Birthday, novel, Zoe, raw fish, TV
My birthday was on Tuesday. I'm now 33 years old. I don't feel all weird about getting older, probably because for the past year or so I haven't been able to remember how old I am. (A sign of old age, perhaps?) People ask and I literally have to calculate from the year I was born. And there's something I like about 33. There seems to be a sort of roundness or softness to that number.
To celebrate, Nate and I had a date, our first since Zoe was born. We went to Kenichi in Victory Park for some sushi. I'd been wanting some nigiri for a while and since I mostly abstained while I was pregnant, I was eager to get my paws on some raw fish. They had interesting combinations. The emphasis was definitely on subtlety and innovative pairings versus the stuff-your-face route we normally take when served with a plate of sushi. We also had some really nice sake. After dinner, we stopped for some gelato at a nearby cafe. They have movies on a big screen in Victory Park on Tuesday nights during the summer, so we caught the end of The Princess Bride while we enjoyed dessert. It was a nice, low-key birthday. I have the sense that this is going to be a good year.
The 19th was also Zoe's one-month birthday. Nate has taken to sometimes calling her "Zoe D.," which is a fun nickname. He also got a good video of her during tummy time. You can check it out here. I have heard her laugh in her sleep a couple of times, which is one of the cutest noises ever, though I do wonder what she's laughing about.
In other Zoe news, this past week I have been setting her down more and more. And the past two days, all of her naps have been on her own (in other words, I'm not holding her). This morning she took her first nap in her crib, which I was very excited about. I've actually been able to get a few things done! I don't think this is any great parenting on my part, necessarily. I think she just got old enough or reached some developmental stage where she doesn't need to be held practically 24/7. Of course, now that I said this I've probably jinxed everything. The one thing I've learned in my one month (LOL) of parenting is that what worked yesterday isn't necessarily what will work today. She is an evolving person, and when you think about how quickly she is developing right now and how different she will be in a year, it's pretty amazing.
In husband news, Nate has had some excitement lately. He was on a local TV station's morning program today and tomorrow he will be on the radio. It's funny because, as most writers and editors know, we usually don't go into this field because we love public speaking, but I think he's doing great.
And in novel news, I realized yet again that I am the freaking queen of the back story. I'm trying to cut as much excess as possible. It's a bit slow going since I've got the wee one to feed and take care of, but it's going.
Tuesday
Zoe update
Some of the funny things Zoe does:
Purses her lips into an "o" when she is hungry. She looks like she's about to whistle but it's the "give me food, woman!" signal.
Crosses her feet while she is nursing. Also, makes a fist with her thumbs inside her other fingers at the same time.
Likes being held. All. The. Time. She wakes up when you put her down. Although she will sleep in her swing and the doctor says she will outgrow this holding thing, possibly around six weeks, possibly later.
She used to wake me up every morning around 4 a.m. while I was pregnant. This has turned out to be one of her feeding times and also, coincidentally, one of the times of day when she is most alert. She usually has a late afternoon alert time, too, when we try to play and get in some "tummy time." (Parents will know what I'm talking about.)
She is still mellow. In three weeks, we've had what I would consider two bad nights. One when she was waking up every hour (instead of her normal two-three) and wanting to eat. I think she was going through a growth spurt. And one night of fussiness when she couldn't seem to sleep. All the other nights have been pretty decent. She wakes up two-three times, usually, eats, poos, and then goes back to sleep. She doesn't cry all that much. We've also had a couple of nights when she's slept four-five hours. Woo to the hoo!
While she's feeding, she grunts and makes all sorts of squealing noises. That, combined with her bullfrog belly and her being a good eater (putting on eleven ounces more than her birth weight at her two-week check up), have led to me calling her Miss Piggy. I'll stop eventually so she doesn't have body issues later that she blames me for during therapy.
She could lift her head at one week (I've been told this is unusual for newborns) and now holds up her head for extended periods of time. Also, she could turn on her side at a week, which she did at her two-day check up. The pediatrician said she is "unusually strong." What do I know? I ain't ever birthed no baby before. Now she is starting to grip things, like my shirt or my arm. She also appear to be focusing on objects like mobiles and reaching out for toys.
Some of the funny things Zoe does:
Purses her lips into an "o" when she is hungry. She looks like she's about to whistle but it's the "give me food, woman!" signal.
Crosses her feet while she is nursing. Also, makes a fist with her thumbs inside her other fingers at the same time.
Likes being held. All. The. Time. She wakes up when you put her down. Although she will sleep in her swing and the doctor says she will outgrow this holding thing, possibly around six weeks, possibly later.
She used to wake me up every morning around 4 a.m. while I was pregnant. This has turned out to be one of her feeding times and also, coincidentally, one of the times of day when she is most alert. She usually has a late afternoon alert time, too, when we try to play and get in some "tummy time." (Parents will know what I'm talking about.)
She is still mellow. In three weeks, we've had what I would consider two bad nights. One when she was waking up every hour (instead of her normal two-three) and wanting to eat. I think she was going through a growth spurt. And one night of fussiness when she couldn't seem to sleep. All the other nights have been pretty decent. She wakes up two-three times, usually, eats, poos, and then goes back to sleep. She doesn't cry all that much. We've also had a couple of nights when she's slept four-five hours. Woo to the hoo!
While she's feeding, she grunts and makes all sorts of squealing noises. That, combined with her bullfrog belly and her being a good eater (putting on eleven ounces more than her birth weight at her two-week check up), have led to me calling her Miss Piggy. I'll stop eventually so she doesn't have body issues later that she blames me for during therapy.
She could lift her head at one week (I've been told this is unusual for newborns) and now holds up her head for extended periods of time. Also, she could turn on her side at a week, which she did at her two-day check up. The pediatrician said she is "unusually strong." What do I know? I ain't ever birthed no baby before. Now she is starting to grip things, like my shirt or my arm. She also appear to be focusing on objects like mobiles and reaching out for toys.
Monday
Not much time
Things are going pretty well. Mom went home a week ago and Nate returned to work this week. I've started revising my novel (again!!!!) so between baby and trying to get a few things done, I doubt I'll have much time for posting. So, a picture.
Zoe, with grandma and cousins. Also, Nate has some more pictures on his Flickr.
Things are going pretty well. Mom went home a week ago and Nate returned to work this week. I've started revising my novel (again!!!!) so between baby and trying to get a few things done, I doubt I'll have much time for posting. So, a picture.
Zoe, with grandma and cousins. Also, Nate has some more pictures on his Flickr.
Tuesday
When Zoe Comes to Town
Talk about an interesting couple of days. Last Thursday, I mentioned I had really started slowing down. It was like my internal clock had been set to slow-mo. I’d heard that was a sign of impending labor, but like all the other “signs,” it’s not like it came with a countdown.
I got my hair cut on Thursday afternoon. I worked a full day, though in my fuzzy, mushy mental state much of what I did took longer than it should have. I came home and had dinner with Nate and began to watch the season finale of Ugly Betty. I think I watched the first half hour and then I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Nate put me to bed around 7:30 and then left for his last weekly ride with his local bike club. I woke up around 11 p.m. or so, and realized I was having contractions. I decided to get up to see if moving around would make them stop, which had happened before. I got up, walked around, then started timing. The contractions weren’t going away and were coming at ten minutes consistently. I realized this might be the real deal. Around 11:45 or midnight, I called Nate to let him know we might be having a baby. He came home a few minutes later and we thought he should get a good night’s sleep since we assumed we’d be having the baby sometime the next day.
I stayed up all night. I kept moving. Sometimes I’d sit on my exercise ball, sometimes I’d sit in the rocking chair or I’d walk around. I watched Chicago. I tried to nap but anytime I reclined, the labor pains were so bad the rest wasn’t worth it. Nate woke up early the next day and it seemed like I hadn’t made much progress. I was still having contractions regularly, but the intervals weren’t consistent. Ten minutes, 15 minutes, eight, etc. I called work to let them know I thought I was in labor. We called my doctor to let the office know I might be going to the hospital later that day. We told them about the intervals and the nurse told me my doctor was in San Diego for his son’s college graduation. She told me who was on call, which was fine, because I liked that doctor as well; he just wasn’t my regular OB/GYN. Also, he had visited our birthing class a week or two before, so Nate had met him, too, and liked him. The nurse told me to rest if I could and to eat lightly, chicken broth and toast and things like that.
At this point, I’m thinking I’m still in early labor and I’d already been going for 12 hours. I figured it was better to keep eating and possibly throw up rather than be exhausted and weak because I had only been eating things like chicken broth. So I ate when I was hungry. Toast, soup, ice cream, pretty much whatever sounded good at the moment.
Nate and I both stayed home all day. Nate was tracking my contractions and they stayed the same, which is to say, they kept coming but the intervals kept changing. We decided to take care of last minute details. We did three loads of laundry, I swept the floor, we made sure our bags were packed and loaded. Sometime that afternoon, my mom called to see if she should catch a flight to Dallas or not. I started crying. Not because the pain was so bad at that point, but because I felt very frustrated. I had no sense of whether I was making any progress. I didn’t know what to tell my mom. She decided to come.
Late that afternoon before everyone left for the weekend, I asked Nate to call the doctor’s office again to see what they thought we should do. I was pretty sure they would tell me to stay at home, which is what they did. My water hadn’t broken and my contractions weren’t coming any closer together. The nurse said for us to conserve as much strength as possible because it was likely that my contractions would get worse that night. She said something about the uterus being a nocturnal organ.
My mom flew into Dallas and Edie, my mother in law, and her husband picked up mom and brought her over. We ordered pizza. I could hold a conversation between contractions, but once one hit, I preferred to be alone to get through it. Everyone hung out for a little while, then Edie and John left. Mom, Nate, and I hung out for the rest of the evening. They were helping me time contractions. I drank water pretty constantly, both regular and mineral, with lemon. I heard the lemon would help with nausea, though I never felt a strong urge to vomit.
As the night got later, the contractions did seem to increase in intensity. Sometimes I was cold—I remember putting a sweatshirt on—then I’d get really hot. At one point I took off all of my clothes except my shirt. Sometime in the evening, we heard a really weird noise and our A/C stopped working. Nate went to look and two wires had fused together and were sparking near the gas line. Good times. He shut something off so the house wouldn’t explode (honestly I was having a really hard time caring about anything other than the labor at that point even though two live wires sparking near a furnace are bad) and we opened windows and turned on fans. It rained that night, so it was actually quite cool in the house.
Around midnight, my mom went to bed to rest. Nate stayed with me while I walked around moaning. I had a lot of pain in my back. I don’t know if it was actual back labor or if that’s just the way labor feels. The things that helped: I got into the tub both Thursday and Friday nights. It didn’t help the pain, exactly, but it helped me relax. I also spent a lot of time bent over, either on my hands and knees rocking back and forth, or leaning over a table or a chair. That seemed to relieve the pressure on my back. I changed positions and walked around quite a lot. (Turned out I was right about the pedicure; I spent a lot of time staring at my feet.) I also had this awesome hot sock thing, a terry cloth filled with rice and lavender that you heat up in the microwave. I would warm that up and stretch it across my back and that gave me a lot of comfort.
Around three in the morning, Nate was having a hard time staying awake. Since my contractions were still not coming at the regular intervals they needed to (5-1-1; five minutes apart for a minute or longer for an hour or more) for me to go to the hospital and my water hadn’t broken, we woke up my mom to take Nate’s place for a while. It was around this time that things suddenly got more intense. I was drinking a lot of water and I pretty much had to pee after every contraction because they were so strong and I guess my bladder didn’t have any room. I started feeling a lot of pressure. My mom kept asking me if I thought we should go to the hospital, but when we’d look at the contractions, they weren’t regular. Then suddenly they went from 10 minutes to four. For an hour, I had three, four, three, five, ten, four, etc. It seemed like I had turned a corner and when I went to pee the last time, I saw quite a bit of blood. It was now around 4 a.m. I wanted to be sure before we left the house because I kept thinking, if we go to the hospital and they tell me I’m two centimeters dilated, I’m going to be very discouraged. But the pain was getting crazy and even more than that, after about 29 hours of labor and two nights without sleep, I had no more reserves. Nate called the doctor and when he told him I was having the urge to push, the doc told us to go. I wanted to take a shower but my mom talked me out of it (and knowing what I know now, if I'd taken that shower, I probably would have had a home birth). I told Nate he should feed the dogs before we left (seriously, I think I am insane sometimes).
As we got to Nate’s car, a contraction hit me. Nate came over to help me in and I felt such an urge to push, I panicked. I thought we had waited too long and I bit his shoulder without thinking. He flinched, helped me into the car, then we were on our way to the hospital. It was about 4:20 a.m. I had a few contractions on the way, and whereas before, I’d been telling myself not to fight against the pain, to let my body do what it was trying to do, which was relax and open, I now was trying consciously not to push but the pressure was hard to resist.
We arrived at the hospital. I had preregistered, but they still had a few questions for us. I answered what I could, then a contraction hit me and the nurse led me to my room (the doctor had called ahead). They gave me a gown to change into. I walked to the bathroom and just began throwing off my clothes. I didn’t care who saw what. They told me they needed to check and see where I was at. I had to lie down and I had a contraction in bed. It was unbearable. I had to get up. I just couldn’t deal with them lying down. Walking around or leaning over made them more tolerable for some reason. But they had to check me. They examined me and said I was at 8 centimeters. I asked for an epidural. The nurse urged me to think about the breathing, not the contraction, which I tried to do. They began to prep me for the IV I would need to get an epidural. The nurse said, “You’re really controlled. I know you could do this naturally if you wanted.” At this point I’m thinking, not only am I exhausted, I’m worried another hour or two of labor will push me so far over the edge I won’t have the strength for the pushing. I’d heard that some hospitals, no matter how many times you expressed your desire to go natural, would discourage you. I found the opposite to be true. All of the nurses and the doctor tried to help me go natural but after that many hours of pain and no sleep, I just didn’t think I could deal with it anymore. But I could tell the nurses were worried it was too late. You have to have a certain amount of the fluid from the IV before you can get an epidural and they had to get the anesthesiologist into my room also.
In the end, it worked out. I got the epidural and immediately relaxed. Nate said I started smiling. The doctor told me to try to rest. I asked Nate to put some socks on my feet because I was cold. He pulled out some house slippers we’d bought at Target and at least three different nurses complimented me on them. All the nurses who later came into my recovery room liked them, too, which is pretty funny, now that I think about it. As Nate said, here you are, having a baby and people are saying, "I love your shoes."
I asked the doctor if the baby was facing the wrong way because I had been having so much pain in my back. He said she was in the process of rotating. He broke my water and said that would probably encourage the last two centimeters of dilation. For the next hour, I dozed. Nate put my waves on again (sounds I’d been listening to during the labor earlier). I talked to Nate, my mom, and Edie periodically. I was making jokes. That hour of rest made a huge difference. I got checked again and I was dilated to ten centimeters.
The nurse came and explained how she wanted me to push. Nate stood on my left and she stood on my right. The whole time Nate gave me encouragement and was my cheerleader. We did a few practice pushes before I figured out how to do what the nurse wanted me to do, since I couldn’t feel what I was doing so well. It was more a mental thing than physical. When I got it right, she said, “what you did that last time, that’s what I want you to do.” So we did a few pushes then she said, “Stop! Stop pushing. Get the doctor.” So the doctor came. All in all, I think I pushed for 42 minutes. Everything happened so fast. Zoe was born at 8:22 a.m. The doctor gave me the baby. Both of her grandmothers started crying. I thought I would cry when she was born, but I started laughing instead. Nate and I were both laughing and smiling. Nate cut the cord and I think they took her to do the cleaning, suctioning, etc. I was thinking she did not at all look like a Madeleine, which had been my favorite name up until that point.
Meanwhile, they stitched me up. I had a second-degree tear (and I am definitely glad I had the benefit of an epidural during that) and they got the placenta delivered, which I never saw but Nate did (he said it looked like an octopus or a jellyfish or something and said it was fascinating). My arms were shaking a lot. I don’t know if that was from the epidural or from going unmedicated up until that point in labor. They gave me the baby and I tried to breastfeed, but my arms were shaking so much I couldn’t hold her very well. They gave the baby to Nate. She was crying, but as soon as Nate started talking, she calmed down.
We stayed in delivery for a couple of hours, then they took me to my room. I was starving and asked for food pretty much immediately. I think my first meal was brisket. They took the baby to give her a bath and do a couple of other things with her in the nursery and Nate and I slept for a couple of hours.
Eventually I was able to breastfeed and we hung out with the baby. Nate and I began to discuss names. For a while, it seemed like she was going to be a Mariana. The other options we considered were Ava, Zoe, and Samantha. Zoe ended up winning out as the name for a few reasons. When they brought her to us after her first bath, her hair was sticking up in a mohawk, which seemed very Zoe-like. Also, it went well with her middle and last names (we thought Samantha was too long with the combination). The three names we picked have a nice rhythm.
I am already starting to forget details. The morning after the delivery, I couldn’t remember the actual sensation of labor pain. I knew it hurt, I knew I had been in pain, but I couldn’t remember what it had felt like, and this was only a few hours later. And other than crying on the phone with my mom, I don’t think I cried at any other point during labor, which sort of surprises me now.
The day after I had Zoe, my sister flew into Dallas also. On the first night, she sent Nate home so he could get some sleep and she stayed in the hospital room and helped me with Zoe. She gave me a lot of good advice, especially about breastfeeding. She was really excited about having a girl in the family (she has two boys) and she kept squeezing the baby to make her grunt. I think she is coming back to visit over Memorial Day weekend.
In terms of recovery, I have been home now for almost two days and I’m feeling tired, but pretty well over all. Apparently, I didn’t have a lot of complications. Very little to no swelling in the perineal area, no hemorrhoids after the pushing, etc. I’m a little sore from the stitches, but already feel quite a bit better. I’m trying to remember not to push myself. I really wanted to go for a walk today but decided against it. I’m going to try to wait another day or two. Mom is here for a couple of weeks and that is a huge help. She and Nate rotate shifts and usually one of them is up with Zoe after she has eaten but is still really alert and that lets me get a couple of quick catnaps in.
In terms of details, Zoe was six pounds, three ounces, quite a bit smaller than I expected. The doctor had estimated she’d be in the low sevens. She has long, thin fingers and toes. Her eyes are that milky blue grey common to newborns. I’m pretty sure they’ll eventually turn brown. Her hair is a little sparse up top, but she already needs a trim in the back and around her ears. I think her nose, cheeks, and lips look like me, but I think her chin is all Nate and her eyes are possibly his, also. Her eyes are still a little swollen from the delivery so it’s hard to say for sure. Generally speaking, she’s pretty mellow. She doesn’t cry very much and it’s this funny low squeaking sort of cry. Compared to the other babies in the hospital, it isn’t that piercing, come-get-me-now shriek. She just sounds unhappy and is letting you know about it. She gets really really red when she’s mad. So far the things that seem to make her mad are having her clothes or diapers changed. She’s a funny little thing. And of course I’m prejudiced but I think she is beautiful.
When Zoe comes to town, things break, apparently. In addition to the A/C going out (which Edie was kind enough to take care of while we were still in the hospital), the plumbing went out of whack. The day we got home from the hospital, one of us flushed a toilet and all of the toilets and tubs backed up. We had to call a plumber. Fun stuff. I think the house was preparing for Zoe’s arrival by going on strike. But we now have a working A/C and indoor plumbing, both nice things when you have a newborn. And of course, we have a beautiful baby girl and we are at home, hanging out and waiting to see what happens next. Hopefully nothing else will break.
Talk about an interesting couple of days. Last Thursday, I mentioned I had really started slowing down. It was like my internal clock had been set to slow-mo. I’d heard that was a sign of impending labor, but like all the other “signs,” it’s not like it came with a countdown.
I got my hair cut on Thursday afternoon. I worked a full day, though in my fuzzy, mushy mental state much of what I did took longer than it should have. I came home and had dinner with Nate and began to watch the season finale of Ugly Betty. I think I watched the first half hour and then I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Nate put me to bed around 7:30 and then left for his last weekly ride with his local bike club. I woke up around 11 p.m. or so, and realized I was having contractions. I decided to get up to see if moving around would make them stop, which had happened before. I got up, walked around, then started timing. The contractions weren’t going away and were coming at ten minutes consistently. I realized this might be the real deal. Around 11:45 or midnight, I called Nate to let him know we might be having a baby. He came home a few minutes later and we thought he should get a good night’s sleep since we assumed we’d be having the baby sometime the next day.
I stayed up all night. I kept moving. Sometimes I’d sit on my exercise ball, sometimes I’d sit in the rocking chair or I’d walk around. I watched Chicago. I tried to nap but anytime I reclined, the labor pains were so bad the rest wasn’t worth it. Nate woke up early the next day and it seemed like I hadn’t made much progress. I was still having contractions regularly, but the intervals weren’t consistent. Ten minutes, 15 minutes, eight, etc. I called work to let them know I thought I was in labor. We called my doctor to let the office know I might be going to the hospital later that day. We told them about the intervals and the nurse told me my doctor was in San Diego for his son’s college graduation. She told me who was on call, which was fine, because I liked that doctor as well; he just wasn’t my regular OB/GYN. Also, he had visited our birthing class a week or two before, so Nate had met him, too, and liked him. The nurse told me to rest if I could and to eat lightly, chicken broth and toast and things like that.
At this point, I’m thinking I’m still in early labor and I’d already been going for 12 hours. I figured it was better to keep eating and possibly throw up rather than be exhausted and weak because I had only been eating things like chicken broth. So I ate when I was hungry. Toast, soup, ice cream, pretty much whatever sounded good at the moment.
Nate and I both stayed home all day. Nate was tracking my contractions and they stayed the same, which is to say, they kept coming but the intervals kept changing. We decided to take care of last minute details. We did three loads of laundry, I swept the floor, we made sure our bags were packed and loaded. Sometime that afternoon, my mom called to see if she should catch a flight to Dallas or not. I started crying. Not because the pain was so bad at that point, but because I felt very frustrated. I had no sense of whether I was making any progress. I didn’t know what to tell my mom. She decided to come.
Late that afternoon before everyone left for the weekend, I asked Nate to call the doctor’s office again to see what they thought we should do. I was pretty sure they would tell me to stay at home, which is what they did. My water hadn’t broken and my contractions weren’t coming any closer together. The nurse said for us to conserve as much strength as possible because it was likely that my contractions would get worse that night. She said something about the uterus being a nocturnal organ.
My mom flew into Dallas and Edie, my mother in law, and her husband picked up mom and brought her over. We ordered pizza. I could hold a conversation between contractions, but once one hit, I preferred to be alone to get through it. Everyone hung out for a little while, then Edie and John left. Mom, Nate, and I hung out for the rest of the evening. They were helping me time contractions. I drank water pretty constantly, both regular and mineral, with lemon. I heard the lemon would help with nausea, though I never felt a strong urge to vomit.
As the night got later, the contractions did seem to increase in intensity. Sometimes I was cold—I remember putting a sweatshirt on—then I’d get really hot. At one point I took off all of my clothes except my shirt. Sometime in the evening, we heard a really weird noise and our A/C stopped working. Nate went to look and two wires had fused together and were sparking near the gas line. Good times. He shut something off so the house wouldn’t explode (honestly I was having a really hard time caring about anything other than the labor at that point even though two live wires sparking near a furnace are bad) and we opened windows and turned on fans. It rained that night, so it was actually quite cool in the house.
Around midnight, my mom went to bed to rest. Nate stayed with me while I walked around moaning. I had a lot of pain in my back. I don’t know if it was actual back labor or if that’s just the way labor feels. The things that helped: I got into the tub both Thursday and Friday nights. It didn’t help the pain, exactly, but it helped me relax. I also spent a lot of time bent over, either on my hands and knees rocking back and forth, or leaning over a table or a chair. That seemed to relieve the pressure on my back. I changed positions and walked around quite a lot. (Turned out I was right about the pedicure; I spent a lot of time staring at my feet.) I also had this awesome hot sock thing, a terry cloth filled with rice and lavender that you heat up in the microwave. I would warm that up and stretch it across my back and that gave me a lot of comfort.
Around three in the morning, Nate was having a hard time staying awake. Since my contractions were still not coming at the regular intervals they needed to (5-1-1; five minutes apart for a minute or longer for an hour or more) for me to go to the hospital and my water hadn’t broken, we woke up my mom to take Nate’s place for a while. It was around this time that things suddenly got more intense. I was drinking a lot of water and I pretty much had to pee after every contraction because they were so strong and I guess my bladder didn’t have any room. I started feeling a lot of pressure. My mom kept asking me if I thought we should go to the hospital, but when we’d look at the contractions, they weren’t regular. Then suddenly they went from 10 minutes to four. For an hour, I had three, four, three, five, ten, four, etc. It seemed like I had turned a corner and when I went to pee the last time, I saw quite a bit of blood. It was now around 4 a.m. I wanted to be sure before we left the house because I kept thinking, if we go to the hospital and they tell me I’m two centimeters dilated, I’m going to be very discouraged. But the pain was getting crazy and even more than that, after about 29 hours of labor and two nights without sleep, I had no more reserves. Nate called the doctor and when he told him I was having the urge to push, the doc told us to go. I wanted to take a shower but my mom talked me out of it (and knowing what I know now, if I'd taken that shower, I probably would have had a home birth). I told Nate he should feed the dogs before we left (seriously, I think I am insane sometimes).
As we got to Nate’s car, a contraction hit me. Nate came over to help me in and I felt such an urge to push, I panicked. I thought we had waited too long and I bit his shoulder without thinking. He flinched, helped me into the car, then we were on our way to the hospital. It was about 4:20 a.m. I had a few contractions on the way, and whereas before, I’d been telling myself not to fight against the pain, to let my body do what it was trying to do, which was relax and open, I now was trying consciously not to push but the pressure was hard to resist.
We arrived at the hospital. I had preregistered, but they still had a few questions for us. I answered what I could, then a contraction hit me and the nurse led me to my room (the doctor had called ahead). They gave me a gown to change into. I walked to the bathroom and just began throwing off my clothes. I didn’t care who saw what. They told me they needed to check and see where I was at. I had to lie down and I had a contraction in bed. It was unbearable. I had to get up. I just couldn’t deal with them lying down. Walking around or leaning over made them more tolerable for some reason. But they had to check me. They examined me and said I was at 8 centimeters. I asked for an epidural. The nurse urged me to think about the breathing, not the contraction, which I tried to do. They began to prep me for the IV I would need to get an epidural. The nurse said, “You’re really controlled. I know you could do this naturally if you wanted.” At this point I’m thinking, not only am I exhausted, I’m worried another hour or two of labor will push me so far over the edge I won’t have the strength for the pushing. I’d heard that some hospitals, no matter how many times you expressed your desire to go natural, would discourage you. I found the opposite to be true. All of the nurses and the doctor tried to help me go natural but after that many hours of pain and no sleep, I just didn’t think I could deal with it anymore. But I could tell the nurses were worried it was too late. You have to have a certain amount of the fluid from the IV before you can get an epidural and they had to get the anesthesiologist into my room also.
In the end, it worked out. I got the epidural and immediately relaxed. Nate said I started smiling. The doctor told me to try to rest. I asked Nate to put some socks on my feet because I was cold. He pulled out some house slippers we’d bought at Target and at least three different nurses complimented me on them. All the nurses who later came into my recovery room liked them, too, which is pretty funny, now that I think about it. As Nate said, here you are, having a baby and people are saying, "I love your shoes."
I asked the doctor if the baby was facing the wrong way because I had been having so much pain in my back. He said she was in the process of rotating. He broke my water and said that would probably encourage the last two centimeters of dilation. For the next hour, I dozed. Nate put my waves on again (sounds I’d been listening to during the labor earlier). I talked to Nate, my mom, and Edie periodically. I was making jokes. That hour of rest made a huge difference. I got checked again and I was dilated to ten centimeters.
The nurse came and explained how she wanted me to push. Nate stood on my left and she stood on my right. The whole time Nate gave me encouragement and was my cheerleader. We did a few practice pushes before I figured out how to do what the nurse wanted me to do, since I couldn’t feel what I was doing so well. It was more a mental thing than physical. When I got it right, she said, “what you did that last time, that’s what I want you to do.” So we did a few pushes then she said, “Stop! Stop pushing. Get the doctor.” So the doctor came. All in all, I think I pushed for 42 minutes. Everything happened so fast. Zoe was born at 8:22 a.m. The doctor gave me the baby. Both of her grandmothers started crying. I thought I would cry when she was born, but I started laughing instead. Nate and I were both laughing and smiling. Nate cut the cord and I think they took her to do the cleaning, suctioning, etc. I was thinking she did not at all look like a Madeleine, which had been my favorite name up until that point.
Meanwhile, they stitched me up. I had a second-degree tear (and I am definitely glad I had the benefit of an epidural during that) and they got the placenta delivered, which I never saw but Nate did (he said it looked like an octopus or a jellyfish or something and said it was fascinating). My arms were shaking a lot. I don’t know if that was from the epidural or from going unmedicated up until that point in labor. They gave me the baby and I tried to breastfeed, but my arms were shaking so much I couldn’t hold her very well. They gave the baby to Nate. She was crying, but as soon as Nate started talking, she calmed down.
We stayed in delivery for a couple of hours, then they took me to my room. I was starving and asked for food pretty much immediately. I think my first meal was brisket. They took the baby to give her a bath and do a couple of other things with her in the nursery and Nate and I slept for a couple of hours.
Eventually I was able to breastfeed and we hung out with the baby. Nate and I began to discuss names. For a while, it seemed like she was going to be a Mariana. The other options we considered were Ava, Zoe, and Samantha. Zoe ended up winning out as the name for a few reasons. When they brought her to us after her first bath, her hair was sticking up in a mohawk, which seemed very Zoe-like. Also, it went well with her middle and last names (we thought Samantha was too long with the combination). The three names we picked have a nice rhythm.
I am already starting to forget details. The morning after the delivery, I couldn’t remember the actual sensation of labor pain. I knew it hurt, I knew I had been in pain, but I couldn’t remember what it had felt like, and this was only a few hours later. And other than crying on the phone with my mom, I don’t think I cried at any other point during labor, which sort of surprises me now.
The day after I had Zoe, my sister flew into Dallas also. On the first night, she sent Nate home so he could get some sleep and she stayed in the hospital room and helped me with Zoe. She gave me a lot of good advice, especially about breastfeeding. She was really excited about having a girl in the family (she has two boys) and she kept squeezing the baby to make her grunt. I think she is coming back to visit over Memorial Day weekend.
In terms of recovery, I have been home now for almost two days and I’m feeling tired, but pretty well over all. Apparently, I didn’t have a lot of complications. Very little to no swelling in the perineal area, no hemorrhoids after the pushing, etc. I’m a little sore from the stitches, but already feel quite a bit better. I’m trying to remember not to push myself. I really wanted to go for a walk today but decided against it. I’m going to try to wait another day or two. Mom is here for a couple of weeks and that is a huge help. She and Nate rotate shifts and usually one of them is up with Zoe after she has eaten but is still really alert and that lets me get a couple of quick catnaps in.
In terms of details, Zoe was six pounds, three ounces, quite a bit smaller than I expected. The doctor had estimated she’d be in the low sevens. She has long, thin fingers and toes. Her eyes are that milky blue grey common to newborns. I’m pretty sure they’ll eventually turn brown. Her hair is a little sparse up top, but she already needs a trim in the back and around her ears. I think her nose, cheeks, and lips look like me, but I think her chin is all Nate and her eyes are possibly his, also. Her eyes are still a little swollen from the delivery so it’s hard to say for sure. Generally speaking, she’s pretty mellow. She doesn’t cry very much and it’s this funny low squeaking sort of cry. Compared to the other babies in the hospital, it isn’t that piercing, come-get-me-now shriek. She just sounds unhappy and is letting you know about it. She gets really really red when she’s mad. So far the things that seem to make her mad are having her clothes or diapers changed. She’s a funny little thing. And of course I’m prejudiced but I think she is beautiful.
When Zoe comes to town, things break, apparently. In addition to the A/C going out (which Edie was kind enough to take care of while we were still in the hospital), the plumbing went out of whack. The day we got home from the hospital, one of us flushed a toilet and all of the toilets and tubs backed up. We had to call a plumber. Fun stuff. I think the house was preparing for Zoe’s arrival by going on strike. But we now have a working A/C and indoor plumbing, both nice things when you have a newborn. And of course, we have a beautiful baby girl and we are at home, hanging out and waiting to see what happens next. Hopefully nothing else will break.