Best Laid Plans

[Warning: I recognize that delivering babies isn't the prettiest thing to think about for everyone, so if that's a story you'd rather not hear, I discourage you from reading any further.]

While I did not quite meet my own goals for reading all the books about babies I wanted to before my pregnancy came to an end, I must say I did read and prepare ALOT. I went through a handful of what feel like baby encyclopedias, a load of email newsletters from various baby websites, notes from several "preparing for baby" classes we attended. Perhaps the wisest advice I received in preparing for delivery was that you should not develop a birth plan - because you can not plan a birth, you can only put forth your desires about how you'd prefer for it to go. So, out of all of this education and conversations with friends and family who have had their own babies, I invested some well informed thoughts into developing my "birth desires" and administered this document to our parents and health professionals. Within a matter of minutes of arriving at the hospital, I was informed that several points of my birth desires were already having to be abandoned. 

We'd gone in to my OB that morning for our routine prenatal appointment, 2 days after our due date. My general mood was fairly low. My family had already been with us for several days, anxiously awaiting those contractions to become more regular. We'd all become rather obsessed with an app we'd downloaded that helped you track length and frequency of contractions - whenever I hit the start button, conversation would halt and everyone would stare at me waiting to see how long it would last. With my mother, father, and sister all surrounding me trying to do anything they could to encourage labor to move forward, it was at times entertaining [see my sister and I out on a walk, dancing to Usher being played off her iPhone, in hopes that the pumping music would excite Sofia into joining us for a dance party:] 

and at times a bit depressing that it didn't seem to be working. It felt like I was going to be pregnant forever. I went into the OB office brainstorming ways I planned to keep my parents occupied that day, I envisioned a bit of site seeing around San Diego and a trip to Chick-fil-a, more for my own sake than theirs. ;) 

Because we were post due date, they were running routine tests to check the health of the baby, an ultrasound and heart rate monitoring. We actually spent the time while her heart rate was being monitored discussing how long we were willing to put off an induction if labor just wouldn't start - I wanted to avoid pitocin if at all possible, but my parents could only be in California for a limited time, I really didn't like the idea of them having to miss her birth. But it turned out that that conversation was pointless. My doctor came in after the tests had been run to inform me that the ultrasound revealed my amniotic fluid to be cloudy, which could mean nothing other than that Sofia was sloughing off her skin, or it could mean she was pooping meconium, which would indicate she was in distress. Furthermore, her heart rate was dipping with my contractions [which I didn't even realize I was having during the heart rate monitoring], more indication that she was not doing well. My doctor was so calm in telling me that I'd need to go straight to the hospital for more monitoring, that I still didn't feel like her birth was getting any closer. But after we picked up my parents, got to the hospital, and saw documents the nurses were having me sign that said I approved the administration of pitocin to induce my labor, I realized my day was not about to turn out like I had anticipated. 

I told them I wanted to talk to a doctor before approving the pitocin, just to make sure I understood what was actually going on. You know how people claim you can do anything you put your mind to? I don't actually believe that, but apparently I can put my mind to going into labor. By the time the doctor arrived to explain to me why I needed to induce, my contractions were coming on strong and frequent enough that I'd already had to have them start my epidural. At least one birth desire was satisfied - no induction - yay! 

The doctor decided I was dilated enough and having frequent enough contractions that she could move things along even further by breaking my water. Just as we were all smiles over no-induction and getting some pain relief from the anesthesia, she broke my water only to find that it was all red with some hints of dark brown. She looked visibly concerned, as did the nurse assisting her. She explained that this probably meant that my placenta was pulling away from my uterine wall, bursting the blood vessels, and also that my baby was in distress, excreting the meconium as my OB had feared. She jumped into go-mode and explained that while my baby's heart rate was looking sufficiently strong as to not warrant our situation an emergency yet, the placenta could completely tear away at any moment, cutting off all of Sofia's blood and nutrient supply, so she strongly encouraged us to do a c-section as soon as possible. I asked if Manny and I could have a moment alone to discuss what we wanted to do. 

As kind as the doctor was to step away and give us some space, the other hospital staff members didn't seem to get the fact that Manny and I were trying to make one of the bigger decisions of our life, and they kept coming in the room trying to tell me things or hook me up to more stuff. After getting some encouragement from my mom that there was no wrong decision, we finally had a moment alone. Up until this point I [we] had managed to remain calm and move through this process as each new curve ball was thrown at us. But once we were alone, all the confusing emotions of the roller coaster day came crashing down on me as I finally faced the reality that my daughter's life was really in danger. But we had all of 60 seconds I think to let out some emotions, discuss our options, and come to the decision that it would be better to be safe than to be sorry before the doctor came in to ask if we'd made a decision (for the 2nd or 3rd time actually). 

As soon as we gave the word, it seemed like everything flew into warp speed as they wheeled me into the operating room, yelling at Manny that he better grab his camera as he rushed to keep up with my hospital bed. As I lay behind that sheet, Manny grabbed my hand, and I whispered a request to him that he pray for us while they started the procedure. He prayed the whole way through (one of the longer 5 minute periods of my life) until my anesthesiologist, Dr. Said, caught his attention saying, "Papa, you're going to want to get a photo of this." Dr. Said hurriedly handed Manny our camera, Manny stood up for a brief moment and clicked:

She made it. As I was breathing a deep sigh of relief, the doctor confirmed that indeed my placenta had pulled about 30% away from the uterine wall, we had definitely made the right decision to get her out right away. But no sooner was I relieved, and they had Manny over by Sofia while they evaluated her, than I heard my baby's first cries, much more gurgly than I'd anticipated. Because she had been swallowing this bad amniotic fluid, her trachea was clogged and her oxygen levels were low. All alone on the operating table, feeling this continued numb tug and pull on my belly, with my husband far across the room, I listened to that cry as nurses and doctors kept promising me I would get to see her in just one minute. The one minute turned into 5, my anesthesia started to make me feel like I was freezing cold and I started to shiver uncontrollably. 5 minutes turned into I don't even know how long, and I used all my psychological strength to use my breathing and relaxation techniques to stay calm. Dr. Said, dear sweet man, stayed close by, covering me with extra blankets, doing his best to encourage me and keep me updated on what was going on with my baby. I kept hearing nurses call out about how beautiful she was, that she had the most amazing eye lashes. Over and over about the eye lashes, it started to make me a bit angry - I didn't care about her eye lashes, I wanted to see and hold her for myself and know that she could breath okay. But the promise of getting to hold her so soon was dashed as they rushed her past me, shoved her face in my face to make me kiss her, then ran her off to the nursery to try to help her breathing. Commence the worst hour or so of my life. Without any real update on her condition, Manny off with Sofia [by my request - I didn't want Sofia to be all alone], the shivering getting worse, they sealed up my incision and moved me back into my recovery room, which felt like the loneliest place I'd ever been. Manny, my parents, Manny's parents were all getting to oggle at Sofia through the nursery glass and I still hadn't really laid my eyes on her. But, fairly soon, my mom sacrificed the opportunity to take in the site of her first grandchild in order to mother me in perhaps the most powerful way she ever has in my memory. In my hour of profound fear and need, she alone was with me in that room, stroking my hair, massaging my shoulders which were painfully clenched from the shivering, telling me how beautiful my daughter was, that we'd made the right decision, that Sofia was going to be ok. I finally let myself really cry.

About an hour and forty-five minutes after she was born, (so much for one minute, right?) they finally wheeled Sofia into my room for me to meet her. She was crying, I was crying, but she instantly latched on to me and began to feed. She immediately quieted and calmed down, my shivering instantly ceased, and I felt the most beautiful joy I've ever known. I finally believed we might all be ok. As soon as she finished, Manny got to hold her too, and the site of him across the room with our daughter in our arms was one of the most comforting things I had ever seen:

In the next few days in the hospital, we faced a few more challenges. Because of the problem with the placenta, the cord blood collection ended up being insufficient for the donation I'd put so much work into - argh; her weight dipped a bit low for the nurses' comfort, my shoulders wouldn't unclench from all the shivering for several days, and she had some jaundice. But we were able to leave the hospital ahead of schedule, her jaundice cleared up in a day or two, she was back to birth weight by day 6, and all in all, things have gotten increasingly better ever since.  

I had to give up my vision of laboring for the first several hours at home, watching Date Night, eating a baked potato with Goode Co. BBQ brisket, taking a long soaky bath, applying all the breathing techniques Manny and I had practiced, having all our parents with us at the hospital waiting for Manny to come out to announce she'd been born, avoiding a C-section, holding and nursing her the moment after she was born, etc. etc. etc. But that's why they are birth desires, not plans, right? As my cousin Robin told me at my baby shower, what really matters is that you get a healthy baby at the end, everything else is just details. Am

Below is a picture version of Sofia's journey into the world. 

Click here to view this photo book larger