Myra's Grand Entry

Usually Ben and I have oodles of time after the baby is born, sitting at the hospital while the baby is under the phototherapy lights.  This time, however **spoiler alert** she came home with me from the hospital!  So we've been home, enjoying our new little girl instead of blogging about her.  Sorry.

Usually Ben writes the birth stories, but he's pretty busy and since this feels like my own personal miracle, I am glad to document it.  Read on, if you like these kinds of stories. . .

We checked into the OB/GYN triage at the hospital at 8:00 on Thursday night, my doctor was on call that night and she thought it might be convenient to just do it while she was already there.  We thought it would be convenient to do it after the kids went to bed (and our great neighbor just came over to spend the night).  They wouldn't even know we were gone.  Unfortunately, the triage was totally booked.  We ended up in the waiting room for 3 hours until there was a bed free.  (Side note:  Did you know that, at least at this hospital, any sort of emergency involving a pregnant woman goes to the OB/GYN triage?  Sprained ankles, car crashes, hemrrhoids--my poor triage-neighbor. . .) Then the doctor came in and said that since they were so busy, we'd have to wait until 6:00 in the morning, right before she went off of call.  But I had a book, and Ben was supposed to be on call on a different floor that night anyway, so he went and joined his team and I tried to get comfortable flat on my back with two obtrusive monitors on my belly.  Also, they started an IV of fluids.  Hard to be comfortable when your ever shrinking bladder is being intravenously filled.

But the night passed.  My biggest fear with this birth (besides death) was that the medications would knock me out the same way they did with Eva.  Ben mentioned some "moderate shaking" in his report of Eva's birth, but I would call it 4 hours of violent, uncontrollable shaking.  Also, during Eva's birth, I couldn't keep my eyes open, couldn't breathe well, and was panicky.  It was horrible.  So I talked to the anesthesiologist about my concerns and she determined to just give me a spinal block (one shot, not an epidural line) and no more medicine than I needed.  It was perfect.  I was comfortable, warm and alert.  They even took care of a little nausea that crept up with a well-timed shot into my IV.

The doctors had already started the cauterizing and cutting before Ben came in, and they kept getting mad at him for peeking over the curtain.  He had just come from the Orthopedic trauma OR, where he was amputating legs or reconstructing pelvises and he asked "what, are you afraid I'm going to pass out or something?"  She didn't really have a good answer.  But they did let him look over the curtain when the baby came out--so that was nice.

I always get emotional when I hear them cry for the first time.  It's like a sudden realization that I haven't been growing some mythical creature in my belly--but a real, functioning human baby.  It's like I don't even believe they are real until I hear their primal response to the bright lights, loud noises and tremendous discomfort that first breath must cause.  I love their cries.

They brought her over to let me look at her before they had even cleaned her up.  Honestly, it was a little gross.  She was purple and white and had the cord hanging off of her.  Then they cleaned her all up, wrapped her in a blanket and brought her back over.  That was better for me.  She was tiny and beautiful.

As the doctor was stitching me up, I asked her the state of my uterus (repeat c-sections are often limited to 3 because the uterus gets too thin) and she said, "I've never seen a thinner uterus in my life.  When we opened you up, I could see the baby through the tissue.  In fact, when Dr. Parker put the scalpel to your uterus, it just opened up beneath it--she didn't even have to cut."  That made me think that three was the lucky number for us, but she said later that it sewed back together just fine and she wouldn't tell me that I can't have another baby, but that I should definitely wait a year.  That shouldn't be a problem.

So that begins the miracles: a somewhat elective c-section at 37 weeks because the baby wasn't growing well--turns out, if the baby grew any bigger, or if we had waited any longer, there could have been serious trouble with rupture.  How she survived that car crash is another story I would like to hear when I get to heaven
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The rest of the miracles have been just so peaceful: she got to stay in my room.  I kept thinking that they would come and take her away for having feeding problems (but she is a great little eater), or weight problems (she was only 5 lbs 5 oz, and down to 5 lbs 1 oz when we left the hospital--but back up to 5 lbs 7 oz as of Friday), or jaundice (Clark and Eva were both terribly jaundiced because Ben and I have blood types that don't match very well.  Word to the single folks: blood type compatibility) but her jaundice levels were pretty normal.  She didn't even have to go under the lights.

I loved having her in my room.  Seems like a small thing, but when you hear all the babies crying in rooms surrounding yours and your baby is far away and not supposed to be disturbed except for a few minutes every 3 hours, it kind of tears your heart.  

She got to come home with me two days after she was born, which was also wonderful, and has made the whole experience so much less chaotic.  We came home together, Clark and Eva can't get enough of her.  Neither can I.  Or Ben.  Or Grandma.

Having my mom here has been another miracle--she just takes care of everything and loves the kids and treats us so well.  She even takes the baby in the night when I want to sleep.  She is an angel.

And my recovery has been another miracle.  I felt like I could probably breakdance the day I left the hospital.  Never mind my total lack of rhythm.  I was just stitched up so tightly and nicely that it didn't ever really hurt.  I kept wondering when the pain would kick in, but so far it hasn't been bad.  I definitely needed the Vicodin in the hospital, but haven't needed more than Motrin since coming home.  That might have something to do with all the nerve endings being killed when they did the surgery, but as long as the wounds heal before the feeling comes back, I think it's a pretty sweet deal. 

So we are feeling extra blessed and grateful for this new little soul joining our family.

And also, she looks exactly like Clark did. (Myra above, Clark below).  We are excited to see Clarky's cute face on a girl.