Regan Lynne was born at 12:02 a.m. on Sunday, Oct. 9! She was 7 lbs. 9 oz., 20 1/4 inches long and wonderfully healthy.
The whole story is a long one, but I want to record it here for my own sake as well as for anyone else that's really that interested. But I wouldn't blame anyone for not reading this whole thing!
It started on Thursday, Oct. 6, at my regular doctor's appointment. It was one week and one day before my due date of Oct. 14. Everything was normal and healthy (though Dr. Beveridge had me come back that afternoon for an ultrasound to check fluid levels, which were normal) but he suggested we go ahead and set a date for induction in the next week. He said the baby was already around 8 lbs., and with my Factor 5, there was some increased risk of blood clots in letting the pregnancy last much longer. I didn't really want to be induced, but the truth is that I was really ready and excited to meet Regan. Plus, I just had a feeling that she wasn't going anywhere any time soon. I was only at 1 cm., I'd had no contractions (actually, I think I was contracting a little, but I didn't know what they were) and Regan was still really high up. Dr. Beveridge said I could basically choose any day I wanted, but encouraged me to choose a day that he'd be on call, I suppose because he suggested the induction and because I'd seen him the most of all the doctors. He was going to be on call that weekend, or I could wait another week or so. After talking to Paul, we just decided to go for it that weekend. It's strange being able to choose the day you go into labor. Paul didn't even have to miss a day of classes! Anyway, we chose to go in that Saturday at 7:30 a.m. to get started.
Somehow, I managed to work the rest of that day. I told my boss and the person who'd be filling in for me that I wouldn't be back after that day until January. I did my best to wrap up a bunch of final stuff, and I took Friday off to rest and get the house clean, since I wouldn't have another good opportunity for cleaning for a while. Paul and I were really excited, and I was starting to get nervous. I actually did sleep fairly well those two nights, but come Saturday morning I was really, really nervous. I knew I wouldn't be able to eat for a long time, so I'd planned to have a nice, big breakfast. But all I could manage to get into my turning stomach was a bowl of cereal. At about 7:15 a.m., we put Pax in his kennel, gathered up our things and headed out. We got checked in, shown to our room, I put on the lovely hospital gown and it was go time.
Honestly, as I'm sure most women who've had babies would agree, the day is kind of a blur. Dr. Beveridge came in sometime that morning and started me on a pill that was supposed to get contractions started. I don't remember if that first dose worked very well because I think I had three doses of that throughout the day. When contractions did start and we could watch them on the monitor, I realized that maybe I had been contracting a little for the last couple of weeks. It didn't feel anything like I expected it to. It really just felt like Regan moving and pushing up against me. It didn't hurt at all, but I could see the line on the monitor go up with each one. That part of the day was pretty fun and exciting.
It started snowing sometime that morning, and within a couple of hours it was a full on fall blizzard! The first snow of the year. Thank goodness it didn't make the roads too terrible, because my parents and Paul's parents drove in that morning. They arrived around 10 a.m. At that point, the mood was pretty relaxed and excited. We were watching sitcoms on TV and watching the snow come down outside the window, which overlooked the Capitol building.
Of course, at some point the contractions got worse. I really don't remember the timing of things, but I know that they still didn't feel anything like I expected. I never really got the up-and-down peaks and valleys that I expected. They basically just went from bad to worse - like period cramps amplified times 100. I was strapped in to a whole mess of cords and monitors most of the time, which made it really difficult to move around. But I didn't really want to anyway. I remember lying on my right side, holding Paul's hand a lot. There were still a lot of people in the room, but I barely knew they were there. At one point I asked Paul to mute the TV, and I think they watched football. They were good about keeping their voices low, and I just tried my best to relax and breathe. But without a break in between contractions, relaxing seemed impossible. I know my family wanted to do more for me, but I really didn't want to be touched or talked to. I just really wanted Paul there with me, holding my hand.
I think sometime in the early evening, the doctor came back in and checked me. I remember joking with him that if he told me I was still at 1 cm. that I'd kick him in the shins. That time, checking my dilation was the most painful thing of the day. It brought tears to my eyes, and I really did want to kick him. When he said I was about 1.5 cm., I didn't kick him, but I did cry. I couldn't believe that after all that, I'd barely made any progress. Even though it was still early, the doctor said I could go ahead and get an epidural if I wanted one. I never planned on giving birth without pain medication, but I did think that I'd be able to get further along without it, and I felt pretty defeated. A fantastic nurse named Trina gave me an awesome pep talk. She told me I was doing great, and that the nurses had noticed back at the nurses' station that I wasn't getting a break between contractions and that I was having a lot of them. I just remember feeling like a wimp, and she really made me feel better. Sometime shortly after that, I think, the doctor broke my water. The contractions got a lot worse, and I was ready for that epidural. I think I got it around 7 p.m.
The epidural felt rather strange. The needle hurt for a few seconds, but the world quickly returned to focus after being blurred from the pain, and then I felt great. The strange part was not being able to move my legs. At all. It was so odd to have zero control, like they belonged to someone else. If I tried to sit up a little with my knees bent, my legs would just flop over. It was pretty funny and we laughed about it.
Anyway, I really don't remember much about the time between when I got the epidural and the birth. I know that Paul's dad and Ann left for the hotel to try to get some rest, and I think my dad did the same. At some point, I guess around 10:30 p.m., I measured around 5 cm. We asked the nurse when we should call the family to come back, and she suggested waiting until about 8 cm. It must have been several hours later, but I could swear it was just a few minutes later that a resident came in announced that and I was at 9 cm. and we needed Dr. Beveridge ASAP. That must have been around 11:30 p.m. Paul quickly called the family, and the room filled up with people in scrubs.
At some point earlier, the doctor was a bit worried about Regan's heart rate because it was dropping a little too low with the contractions. He had put one of those monitors in her head to measure more accurately, so I knew that he was at least a little concerned. If he was more than a little concerned, he did a good job of hiding it from me. I started pushing when he told me to, with my mom's excited encouragement in my ear and Paul right next to me. Mom's encouragement was great, but I remember telling her to not be so loud because I couldn't hear the doctor's directions. I don't even know if he was giving any, but I wanted to be able to hear him if he was. Anyway, I think within maybe 2 contractions of pushing, the doctor told me that we needed to get Regan out as soon as possible, and that a vacuum or forceps might have to be used. Everyone told me just to push as hard as I could to get her out. So I did. I got to feel her head with my hand as she was crowning, and after just 10 minutes of pushing, she was out!
The nurses took her to the warmer because she needed some attention right away, but I heard her first cries and we cried together. Paul put his head to mine and we all cried. A few minutes later, they brought her over to me and laid her on my chest, and we just looked at each other. I talked to her and cried some more. She was so alert and calm, and her eyes were so beautiful. I was in total awe. And I cried all over again when they first handed her to Paul. Again, everything is a bit blurry, but at some point I asked what time she was born because I knew it had to have been right around midnight. It was 12:02 a.m., making her birthday Sunday, Oct. 9, 2011. Shortly after the doctor was done fixing me up (I needed a couple stitches - ladies, that's one thing they don't tell you about in the movies!) the family was called in and cameras were clicking all over the place. They cleaned her up, Paul put on her first diaper and they did all the initial newborn checks. She was perfect.
I learned later that Regan's cord had been wrapped around her neck. My mom was really impressed with Dr. Beveridge, who had the cord clamped and cut within a few seconds. There was also some concern over Regan possibly having some kind of infection because either she or I had a slight fever. But she didn't. The nurse apparently gave her a couple quick breaths of air to get her going on her own (I'm not sure how common that is, but apparently it's not all that unusual.) In any case, she was perfectly healthy. One of my absolute worst fears was having a sick baby. The feelings of relief and awe as I held her in my arms was incredible.
I could write a novel about all that has happened since she was born, with coming home, breastfeeding, adjusting to mommy-hood, sleep deprivation and all that. I'll try to make more regular (and shorter) posts on that kind of stuff. Anyway, we're both doing great!
