The Birth Story of Ella Grace
June 25, 2008 at 7:50 a.m.
7 lbs. 13 oz.
20 ½ inches
We arrived at the hospital at 5:30 a.m. on the 25th of June. I knew she was still in breech position, so we were there for a surgical delivery. We signed in and were shown to the pre-op/recovery room where we met our nurse. I went to change into a gown while Dave handled some admitting stuff and moved our car to the parking deck. While he was gone, the nurse shaved and scrubbed my belly and pubic area. He came back and sat with me while I got the IV in my hand and they did an ultrasound to check the baby’s position. Of course, she was still breech. The doctor stopped by for a few minutes to see if we had any questions, but at this point we pretty much knew what was going to happen.
The anesthesiologist came to start my epidural and Dave had to leave the room. This was the first time I used my hypnotic breathing to relax myself. The epidural was the scariest part for me. It’s a giant needle that is inserted within millimeters of the spinal cord. All kinds of things could go wrong – but they didn’t, praise the Lord. I had to sit up on the edge of the bed while he scrubbed my back, then they told me to lean forward and stick my back out. The nurse had warned me that this would be the hardest part because of my huge belly. She held my hands and I breathed four counts in and eight counts out the way I had been practicing for weeks. I leaned forward so far that they were amazed at how flexible I still was at 10 months pregnant (thanks to all the walking, I’m sure). I felt three little pricks as he numbed the area with a local anesthesia. Then he inserted the tube and put in the test dose of medicine – this is the dose they use to make sure that the needle is actually in the epidural space and not too close to the spinal cord. I had to tell him if I felt ringing in my ears or coldness or tingles in one side of my body; I felt none of those things. Then he said, “You are going to feel a tingle” and POW! An electric shock went down my right leg. I said, “That was more than a tingle!” The medicine was started and he taped up my back so the tube would stay in place. They helped me lie back in bed and I waited as my body started to go numb. He had explained to me that I would feel heavy and that it might feel like I couldn’t breathe, but I would still be breathing. I’m glad we talked about that part because when the numbness got to my chest I really felt like I couldn’t catch my breath. Feeling my body slowly go numb was one of the most bizarre feelings I’ve ever experienced. I did not like it at all. Periodically I had to try to move my toes and bend my knees, and it was just really disconcerting to gradually lose all control of my legs. The more numb I got, the more I shivered – it’s a side effect of the epidural that lasted an hour or so after the surgery was finished, though it was most intense at the beginning. They put warm blankets over me, but it didn’t help much. By the time I got to the operating room, maybe 30 minutes later, my jaw was tired and sore from clenching it against the shivers. I had to make a conscious effort to breathe deeply and relax my jaw, and that seemed to help the shivers some.
After my body was numb from the chest down, the nurse put in my catheter. This was the other thing I was really nervous about, but thanks to the epidural, I didn’t really feel anything. It took about two minutes and she was finished. I was pretty much ready to go, just waiting for them to roll me into the OR. Dave had his sterile outfit and had already put on his shoes and hat. They put a hat on me, too. I know he’ll forgive me for sharing this because he is that kind of man, but he was scared for me and crying before I even went in there. I kept telling him, “It’s going to be okay. I will be okay, the baby will be okay.” He saved the tissue that came with his gown so I can put it in the baby book.
When it was time, they rolled me into the OR and Dave had to wait until they told him to come in. They rolled my bed right up to the table and three people were there to transfer me to the operating table. I said, “This is going to be interesting.” They rolled me onto my side – with me feeling nothing and completely trusting that they would not drop me on the floor – and stuck a roller board under me. They then lifted and rolled me onto the operating table. As I lay there wondering if I was naked yet, because I couldn’t see past my chest, which would remain covered the whole time, I noticed that I could see myself in the mirrored part of the lights above me. I was indeed naked from the chest down. Amazingly, I didn’t even care. I just remember thinking, “I hope that curtain they put up blocks those lights because I’m not going to be able to stop myself from looking and I don’t want to see them cutting me open.” The curtain did block everything, though it fell at one point during the surgery and someone quickly caught it and put it back up.
They told me they were going to lean me to the left, and then they did – so far that I thought I might fall off the table. Then someone said, “You are wearing a seatbelt so you won’t fall off.” That’s good to know. The scrub nurse came in and scrubbed me while the nurse anesthesiologist got my arms positioned correctly and hooked me up to the monitors. I know that my blood pressure got a little low at some point because after the fact he said he would slow down my fluid drip since it was back up again. I don’t know how low it went, but I didn’t feel anything. I’ve always been told how cold it is in the OR, and it was, but I didn’t feel like I was freezing to death.
The doctors came in and they asked if I had someone coming with me and I told them that my husband was waiting outside. Someone got him and the minute he stepped into the room, the doctor said, “We’ve started.” Dave stood at my head and petted me and talked to me. He said to the nurse, “I want to watch him pull her out.” The nurse said, “You better stand up now, because she’s about to be born.” He couldn’t have been in the room more than five minutes at this point. He stood up and watched as the doctor pulled her out of my abdomen. He was crying and he said, “She looks like a chicken.” I started laughing, but then they held her up so I could see her. She was all pink and screaming and beautiful, and I said to Dave, “Oh my God, she looks just like you!” It was unbelievable how much the child looked like him.
At that point, they turned on the TV and took her to the warming table in the corner. Dave went with her to watch and take pictures as they wiped her off and weighed her. I was watching on the TV and crying while they sewed me up. Once she was all wrapped up, they brought her to me and put her on my chest so I could hold her. She stopped crying immediately and just looked at me. It was amazing. I heard them say her APGAR scores were 8 and 9 at birth and five minutes after. That means she was almost perfect when she was born. I cried and cried while I held her and talked to her. Too soon, they took her to the nursery to bathe her. Dave went with her to hold her up for the family to see and take pictures of her first bath. The doctors finished with me and the nurses transferred my back onto my bed. The whole process probably took 45 minutes, at the most.
When I got back to my cubicle in the recovery room, Dave and Ella Grace were already there waiting for me. They sat my bed up so I could see what the nurse was doing to her. Another nurse came to hook up my morphine pump and show me how to use it and when and how often. The baby nurse tested Ella’s sugar and it was well above the range they want to see for a healthy baby. I got to hold her and start nursing her right there. The nurse wasn’t available to help me with the nursing, so I just started on my own using the knowledge I had been storing up for months. She latched right on and nursed and nursed while we waited in recovery. The time seemed to fly and soon my nurse was getting me cleaned up so they could move me upstairs to my room. I got to ride in the bed and hold the baby in my arms while Dave and my nurse pushed us to our room on the second floor.
When we got up there, I met the nurse who would be caring for me during the day. Somehow, they got me into the regular hospital bed. I think I helped some, but I had to ask Dave later how I got into that bed. I had used my hands and arms to scoot my torso over while someone else moved my legs. I was all settled in with all my tubes and wires and most importantly, my baby. I had to have the IV, the catheter, and the leg cuffs for 24 hours. The leg cuffs were to prevent blood clots and they would inflate and deflate periodically – sort of like a blood pressure cuff but not as tight. I liked it at first because it felt good, but I was soon tired of them because my legs kept getting tangled up in the cords. Very soon, my room was flooded with family and I found myself able to allow Ella to be passed around. There were presents to open and the button on the morphine pump to push every ten minutes, so I was okay. By the end of the evening, I was so tired and loopy that I barely remember who came to visit me. I know at one point there were so many people packed in the room that they were standing single file. I can remember thinking to myself that all those people were there looking at me and talking about me and to me, and I couldn’t focus on anything.
Our stay in the hospital was great. I love Brookwood. The lactation nurses helped us through some difficulty in the beginning because Ella Grace was so sleepy, and by the time we left she was already regaining the weight she had lost. Breastfeeding is going very well at this point.
She is a week old today, and I can hardly believe it. We had a weight check this morning and she has gained an ounce and a half since we’ve been home – this is right on track for what they expect a breastfed baby to gain. We go back next week for another weight check and the second round of newborn screenings.
She is absolutely wonderful. Now that I have her, I can’t imagine my life without her. I didn’t know it was possible to love someone this much. It brings me to tears sometimes, and I’m not a crier.
God is so good. We have been so richly blessed with a beautiful, healthy daughter. My c-section experience and recovery could not have been any better. I know this is due to the all the prayers that so many people have been praying for us. Thanks to all of you for that.