On Alissa's birth...

So I said I would come back and post about Alissa's birth.  Here goes:

The last few months of my pregnancy were quite stressful.  On the day of my one year wedding anniversary, I had my only job interview of the summer.  I was obviously quite pregnant, and in fact, they asked me if this was going to be my first child.  Not a typical interview question.  I was quite nervous, I felt like my pregnancy and the fact that I would miss a good portion of the school year was the, ahem, elephant in the room.  I felt as large as an elephant.  Needless to say, I did not get the job.

Matt and I still had a lot of fun last summer.  None of our typical summer activities, like kayaking, but we did manage to make it to a few Indians games (for free, woo-hoo!) and got to the park a few times.

On August 22, I had just settled in at my computer, finished breakfast, when the phone rang.  It was Matt, telling me that he had been in a car accident.  His car had rolled over, he was on the roof (ceiling) of the car. I hadn't even showered, but I threw on a maternity dress and ran out the door, driving to the scene of the accident.  Thankfully, he was ok, but it was rough seeing him on a stretcher, seeing the car, the ambulance.  Thankfully, I did not go into pre-term labor, but aside from the day I lost my job, it was the most stressful day of my pregnancy.

We continued to do trivia every Tuesday with our friends Rob and Erica, despite the venue changing from Great Lakes Brewery to Harry Buffalo in Parma.  Two weeks before Alissa was born, we met up again at Great Lakes - it was our last meal there in a very long time.  It was a nice late-summer evening, and we ate outside on the patio.  Beautiful.

One week before Alissa was born, thanks to Matt's work we were able to watch the Indians from inside the Owner's Suite at Progressive Field.  Middle of the ballpark.  Two nice sized bathrooms.  A dessert cart that arrived mid-game.  Lots of tasty, healthy food.  A pregnant Indians fan's dream.  We lost the game, but Matt and I stayed til the bitter end.  Apparently, according to the lady in charge of the suite, Mr. Dolan had quipped that if I gave birth while at the game, it would mean they could add one more to the attendance total for the day.

As my due date approached, I was getting more and more miserable.  I felt so hippo-gigantic.  I wanted to see my baby girl.  The Saturday before, it was a pretty, sunny, early autumn day, and so we headed down to the Cuyahoga Valley National Park.  But once we got there, to Virginia Kendall, it started to rain.  This will pass, we said, and we waited in the little stone pavilion for the rain to stop.  And we waited.  And waited.  I had come all that way to "Walk this baby out of me" and Walk I was going to do.  So we walked, and slipped, and ran through the rain through the downpours and around the pond.  We were soaked as we headed home - it was then that we saw the sun re-emerge.

The next day, my body began to show signs that labor was near (but I'll spare the details).

On Monday night, I read Matt trivia questions like we had gotten used to doing.  I'm pretty sure we watched Jeopardy.

If I had known Tuesday would be the day, I may have slept a bit longer.  Taken another nap.

Tuesday, September 26 was my due date.  When I woke up that morning, I thought, oh, no baby yet.  But maybe still today.  The afternoon came. I had lunch as usual, but then started to have stomach cramps sometime in the afternoon, felt a little nauseous.  Talked to my mom around 4pm, and said, nope, no baby.  Matt called around 5pm as he was leaving work, and I told him the same,"Nope, no Baby."  At some point along the pregnancy, we had nicknamed our baby Princess Buttercup.  September 26 was the 25th Anniversary of the Princess Bride, so it would have been a fitting day for her to be born.  I kept telling her she could come out now.  At 4:45pm, I had finally started to pack a bag for the hospital, you know, just in case.

At 5:15pm I thought about taking a short nap before Matt got home.  Then I felt crampy again and headed to the bathroom.  It was then that I saw blood. I must have sat on that toilet a long time, because I only stood up because I heard the garage door open.  I waddled over to the door to greet my husband, but instead of my normal smile, I must have had a look of terrible worry on my face.  I told him I was bleeding.  I decided to call the doctor.  If it had been an hour earlier, I could have spoken to the doctor's office, but instead I had to leave a message with the after-hours line.  I think I then called my mother to let her know what was up.  Then the after-hours doctor called me back, listened to my explanations, and told me to head to Labor and Delivery just to be sure.  Labor and Delivery.  Labor and Delivery.

We had plans that evening to have Rob and Erica over to play games and have Melt, so I texted or called Rob to cancel.  I mentioned to Matt that I had packed bags and he grabbed them from upstairs.  He didn't have time to really grab anything.  I know I was thinking either something was seriously wrong or else it was nothing, but I honestly did not think I was in labor.

Traffic was rush hour. It seemed to take forever to get to the hospital. The bleeding continued.  Matt dropped me off and went to park the car.  Some nice police officers at the entrance to the hospital got me a wheelchair.  Matt found me, and wheeled me to the maternity section.  We waited for a few minutes, and finally they got me into Triage room #7.  There, I changed into a hospital gown, and the nurse began to hook things to me and ask me about my symptoms.  Then she laughed at me and said, "Honey, those aren't cramps.  You're in labor."  Lol.  she asked if we had taken the childbirth classes (we had), but since my doctor had described contractions as different from what I've ever felt, and that I'd "KNOW" I was in labor, I did not think at all that this was the case.  Oh, trust me, in a few hours, they would definitely feel... much different from my earlier cramps.

A doctor checked me out, I was only a couple inches dilated - not too much different from my last OB appointment.  I was disappointed.  But I was in labor - my contractions were 3 minutes apart and steady!  He debated whether to send me back home but decided to let me stay.  I'm glad he did.  I think I had a Popsicle for dinner that night but I'm not entirely sure, I thought I was allowed something.  We were in the triage room til around midnight, waiting for a labor room to open up.  My brother came by, which was nice, to have someone else to talk to, share stories, etc.

My labor room was nice and big.  Matt had a couch to sleep on.  My mom called a few times to check in and see if she should come.  They told me to try and sleep, but that proved difficult as the contractions got more and more painful.  The belt they had me wear kept slipping, and I swear the way it monitored me wasn't accurate.  There were also a lot of noisy, gossipy nurses in the room.  At some point, maybe around 2, I felt more wet than before, and a nurse or doctor came by and confirmed that my water had broke.  Pain intensified.  My baby's heart rate was rather elevated.  I began to beg for an epidural.  That took 3 hours to get. I was so happy to get it.  I was 4cm dilated, and felt a lot better since I was now in "active labor".  I could do this.

At some point in the morning, my mom came by.  My dad had gone into work, thinking it would be hours before my baby was born.  Dr. Rao came in, around 8:30 or so, and told me he wasn't happy with how things were progressing.  Baby's heart rate was still elevated.  My temperature was up and my oxygen levels down.  I think he tried giving me a breathing mask.  He told me he would give it another hour and see if things improved, and then we would have a serious talk about a c-section.  My mother, having had 3 c-sections of her own, told him to just cut me open. Kinda shocked the doctor, but I was not surprised, lol.

15 minutes went by.  Then Dr. came back in and had made up his mind.  C-section it would be.  They upped the epidural and moved me to the surgery room.  Matt got dressed in scrubs.  The time when I was in the room before Matt arrived was torture.  I am pretty sure I was screaming and crying and begging them not to cut me open.  I knew it was best for my baby and for my own health, but I was absolutely terrified.  I remember the curtain in front of me.  I remember them doing something and asking if I felt it.  No (thank god).  I could feel that I was being cut open, but no pain.  I was worried about my baby girl.  I was shaking, shaking, shivering so much I thought I would die.  I was so cold.

At 9:27am on 9/26/12, they took my baby out of me.  Princess Buttercup was born.  I wanted to know she was alright. I held my breath, unable to see her, waiting to hear her cry.  Then I heard her.  The rush of relief. They must have shown her to Matt, but then took her to a table, behind me and to the right.  I wanted to know she was breathing, what her Apgar score was.  (It was an 8 both times).  Matt did get to hold her, but because they were afraid of infection, they took her away to the NICU.  They stitched me up.  They took me back to my labor room for a few hours to recover.  Back in that room, Matt and I finally had a moment to ourselves to discuss our name.  She would be Alissa (with an I) Grace.

Back in the labor room, I got what I declare the Best sponge bath ever.  By then my dad had shown up with my mother-in-law.  I think they took turns coming in to see me.  At some point they all left to get lunch.  I wanted to rest, but every time I began to sleep, my oxygen dipped and the monitor would beep and I'd have to stay awake to focus on breathing in and out.

My parents, MIL, and Matt got to see Alissa up in the NICU.  They took pictures to bring down and show me.  She looked so big in the picture, but she was only 7lb. 7oz.  She was beautiful.

At some point in the afternoon, they wheeled me up to see her.  She had to spend 48 hours in NICU as a precaution.  I could barely reach up to touch her as she slept.  I wanted to hold her, to feed her, to hug her and never let her go.  Oh, but the wires.

I had finally been moved to a proper recovery room, a nice double room where Matt could sleep on the other bed.  I think around 6pm or so I was given the ok to have a liquid meal.  Which actually meant jello and lemon ice.  Delicious.  Best lemon ice ever.

Later that evening, I finally got to hold my baby girl.  I was so nervous, with all her cords and the beeps of the machines.  I was afraid of hurting her, of breaking her.  She was so precious.  But I had to head back to do my own recovery.  I barely slept that night, between my vitals being monitored, my legs sweating from those things they put on to avoid clots, the IV being switched, etc.  In the morning I was finally able to go visit and feed Alissa for the first time.  It was quite difficult, but the lactation consultant was wonderful.  The NICU nurses were so wonderful, especially Julie, who helped so much in my difficulty nursing at first and sharing her own c-section and NICU stories.  Truly an angel.

Thursday morning I was so delighted to be given the ok for solid food for breakfast.  Cartwheels in my mind and tummy.  The hospital food was really quite delicious, I highly recommend Hillcrest's food.  The vegetable lasagna is especially tasty.  I had two lovely displays of flowers delivered, which perked the room up - the one woman delivering food smelled the lilies every time.  At some point I was allowed to shower for the first time.  How awesome was that?

Every two hours I went to nurse Alissa.  On Thursday night, they told me I was going to be getting a roommate, but I fought that (and won, at least temporarily).  I wanted/needed Matt there with me.  I needed to keep getting up and going to feed my baby.  Oh, the long walks with the wheelchair (using it for support) down the hallway... seemed to last forever.  The sanitizing station.  The walk into the NICU and over to her room.  Seeing her, holding her, feeding her.

Friday morning I was told at some point that I should not come to feed Alissa, but that she would be coming to join me.  It was around the same time she came to our room (finally), my friend Amie came to visit.  I had not seen her since my wedding, but it just so happened she was visiting from Florida.  How awesome to see her!  But then she left, and Matt went home to shower/get clothes, etc.  I tried to nurse Alissa, but she just fed, and fed, and fed, or so I thought.  Milk wasn't in yet, I guess she was what the nurse called it, "sleep sucking", just using me as a pacifier.  Precious, but exhausting.  That evening my brother and sister-in-law came to visit, but I had more nursing difficulty.  Breastfeeding is really hard, especially trying to get that latch correct early on.

I was so happy to have Alissa in our room finally.  But then they took her out to check vitals and didn't bring her back for hours.  Apparently, I was supposed to rest during that time, but I didn't know that. I was awake worrying about whether something was wrong or not, especially since it took so long.  I remember being so eager to walk that I got myself water in the middle of the night.  Oh, the popsicles, the pudding snacks, the crackers, the pitcher of water.  So many simple comforts.

Saturday morning we were told that we would be finally getting a roommate for me.  This cut the room in half, actually less than half, as part of my half was now curtained off as a walkway for the other people.  I could no longer see my flowers.  Matt could no longer stay the night.  We decided it would be better to just go home.  Finally got some pictures of Alissa taken.  Got the Doctor's ok for release.  We took our time leaving, so as not to rush things.  Alissa's first car ride.  Stopped at Walgreens for my prescriptions.  Matt had called me about something, but my phone was in the trunk, and in trying to get out of the car, I set the alarm off.  Whoops.

It was a beautiful sunny fall day when we brought her home.  Matt took a picture of her on the front stoop, as if she had been left, lol, by the stork.  The first few nights were quite difficult. But one my milk (finally) came in, things got a lot better.  We delighted in counting wet diapers and poops.  We were excited when her weight rose so quickly between Monday and Wednesday.  We had fun watching old tv episodes and sleeping when we could.  We took a few walks with the stroller.

Ah, my baby girl is almost 6 months now.  My how time flies...