Rewind - Tuesday, September 11, 2012 Part III
(You can read Part I and Part II if you're behind.)
When the volunteer found me in the waiting room and told me to go back to J's room, J's brother and son were walking around . . . somewhere. I left his wallet, keys, and something else with the reception desk because I wanted to get back there with J as fast I could! I began the walk down (what felt like) the long hall to L&D. Having practiced this during our false alarm/dry run less than a week ago, I was thankful that I knew exactly where to go, how to get through the security process, and where J's room was. I lightly tapped on the door to room LD2 not sure what was going on from the other side.
As I entered, J was already in bed wearing a gown and monitors strapped across her belly. I learned that J was dilated to a 5. (Of course I texted that to DH who later told me he thought we'd be there forever since it took a week to go from a 4 to a 5. ha!) The nurse was there and was asking some basic admission questions. In her questioning, the nurse asked, "On a ten point scale, what is the maximum level of pain you would be willing to endure?" J replied, "Oh . . . 7 or 8." The nurse then replied, "Okay," as she continued to enter the information and then asked, "And at what number are you right now?" I was confused when J replied, "TEN." All I could think was that either J was confused or she was really keeping it together with that kind of pain. I soon told J, "If you need me to step out, just say the word. You won't hurt my feelings." She let me know everything was fine and asked me to stay. Remember, it was just her and I - nobody else. We were in this together for now.
Although the entire staff was aware of the adoption plan, the nurse asked, "Soooo . . . are you guys friends?" J and looked at each other and giggled our responses in unison, "Yes." Then the nurse said, "Did you just meet?" We laughed again and said, "Well, kinda!" It was so strange and so amazing how comfortable we were.
I could hear our baby's heartbeat on the monitor and read that J was having pretty regular and fairly strong contractions. However, having been in three deliveries in years past, I knew she wasn't "there" yet. We sat back and I fed her ice chips. We chatted a little bit and both texted people - including A (agency owner) - to keep them updated. Mr. Rambler was still at school and (in my opinion) suspended in disbelief that this was really happening. He tried to line up a sub, get plans ready, communicate to his administration, and waited for my next update before heading to the hospital. The night before, I made a few lists for him of things to get from the house whenever "the day" finally came. I still laugh knowing my gut had me in mommy-mode the night before our baby girl arrived. :)
Around 9:30ish, I asked J if she'd like a cold cloth for her head. As I went in to the very tiny bathroom and wet the washcloth, I looked at myself in the mirror and shook my head in disbelief. I might actually become a mommy today and the precious young woman on the other side of that wall was the reason. Was this really happening? Was this real? Was this yet another time I thought I was having a baby and got nothing but empty arms? Would my heart be broken? Did I look any different? Setting the wet cloth on J's head, I stroked her hair asked her how she was doing and told her to try to rest if she could. Knowing very little about her history, I began thinking that it was a strong possibility nobody ever really did that for her when she was young. I felt a mix of feelings of love that I would have for a friend, sister, niece or daughter. It truly hurt my heart to think that she may not have gotten the love and care that I was so blessed to have from my mom, and it solidified my maternal instinct to take care of J as best I could if she'd let me. Before things progressed any further, I held J's hand and said, "I'm here for you but if I do or say anything you don't like, tell me. If you want me here, I'll stay. If you want me to leave, I'll leave. You will NOT hurt my feelings. I want to make sure you are comfortable and okay."
After J was fairly relaxed, I asked if she'd like for me to go get her brother so they could spend some time together. He is a handful of years younger than J but very protective and caring of her. Leaving my purse as my own subconscious collateral to return, I went to the waiting room and took J's son for a while. Ahhh, the energy of a 2 1/2 year old! He ran me ragged! This was the first time I had spent 1:1 with him, and I kept thinking, "Wow. I'm playing with my baby's half-brother!" We ran down the halls, stopping to play at every water fountain. I herded him away from the open area gift shop, trying to keep him out of all the fun toys. We sat on the steps below the nursery window. We raced (and I *let* him win). My mind was half with him and half with J, and I wondered what was happening back there and what would happen next. How would all of this go down? When would A be here? Would DH be here soon? I was jolted from my thoughts when Little Man looked through the doors down towards L&D and said, "Mama?" I told him that she was okay and seeing the doctor to make her tummy better. I had no clue what to say but he seemed okay with it! After what
Entering the room again, I could see by the look on J's face that she was hurting. No IV lines were in place and her arm was free of any tubes. Again, I stroked her hair, flipped over her cool cloth, and asked the nurse when she could get drugs. The phrase of the day was, "We have been so busy" and we were told the anesthesiologist was on the way. I wanted J to get some relief from pain because the emotional pain had to be hard enough. The nurse asked if J wanted her to do an exam, upon which we learned that she was dilated to 8 or 9cm. Holy crap - we were almost there. I texted DH and told him to hurry. (We live an hour from the hospital, so the term hurry was very relative.) Her water hadn't yet broken but the nurse felt the bag of water in front of the baby's head. Soon, various people started coming in the room. Docs/nurses from the nursery checked on the warmer, another nurse rolled in a sterile table, someone else rolled in a light and another cart and goodness knows what else. I stayed kneeling by J's bed. We were running out of room, but I wasn't moving unless I was told to do so.
By 10:30ish, J was in definite pain with no anesthesiologist in sight. I asked for drugs for around probably the fourth time. (For those wondering, I asked for drugs for J not me!) The nurses said, "Well, she doesn't have an IV in yet." WTH? I calmly said, "Can someone start one? She is really hurting." They finally took that as more than a hint and poor J dealt with really strong contractions while nurses tried to keep her arm still and set the IV. About 10:45 the nurse gave her 50mg of Demerol to take the edge off before the real drug man arrived. Around then J said, "I need to get up." (Huh?!) "I need to get up and go to the bathroom." she said. Wellll, having been a labor & delivery coach to a couple of friends I knew what that meant. I asked, "Do you need to pee or poop?" When J said it was the latter, I shot a look to the nurses who began snapping on gloves in a heartbeat. The 2-3 nurses looked at one another and the lead nurse quietly said to the others, "We may need to do this." Holy crap! Where was the doctor? Where in the hell was the drug dude?? This baby was coming no matter who was there to catch.
J then screamed and yelled, "I need to push!" The nurse dropped the end of the bed and got her up in the stirrups for a quick check. It was time but the doctor was not yet in the hospital. (Insert phrase of the day about being crazy busy here.) The doctor was on the way, so just "hold on" was what we heard. The nurses told J not to push yet and to focus on her breathing. At that point, I put my hand out to J and said, "Squeeze whenever you need to as hard as you need to. You won't hurt me." (Yeah, I was just praying she wouldn't hurt me!) We interlaced our fingers and she began to squeeze. I was blowing light puffs of air on her cheek to pace her breathing. The nurse placed an oxygen mask on her face, and I held it in place since there seemed to be no time to strap it around the back of her head. I told J over and over again that I was there, she was doing so great, and I was so proud of her. It was so surreal that she was getting ready to deliver this baby without drugs and (hopefully) let us take that little gift home.
At this point, it was about 10:50 or so with no doctor and no anesthesiologist in sight. There was no turning back now and no drugs to come either. I couldn't believe it. J began screaming while the nurse and I tried to focus her on breathing. She said, "I have to push," to which the nurse replied, "No. You can't push." Seriously?? The LVN was literally holding J's knees together like that was going to stop it. J then yelled, "You don't understand!!!!" I thought, "Geez. With several women in here right now, I'm sure that I'm not the only who hasn't had a baby before and STILL knows that she needs to push!" A minute later, a doctor walked in and introduced herself. She said J's doctor was on the way, but if she wanted to push that would be okay. (gosh, thanks) The doctor began to get on her gloves and gown when J said, "My water just broke." The nurse then said, "We have mec." I knew it was meconium and looked down to the chuck (pad) below J. Thankfully it was a very small amount (two spots maybe the size of a quarter) & was light in color. This was good since it can be unsafe for the baby to aspirate mec during delivery. The nurses elevated the bed and I scrambled to find a stool since I had been on my knees at her bedside this whole time. Luckily there was a stool on wheels since J still had a strong lock on my hand and I was still holding her oxygen mask! I continued to breathe with her and reassure her how wonderful she was as I sat down.
J pushed once and took a breather. That's when her doctor entered the room. J pushed again. Her doctor finally got into place. J pushed a third time which delivered the head. While I was a little torn on where to maintain my focus, I kept it on J while hoping there was a lifetime ahead of me to focus on the baby. With another push, our baby was here. I saw only her tiny, smooth, little back as the doctor pulled her out and they took her to the warmer. We both held our breath waiting to hear the cries of this precious angel. A little cry came out and it was as if we collectively exhaled in relief. I stayed with J while the doctor had to manually extract the placenta. I tried to look at the baby in the warmer but a monitor completely blocked my way. I couldn't see her but could hear her small, beautiful cries come sporadically from the corner on the other side of the bed.
The nurse suddenly asked us, "Is it a boy or a girl?" J and I both stopped breathing again and I (thinking of the plethora of pink things that had been taking over our home) said, "It *should* be a girl!" J quickly followed up with, "Yes. Will someone please check?!" The nurse quickly checked and responded with, "Yes. It IS A GIRL!" Whew!
J looked into my eyes and with a big smile, she stole my heart by saying,
"Your little girl is here."
Part IV coming very soon . . . . . . .