In the late evening hours of April 5, my 2nd daughter made her debut in this world. She was a healthy weight and height and the birth itself was healthy and, might I say, relatively easy. But the 36 hours leading up to that moment made me think that perhaps it was not going to end up that way.The previous Friday, I went in for my weekly check-up. Everything was good - my weight, my blood pressure, etc. Baby's heartbeat was healthy. Just for good measure, the doc decided to bring in a portable ultrasound machine and confirmed that baby was head down, right where she needed to be. Since baby wasn't particularly making any indication of an immediate arrival, my doctor said to schedule an official ultrasound at my next appointment.
So I came back on Thursday, April 4 for the ultrasound. It was 2 days before my due date and they just wanted to make sure baby was still healthy. And she was. She was estimated to be a whopping 9 pounds, 1 ounce. We didn't freak out too much at this because our firstborn was estimated at 9.5 lbs at her ultrasound and a follow up one the next week even said 10 lbs but when she was born 2 days later, she was only 8 lbs and 4 oz. But they got that estimate based on her head circumference which was proportionally the head of a 10 lb baby. (My in-laws have big heads!) However, I did notice that this technician took multiple measurements in addition to the head circumference, like length of the femur or something and the average of those measurements estimated my baby girl at 9lb 1oz.
But that wasn't the scariest part of the appointment. The very first thing the technician pointed out (because honestly I have no idea what's on those screens until they point it out) was that my daughter was now completely turned upside down. Well, I guess I should say downside up cause upside down would have been ideal. Instead of her head being down like it was supposed to be (and like it was the previous week), it was now UP near my chest. She was basically sitting up. I had heard the term "breech" enough to know this is not good.
We took this information upstairs to my doctor and found out just how NOT good this was. Basically the complications of giving birth to a baby in this position are so severe that doctors do not even attempt it if they are aware of it (which now my doctor was). She even did another portable ultrasound just to make sure that baby's head was in fact up because she just couldn't believe she had turned so quickly. Usually, babies turn breech when there's plenty of room to do so. It's unusual for a baby who was in the right position to turn breech after week 37 or so simply because they do not have the room to perform such gymnastics. So doctors have time to try various techniques to get the baby to move back. But my due date was in 2 days and my baby was estimated at 9lbs. She was too big and there just simply wasn't the space to try to move her. So given the high risk of complications and the low chance of her moving into a healthy position, the doctor convinced us that having a C section was the best option. We talked in her office for a long time about all the pros and cons and what to expect and then left her office with an appointment for a scheduled C section the next day.
We then met some friends for a park date where I got to enjoy time with my toddler as well as talk through the decision we had just made. Then I went home and attacked all the things still left on my pre-baby to-do list while also looking up everything I could about C sections. I even called a friend who had 2 of them and asked her to talk me through the process. By the time I went in the next morning, I was well informed and completely on board. Frankly, I was kind of looking forward to knowing that by the afternoon, I'd have a baby in my arms and I wouldn't have to spend my day dealing with contractions and all that.
To appease me the day before, the doctor told me she would make sure they gave me a "scan" (another quick ultrasound) to make sure baby was still breech. Since she had most likely flipped to breech Wednesday night, there was a small chance she'd flip back Thursday night. So after I got all prepped for surgery, they decided to humor me with a quick scan. Shockingly, that crazy rascal had turned upside down again. The OB in the room couldn't believe it. We couldn't believe it! She called my doctor who came down (her office is on 6th floor, L&D was on 3rd) right away because she couldn't believe it either.
Taking into account my daughter's proclivity for gymnastics and the fact that I was already in a hospital gown and everything, we decided the best plan at that point was to induce pregnancy and get that baby out before she did another 180. All that work preparing for a C section and now I had to mentally prepare to actually give birth. At least now I get a little bit of food because I was STARVING. I was told not to eat 12 hrs prior to surgery but now I'm supposed to run a marathon?? Yeah, I'll take some jello, please. Make it two.
So at 11:30 on Friday morning, I officially started the labor process. I was already dilated to 3 and was having contractions, so they were hoping it could get done before my doctor left for the day. But several cups of jello later, I was still there, with no end in sight, when both my doctor and my nurse clocked out. At some point in the afternoon, I got the beautiful epidural by the best doctor I've ever met in my life so I really didn't care about much. By dinner time (for everybody else, of course, unless you count chicken broth as a meal), my toddler even came up to see me. Except apparently she didn't get the memo that she was there to see me. She was too distracted by the presence of 5 of her grandparents and all the crazy machinery in the room to even notice her mom. Besides, what was so special about mom being in bed?
But after she left, I started feeling some pressure. I told the nurse and everybody left the room. The nurse checked it out and sure enough, baby was ready. She contacted the on-call doctor who was there within 20 minutes. I had met this doctor before at a random check-up and she seemed nice enough. But she came in on this Friday night jazzed up, talking a million words a minute about who knows what and getting dressed just as quickly. The room immediately transformed into a delivery room and just a few pushes later, my baby was born at 8:33pm. The quickness of my delivery combined with the gymnastics had caused the umbilical cord to be loosely wrapped around her neck. The nurses immediately took care of her and it wasn't too long before I heard that beautiful scream.
Of course, the sequence of events following that are a bit of a blur and frankly the only people who care about them are women who are about to give birth. Basically, there was a weight check (9lbs exactly) and various other tests on baby while I lay in bed recuperating. Eventually we got to meet and the first thing I remember was just how much she looked like her sister, which, if you recall, means she was absolutely beautiful. By the time grandparents came in later, I was for sure exhausted. But more than anything else, I was HUNGRY. Seriously, why can't a burger be brought up as soon as the doctor says "It's a girl!"?? It was easily 11pm before I got that burger and I'm pretty sure it was the best thing I ever ate in my life.
I spent the next couple days in the hospital and everything was great. Visitors came and went. And it turns out it wasn't just the high of delivery and the lack of food for 24 hrs that made the burger good - everything they made was delicious. They also make a black bean and chipotle burger that I'm considering getting when I go back for my 6wk check-up. I had made a goodie box for the nurses with granola bars and candy. Only a few took me up on the offer, but offering it made me feel better when I then asked them to bring me things like more medicine and juice, even though I know it's their job. Also, random fact - each nurse in the postpartum wing progressively got 10 years older than the previous nurse. The first one we met around 1am Saturday morning was maybe 30, then the next one around 40, etc. It's a good thing we checked out when we did Sunday afternoon because we were afraid of who we would get next.
When we got home Sunday, our family dropped our toddler off (and looked extremely happy to do so), who immediately took to her little sister. She had met her a couple times in the hospital, but it was chaotic and she really wasn't focused. She loved her sister and wanted to take care of her, but we could tell she was misplacing her emotions when she threw a fit that her food was touching her plate wrong. A good night's sleep in her own bed took care of that.
Baby snuggles and toddler giggles are not things to take for granted. I am blessed.
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