It definitely didn't go as planned, but nothing ever does and we have an amazing, happy, healthy little girl. That's what matters.
The story begins on Easter, 2012. I would be exactly 41 weeks that Monday, and had a doctor's appointment scheduled at 8 am for a sonogram and to talk about scheduling an induction. After a nice dinner at my parents' (at 3:00) Adam and I went home. I did the usual stuff- watch tv, check facebook, etc..- and went to bed around 9 or 10. I had the strangest dreams and remember having contractions in my dream. This was weird because I hadn't had any braxton hicks during my pregnancy.
I woke up around 2am and realized I was actually having contractions. Adam heard me get up as he was finally coming to bed. When I told him what was happening we started timing the contractions. He was so helpful, and tried to calm me down and wait a while before calling the Dr. I was having really painful back cramps about every 2 minutes so we called the Dr at 3 and were told to go to the Hospital. We went and filled out forms and waited, Then go in the back to get checked out and wait, then finally get admitted at 5am.
I thought the contractions were about an 8 on the pain scale of 1-10, but they got worse. I was able to get an epidural as soon as my bloodwork was in, and it felt great. I wasn't able to sleep, but time passed rather quickly. We finally decided to call our parents and let them know I was in the hospital, but for those who texted and asked how my Dr's appointment was, all I would say is that I was finally dilated (hadn't been at all the entire pregnancy and I was finally 2 cm that morning). We didn't really want to tell anyone until we knew when things would actually get started, but eventually we caved and people knew and we ended up with a bunch of family in the waiting room.
Sometime in the afternoon, the doctor finally broke my water, and my epidural wore off and I was able to get another dose. I was told I was progressing- and we would have a baby by 6pm.
Some time after 6, I Was finally 10cm and was able to push.
For three hours.
I pushed hearing that the head was right there.
I pushed hearing that the baby had a lot of hair.
I pushed with my mom calling 'Come on Alec' (yea we all thought it was going to be a boy)
I pushed taking breaths from the oxygen mask.
I pushed until I was told I couldn't push anymore and we were going in for a C-section.
I was carted off down the hall, through the doors, onto an elevator, and finally into an operating room. I was strapped down, the sheet was up, and I felt a pinch on my stomach.
Thank God I said it out loud because the anesthesiologist asked if I could feel it, and the Dr stopped. What I hadn't planned on was what he said next. If I had another epidural dose I would become toxic. I needed to be put under. After what seemed like forever, Adam came in kissed me but was not allowed to stay.
I woke up slowly in a recovery room somewhere. I could hear the nurse/ or tech/ or someone talking. I hear something about meconium already passed when they got the baby out.
When the Dr finally came to me the first thing I asked was if it was a boy or a girl. Girl. Then if she was in the NICU. No. Thank God again. I was still foggy and didn't have any reaction to finding out we had a girl, I was just relieved she was healthy. She was up in the nursery with Adam. I needed to stay in recovery for an hour (or 2?) after I woke up. Kate was born at 11pm, and I was finally able to go to my room and see her around 2am.
It didn't feel real. This wasn't my baby. It was just like when my nieces or nephew were born- I would love her but no different than them. It didn't feel different. I was expecting to have that moment when you push and the baby comes out and they lay her on your chest. All I did was wake up and get shown a baby that I was told was mine.
These feelings lingered for weeks. The disappointment of not being able to push. The fear that she didn't see/smell me after birth, and that she wouldn't know I was her mother. I don't think it was post-partum depression, just a bad case of the baby blues. A feeling of sadness. I nursed her, took a zillion pictures, and would do anything for her, but I would look at her sleeping and think "does she know I am her mom?"
Kate is now 16 months old. She is happy, running everywhere, expanding her vocabulary every day, and maybe a little bit crazy. Of course I think she is the cutest kid ever. Looking back, I can't believe I ever thought she wouldn't know who I was. It was a crazy experience, and I'm sure things could have gone differently if we knew what would happen. Next time, I will probably schedule a c-section but expect that anything can happen. I said before I delivered, and I say it still: I trust my doctors. I know they will do everything they can to safely deliver my baby.
Writing this, I teared up a bit, but I am ok. It doesn't break me the way it used to. I guess I am finally at peace with what happened.