That sounds soooo cheesy, but we could think all day and not find a better way to say what we feel. We are so full of joy at the results of the things which proceeded during the last 72 hours. They certainly did not go as planned, but they progressed with a peace that is indescribable.
On Wednesday I started having contractions, although they were very irregular. By the end of the day we were a little disappointed to be going to bed as usual. By 5 in the morning on Thursday the contractions seemed like they were finally in a rhythm, so I started timing them. They averaged 50 seconds long at 8 minutes apart for the next several hours. So we got cpc over to the H family's house, notified Grams she could go ahead and catch a flight, and pmc spent the rest of the day being the BEST labor coach I could have asked for. Throughout the day my contractions remained rhythmic, but I would go back and forth from having them long and close together, to shorter and more spread out. By 4pm we just couldn't figure out what my body was doing so we called the doctor's office. They decided it was best that I just go ahead and get checked at the hospital......because 11 hours of solid labor was clearly something.
Well, at the hospital I was diagnosed as 2 cm dilated, 100% effaced and a -2 station, but not in "active labor" because my contractions were not causing rapid enough dilation. Most of me was relieved to be told I could just go home, because I was NOT pleased by the nurse and the midwife on call. Pmc gave me a blessing before we left the hospital, and 4 hours after getting there we finally left to go home in a pretty bad snowstorm. We recouped a bit, ate some dinner, and pmc continued to coach me through contractions like a pro. But soon thereafter my body switched gears again and my contractions averaged 90 seconds at 3 1/2 minutes apart. After over an hour of this we decided I must be making some progress and headed back to the hospital around 2am, minutes before Grams arrived at our house.
At the hospital we were faced with mostly the same story, although pmc kept sticking up for me. We just wanted the nurses to understand that I needed to get settled somewhere so my body didn't have to keep adjusting to the surroundings. I was 3 cm now, and even though the nurses seemed grim, somehow someone was finally convinced and decided to admit me. By 4am I realized that I was approaching 24 hours, and was frustrated with my lack of progress, and the fact that my midwife was apparently not on call all weekend. We decided to ask the nurse what pain relief options she thought my midwife might suggest at that point. The nurse cheerfully suggested that she would likely give some Demarol to take off the edge so I could get some rest and get back to work with the contractions in a few hours. She also pointed out that although the midwife was not on-call, there was a chance that Friday was her regular day and would be in around 8am. So with high hopes of more support, I got the Demarol and fell asleep. By 8am I was re-energized and breathing through contractions like a champ again! My midwife DID arrive, and I felt like everything was going to progress just fine. Everyone kept reminding me we'd have a baby by the end of the day, so my spirits were up and I nearly forgot I'd been in labor so long! Pmc felt the same way.
However as the afternoon started to progress I was getting worn out again, and the contractions were becoming so painful I was not coping well. Around 3pm my midwife checked my cervix again and I was still only 5-6cm, 95% effaced, and -2 station. I got in the shower again and the contractions simply became too much for me to bear. I started yelling at people, and expressing that I just couldn't do this anymore. Inside I felt like something must be wrong. Pmc and the midwife assistant kept trying to coach me through contractions, but I just started getting mad at them. But my midwife came in and said either I must be transitioning, or something was wrong.
So I got out and they checked me again, but my cervix had still made no progress. Well, my midwife was the wise one to figure out that my dermoid cyst was in the way and preventing the baby's head from coming down into the birth canal. So they tried breaking my waters and having me push to see if I could push his head over the cyst. At this point, my cyst became hardened and it was clear that it was twisting on the fallopian tube and causing excessive pain. I was now yelling at everyone! But the worst part was that this is when the baby's heart rate dropped drastically, to around 70bpm. It took a few minutes to determine that yes, in fact, that was his heart rate and not mine. My doctor, who had joined this circus at some point unknown to me, leaned over me and said "we're going to have to do a c-section." I think everyone in the room was surprised when I happily responded with "okay." I think I had already felt this coming back in the shower, and had felt peace about it. I knew I was in good hands. I only had a momentary lapse right before they took me to the operating room where I asked if it was my fault, wondering if I had given up or if the pain wasn't really as bad as I was thinking it was.
Pmc on the other hand (who is now at work, and I am going to try to write the things he told me for him) had thought as I got out of the shower that I was giving up. I had never expressed to him my sense that something was wrong, and so he was worried that I would later feel I had given up. As he was given scrubs to change into, he felt so many different things - worry, fear, sadness, but overriding them all was loneliness.
Things were pretty simple after that. I was rushed off to the operating room, this time in a much more "emergency" fashion that my first c-section. The danger was real this time and we could feel it. They started cutting into my belly before pmc had even come into the room. I was worried about him and kept asking for him. When he finally came in, they wouldn't even let him watch at first. They pulled out the baby seconds later, and let pmc stand and start snapping pictures. Things were pretty chaotic. At first I didn't hear cdc cry, and started to worry. But once they cut the umbilical cord he cried and I knew he was going to be just fine. They removed my cyst (and my right ovary) and I kept hearing "no wonder that baby couldn't get down into the birth canal." As the doctors did their thing inside my body, pmc came over and talked with me. He looked so worried about me, so I reassured him about how I knew this was okay and felt peace....and suddenly I could see the peace wash over him like a wave. Then the joy of having another child finally hit us both! We had our little cdc, and everything was okay.
Pmc attended to cdc with the doctor's while I begged for warm blankets to help me to stop shivering. I liked this c-section much more than the first, because I didn't feel pain as they were putting me all back together and sewing me up. I still don't know the whole story because I haven't met with my doctor again yet, but apparently they had to remove a bunch of scar tissue from the first c-section or something. They checked, and there was no cyst on my other ovary!
Finally they took off all the surgery paraphernalia and took me into the recovery room to see my baby. Cdc was doing some grunting, so they had him under the heat lamp. I kept asking for him to come to my chest, and the nurses seemed to think it was more important to keep him under the lamp. Finally my midwife came in and said it would be good for him to come to my chest, so the nurses submitted. Immediately he found my breast and started eating, and his grunting went right away!
As Pmc sat there with our new son, we discussed the peace we both felt. We were so grateful to have had the experience of "natural labor," even though it didn't end the way we hoped. We learned so much! I learned that I like natural labor MUCH more than with an epidural, even if it was for 35 hours. If it ends without a c-section I'd do it again over and over. Why you ask? Well...for one, I'm being completely honest when I say I had LESS pain than during my first labor. On top of that, it felt good knowing that my body and my baby's body were not getting a huge dose of drugs for hours at a time. I also really liked feeling like I knew what was going on in my body the whole time. We were also so grateful that we had the best doctor and midwife we could have asked for. We had so much confidence that they had tried their very hardest to get this baby here without needing to cut me open, but also that they really knew when a c-section was medically necessary. Which leads to my final point.....and that is that we are so grateful to have had medical technology available to us when it was so clear that we really needed it. Cdc and I are both here, safe and healthy, because of this c-section. I do not think either one of us would still be here without it. I am grateful for the peace my Heavenly Father has given to our family, and the blessing of life. I am filled with joy just thinking about our little family of four.
So, to give the final details: Cdc was 7 lbs. 9 oz. and 21 inches long (that is the same length that cpc was, but a pound less!). He was born January 29, 2010 at 4:21pm. He is a sweet, skinny, cuddly newborn with BLONDE BLONDE hair and eyelashes. He has my forehead wrinkles, no widow's peak, and fontanelle's on his skull that really stand out (in fact they're even still separated on his forehead!). He has big feet and hands, but not necessarily long fingers & toes. He has a little mouth and a sweet, quiet cry. We are SO pleased to have him in our family! Cdc is named after our mission president and my paternal grandfather, two people we admire and respect and love so much.
I am recovering very well, just like the first time. I am so grateful to have Grams here, who has taken such good care of our whole family. We will be so sad to see her go on Thursday!
And I think the only details we have left to share for now are.....PICTURES!!!!!
