazing, chubby, tomatoey baby girl.
Elliot Elizabeth Grey was born Friday, March 4th at 10:19 p.m. She weighed 8lbs, 1oz, and measured 20 inches long.
As I write this, she is 2 whole weeks old. She sleeps like a dream, has gained all of her birth weight back, plus some extra, and has such a calm, easy disposition. We already can't remember what life was like before her.
Welcome to the world, Elliot!
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