Baby Lucky

Lucky Luciana
November 1st

Starting the last few days of October, I began experiencing more intense Braxton Hicks contractions. Instead of the slightly uncomfortable tightening feeling that would spread all around my belly - these were different. These Braxton Hicks were what I would describe as a dull pain, like a menstrual cramp radiating in my lower uterus. Little did I know, this was the onset of early labor.

I awoke to the most intense, still what I believed to be a Braxton Hicks contraction, at 6:30 am on November 1st. I got up to go to the bathroom and soon discovered I lost a good piece of my mucus plug. Was this the whole thing? Half? Just a bit? All I knew was that things were in motion! I never thought this would end up being the day my baby would come into the world. You hear stories about 72-hour labors and people losing their mucus plugs or even rupturing their membranes and their babies don't come for days! Surely this was going to be me.

The day ahead of me was fully booked. I was to meet up with a girlfriend and get a pedicure, have a lunch meeting with my staff, process payroll, and do some first of the month accounting. Oh, and try to make it to CVS to get a sitz bath, which I kept hearing I must have, not to mention still finish packing my hospital bags. At home that morning, I lost more and more of my mucus plug and then began leaking a pinkish watery fluid. Was this my water breaking? Or part of the aftermath of losing my mucus plug? Who knew...but thank goodness for the giant maxi pads that had just arrived through Amazon along with many other horrific and embarrassing toiletries that I had ordered for my postpartum recovery.

Maxi skirt & maxi pad in place, I went about my day! I kept repeating my mantra for the day in my head 'do real life', and so I did. Getting my pedicure early that day my girlfriend looked me dead on after I had a contraction (which I still was not convinced were the real thing) and said "Oh, your having this baby today!" Yeah. Right.

At about 1pm it hit me. I was having real contractions. I started timing them on my phone and they were about 20-30 seconds long every 6-8 minutes. I went to my lunch meeting and then to Honeys to do some work. All the while the contractions were getting more intense and coming at me more frequently. I remember a client of mine coming in and talking to me and I couldn't even concentrate on our conversation. All I kept thinking was I have to get out of here! I have to get home!

I called Joey, who was out doing some errands for me (I pawned getting the sitz bath out on him), and told him to meet me at the house right away. He knew by the sound of my voice that this was getting serious! At this point it was about 3 pm. I labored at the house, pacing around, clutching my phone, timing my contractions. I had to call in payroll before 5 pm. I kept thinking about doing it, but couldn't get it together to call. I could not delegate this to anyone. A wave of nausea came over me and I ran to the bathroom and threw up my entire lunch and the liter of water I had just drank. Great, I thought to myself, now I have to do this dehydrated & on an empty stomach? And so I paced, and cursed and tried every trick of the trade I'd learned in my birthing preparation classes. The exercise ball? Hated it. Slow dancing with Joey? Annoying. Walking it out? Debilitating. Sitting? NOOOO!!!! Joey and I had agreed that we would go to the hospital when my contractions were 3-5 minutes apart lasting for a minute for three continuous hours. I met the first bit of criteria, but not the second nor the third. I called my sister Theresa, who was acting as my doula, to make the drive from Ventura and come up. My Mom arrived shortly after that and sat on the sofa feeling helpless as I became crippled with pain every 3-4 minutes. She was trying to convince Joey & I that it was time to go to the hospital. I remember snapping at her and reciting our game plan, which of course she thought was crazy, but she sat back and let us do what we thought was best.

It was almost 5 o'clock, I had to call in that darn payroll. I let the gentleman know who was helping me on the other end that I would have to put him on some intermittent, brief holds throughout our conversation. As my contraction would start up, I would stop mid sentence or cut him off and politely ask him to hold. I would then hit mute and wail out primitively in pain. When it was over I would cheerfully get back on the line and thank him for holding while profusely apologizing. (Oddly enough after each contraction was over I felt incredibly happy & excited - maybe just because it was over? Or was it a release of serotonin?) This happened approximately 3-4 times and each time I prayed that I did, in fact, press the mute button. Then I had this one very distinct contraction. This one felt different, like pressure on my cervix. That's all I had to say to Joey and he said, "Ok let's go to the hospital."

Theresa arrived at my house at 5:30pm. She was shocked to see that I was in active labor. Joey and I got in our car and my Mom and Theresa in another and off to the hospital we went. We arrived at the hospital at 6pm. We drove up to the front of the new hospital entrance, and Joey left me in the car while he went and asked if there was valet or if he could just leave the car there temporarily. He came back and said they told him "No valet and no, you can't leave your car there." Being that we were in a state of emergency he said screw it and left the car there anyway. As we were walking in, the girl behind the administration desk said she would have the car towed if it was left there.

Joey left to move it to the parking lot and I stayed behind leaning up against the administration desk doubled over with every contraction. They offered me a wheelchair, but I declined. We took the elevator up to Labor and Delivery and then walked down the hall to the front desk. I remember stopping several feet away from the desk with a contraction, clutching the hand rail along the wall and thinking to myself how nice it was to have it there and that it seemed to be placed there just for me!

After being admitted, the tech put us in a room where I was to have my cervix checked. The nurse who came in was not so nice. She was rough and gruff and just plain miserable. Joey told her that I did not want to know what I was dilated to, but that she could inform him. She questioned why I didn't want to know and scoffed at him wanting to know, but not me. Shortly after that pleasantry, an angel of a nurse walked in with her bright eyes and big smile and introduced herself as our nurse who would be taking over. Thank God! She said that she was informed that I didn't want to know where I was dilated to and I replied by saying that I was just hoping I could stay and wouldn't have to leave. "You can stay", she replied with a smile. All right then. Let's do this!

A nurse asked me if I wanted an epidural and I said no, and that was the first and last time I heard or thought about that word again. We moved directly across the hall to the delivery room. My other sister, Mary, was on her way to the hospital. It was very important to me to have both my sisters in the delivery room, as well as my Mom and of course Joey. About 45 minutes transpired and I had several intense contractions, all while answering the nurse’s questions and talking, even joking and laughing between contractions. My nurse came in again and wanted to check me once more. Before she did, she asked if there was a number I would be comfortable knowing that I am and I said she could tell me if I was an 8- seemed like a nice round number to me. So she checked, and then said, "Well you are definitely not an 8...you're a 9 1/2!" What?! Whoa!! I asked what I was 45 minutes earlier and she said I was a 5/6. I couldn't believe that I had made it this far! I felt so proud, so excited! I was given my hep-lock in my arm opposed to my hand, which I really appreciated, and it didn't hurt at all. Ten minutes later, the on-call doctor, Dr. Craig, came in the room and checked me again. "She's complete plus 2!" she said to the nurses, and that's when things started happening really quick. Staff was moving about quickly with carts and trays and implements here and there and everywhere!

The doctor informed me that my membranes were still intact and she suggested that she break my water as it would help things move along. Without giving it much thought (which I now regret - it would have been extra special having the baby born in the bag) I nodded my head yes, and then gush! I can now say there is absolutely no mistaking when you water actually breaks. Wow...

Enter the pushing stage - Here I pushed, there I pushed, everywhere I pushed, pushed. I started to push sitting upright at a bit of an angle. Then I tried pushing while on my knees facing the back of the bed while griping the top. Then back to position number 1. Then on my side with my leg held up. It didn't seem as though things were progressing as they should be and although I didn't know it, I had been pushing for close to 2 hours at this point. I was told that the baby was having a hard time moving past my pelvic bone. The doctor then brought out a sheet and twisted it into a U shape. She had me hold on to each end of the sheet while sitting up, my legs still in the stirrups as she held the middle. I had to pull the two ends of the sheet while she held the other and resisted against my pull. I bore down with all my might to get my baby to move past the obstruction, which was my pelvis. It worked. I was well aware of this new positioning, which stretching and a burning sensation accompanied.

I was yet again stuck in this stage for quite a while. I was pushing with everything I had, but my baby was still stuck in the birth canal. I would get encouraging words when the top of a little wrinkly head full of black hair would makes its appearance during a contraction, but when it was over, it would regress back up. This was the case through dozens of contractions. At one point the doctor encouraged me to reach down and feel my baby, which I did reluctantly. I quickly drew my hand back up, I didn't like that at all! It kind of freaked me out! It's funny, you don't know what kind of woman you are going to be when you give birth until you are actually there - giving birth! Which I'm sure changes with each time you go through it! Here I thought I'd be like Kourtney K, pulling my own baby out, I mean I'm going to encapsulate my placenta and I can't even handle feeling it's head! I had a cold towel over my eyes, which was a godsend. I remember someone trying to take it off so I could see what was going on and I almost clocked them!

During this time and in-between contractions, the doctor was applying hot compresses and using oil to stretch the tissue that surrounded her head. Finally the doctor said with great conviction, "C'mon we have to get this baby out, it's time to meet your baby!" She then took the sheet and tied knots on either end. She gave one end to my sister, who took on the stance of a Strong Man competitor, and we played the most intense game of tug of war. I bore down while pulling that sheet so hard that when the contractions were over my hands were stuck around the knots and the nurses had to come and pry them off so I could 'relax'. Once the contractions started in again and I began to push, I felt like my head was going to explode. Literally explode. Forget about the thought of 'will my vagina ever be the same...will my face ever be the same?' The answer to that is no, well at least not until I can get a laser treatment to zap the broken capillary under my eye which later ensued.

Finally I thought to myself, on this next contraction, I am going to get this baby out! The fact that we didn't know whether it was a boy or a girl gave me the extra strength I think I needed. I just couldn't wait to find out! I felt it starting up, took a deep cleansing breath, and with every ounce of energy I had I PUSHED. Apparently the doctor was telling me to slow down and to stop, but I didn't hear a thing. Looking back I'm sure that she expected me to just push out the head, but I was not going to stop until I felt that entire little body leave mine. The baby shot out of me like a rocket! Then I heard the strongest cry. Thank you, God. My baby is here.

What is it? What is it? Joey was trying to get a glance, but first the sheet was in the way, then the umbilical cord..."It's a girl!" he shouted! The nurse placed my precious baby girl on my chest as I reached out for her. "My baby, my baby" I said as tears of joy rolled down my cheeks. At that moment time stood still. She looked up at me, eyes bewilderedly blinking. She was so calm, so content. We made it known at that point to the doctor that we wanted to delay the cord clamping until it no longer had a pulse. I overheard the nurse telling the doctor that she was going to hang the Pitocin and I quickly interjected that I did not want Pitocin. She looked at the doctor for approval, and the doctor said I didn't have to have it, but that she would have to press on my belly to deliver the placenta, which would be painful. Fine, I said, it couldn’t possibly be more painful than what I just went through. With just a few pushes on my belly, I then felt a contraction coming on. She told me to push once again, and then the placenta delivered. It had only been 5 minutes since the birth, so it was rather quick. The doctor then had me feel the cord to ensure me that it had stopped pulsating, and Joey cut it. I had torn during that last explosive push when she came out, so the doctor began to stitch me up. For me, the stitching was extremely uncomfortable. Actually, I'd rather have contractions all day then get stitched up. Apparently I had a second-degree perineal tear and several internal tears as well as a urethral skid mark. Yes, that's the actual medical name for such abrasion, and I'd never heard of it either. Awful.

Yet, this whole time I had this sweet little angel on my chest nuzzled up to me. I tried placing my hands under her little feet hoping she would do the crawl to my breast, but she was not interested. I asked the nurse if I should get her on my breast, and she said, "No, she's probably not hungry and that most babies weren't much interested in breast feeding so soon out of the womb." This is the exact moment I would do over if I could. I knew the importance of getting baby to breast right away. For whatever reason, though, it was as if I had no clue. I believe this to be a part of the problem we had in establishing breastfeeding in those first few days. Although now I am happy to say that we have been exclusively breastfeeding since day four of her life. Every day is an adventure, I love being a Mommy so much, and look forward to watching this little baby girl experience all the wonders of this beautiful thing we call life. Welcome to the world Lucky Luciana Herrera...

Christine aka Mommy