We're so happy with our little darling girl and she seems pretty happy to be with us as well. She loves to snuggle and we could spend hours rocking her to sleep and smelling that intoxicating newborn smell. It's a state of bliss we haven't known before.
Of course, getting her here was no easy task. For those interested, here's our story:
At eleven days late, I was preparing for a doctor appointment the next morning where we'd discuss induction and pick a date. I felt pretty lousy those last days, unable to move much and not eating or sleeping well, and crying every other day out of sheer frustration.
I was grateful when the contractions started that Monday night; I busied myself cleaning, finishing packing for the hospital, and giving myself a manicure and pedicure. I labored through the night, unable to comfortably sit down. Lying down was out of the question, too, so I paced around and attempted to pay attention to a movie. After eight hours of timing contractions we called the hospital and headed over. The contractions were quickly growing more frequent and more painful, so it was disappointing to discover that after all those hours I was only a centimeter dilated.
Several hours later in the hospital...same thing. One centimeter. So while I wasn't eager to start a pitocin drip, I took the doctor's advice and did it. I'd heard from others that pitocin really got things moving, but for me, labor still dragged on. Oh, it grew more painful, enough so that they gave me fentanyl twice. I didn't ask for the drugs but was grateful for the temporary relief and even slept a bit. The day was marked by small horrors like vomiting from pain, having my water forcibly broken by a hook, and the placement of an intrauterine catheter to better measure contractions, a regular catheter, and difficulty getting an IV started because my veins wouldn't cooperate. None of these things were fun. Sometime after the second dose of fentanyl wore off I asked for an epidural. The pain was so intense that I was shaking like a leaf. The anesthesiologist, Dr. Taylor, moved quickly and became my instant BFF.
The day moved in a blur as we watched the dilation progress very slowly. My lower body was completely numb and the nurses turned me from side to side every so often, putting me on oxygen each time Violet's heart rate dropped. She did not like when I laid on my right side. Eventually the epidural wore off and they ramped it up again as the blinding pain returned. The nurses were baffled as the pain wasn't progressing down the uterus the way it should have, but remained firmly and horribly at the top. After more than 25 hours of labor the doctor mentioned that the baby was sitting in my pelvis with a cone-shaped head and that it might be time to consider a c-section. The baby was a little champ throughout the day and showed no distress. It felt right to go into surgery before it became an emergency.
I was scared and Chris was scared. He texted our families to let them know the new plan and both of my parents called, trying to hide the concern in their voices. I was ready to just get it done and within 30 minutes I was prepped and on the operating table, a team of eight people swarming around, comforting me, counting instruments out loud, and buzzing around under the bright lights.
Chris and I were separated for 20 minutes and I was grateful when he came in with scrubs on and stood by my side. I should mention that Dr. Taylor stayed by my side the whole time, too, talking to me and telling me when the surgery had started. I couldn't feel much, but sensed movement and shifting in my body. I begged Chris not to look at my guts out on the table, but he did anyway. Only a few minutes went by before Dr. Taylor leaned in and said, "Get ready." I felt a heavy weight that constricted my breathing for a moment followed by the sensation of a weight being lifted out of me.
And then...a piercing cry that caused the whole room to jump! Everyone remarked that she didn't want to leave my body so I guess she was holding on tight. Her loud cries produced real tears, which newborns typically don't have. Her extra days in the womb caused her to be advanced in some areas, like the crying. Chris and I cried a few real tears, too, and it was a wonderful, overwhelming moment.
She stuck her fingers in her mouth and sucked away; no problem with latching for this kid. I remained on the table while they put me back together and Chris stood by Violet as they bathed and weighed her. I should note that when they pulled her out I heard a chorus of, "Wow, she's big!" and "What a BIG baby!" She was 9 pounds, 8 ounces, slightly smaller than Chris' own birth weight. Had we known her size, we would have went right for the c-section and skipped all the drama.
Delivering at Seton Southwest was the best decision we could have made. We had a huge room to ourselves and were quite comfortable there. The staff was so loving and we bonded with many of our nurses, who were so genuinely loving to little Violet. Perks included pretty good food, a beautiful hand-knitted blanket made by volunteers, a post delivery massage, and full access to a kitchen, wifi, and middle-of-the-night baby sitters so we could get some sleep.
We felt so cared for all week and it was a nice place to heal and just dote on our baby.
We were ready to head home Friday afternoon when they let us go. My incision was healing well and I never even bruised. I stopped the pain medication and switched to regular ole' Tylenol because I felt pretty good. Violet had some jaundice but regular feedings and some supplementing allowed her to put on the weight she needed to gain back and knock out the jaundice without any light therapy.
I shouldn't even brag about this because maybe it'll jinx it, but Violet sleeps through the night. I think that's gone a long way to helping me heal quicker. Not to mention she smiles a lot and is easy to calm by just feeding or snuggling her. She likes to be swaddled and self soothes with a pacifier. She doesn't cry when she wakes up in the morning, but just coos and gurgles in her bassinet until I scoop her up. And when she does cry, it goes from zero to exorcist in one second flat. Sometimes it reaches another level that I've dubbed Baby Ringwraith.
My mom's been with us for two weeks, which is time we've all treasured. My friend Mary Helen organized a meal train and we've had friends stopping by around the clock dropping off delicious dinners and well wishes for Violet. It's truly been a magical time and we are so grateful.