Jackson Christopher.

Dear Jackson,

Please don't scare your Mom and Dad like that again. Thanks.

Love,

Mom

Some of us planners and others of us are more flexible, more go-with-the-flow-ers.  I would like to say I am flexible, but the reality is that I am a planner.  I like to have all my ducks in a row early.  I like to know what to expect and when. If Jackson has taught me anything, it's to hell with all your planning!

The last few weeks of pregnancy were filled with hopeful anticipation, nervousness for his well being, and things to keep me busy.  I worked up until my due date, kept up with mowing the lawn each week, was able to complete the gardening and mulching (with Chris' help), and walks. We walked everywhere.  While nothing I did help to bring out labor on its own, it at least helped me feel more like me

The plan was to be induced on Wednesday if nothing had progressed by then.  By that point I would have been 5 days post due (by ultrasound dating, if you went by last menstrual cycle I would have been 2 weeks post due).  Also, my doc was on so if I wanted her there, Wednesday was the plan.  I was supposed to call Tuesday after 2 to find out when the birthing center wanted me in. My anticipation was for after dinner since that was what I was previously told to expect. Apparently, they wanted me there sooner as the birthing center had called and left a message with me before 2.  When I called them back I was not expecting them to ask if we could be there in an hour. Thus tears. I held it together for the actual phone call, but once I hung up I just cried. I was not ready for this.  Either way, we wrapped things up at home, said goodbye to the four-legged-kids and left for the hospital.

My mom was kind enough to meet us in the lobby and walk up with us. Being part of Infection Control she made sure everyone washed their hands or at least used Purell. When we got there we were shown the room and given a "tour" which involved- this is your room and here's the kitchen with all the clear food/drinks you are allowed to eat once in labor. Then some of the doctors and nursing staff came in had be put on a gown started to go over what to expect while strapping me in with both a fetal heart rate monitor and a contraction monitor.  They also added an IV line since I would need it the next day for the Pictocin, or as Chris calls it, the gobabygo drugs.

That night consisted of Chris and I playing multiple games of Cribbage, watching hockey and me needing to page the nurse every time I needed a potty break. They also started me on Penicillin IV every 4 hours. Let me tell you that Penicillin SUCKS when given IV. I had to cover the catheter site with heat packs in order to tolerate the pain. The nursing staff would come in occasionally to check monitors, ask if I was experiencing contractions, to which I would say "i dunno, maybe?" and take vitals.  Other than that it was a fairly unexciting night. At one point in the middle of the night some of the staff came in rather quickly and asked me to roll over.  Apparently my baby was being "naughty" and his heart rate had dropped, but it fixed itself once I changed position.

The next morning Chris and I had ordered breakfast and then my doc came in and started to explain the game plan for today. My body still had not made any progress towards wanting to really start labor so we were even discussing the option of giving us a cut-off point and then calling it quits and wait till my body either figured it out or wait for another week when my doc would be on again, but that would be the latest anyone would have been comfortable letting me wait. However, as we were discussing this the nurse casually was catching my doctor's attention as my baby's heart rate began to plummet again.  Apparently, he did not want me to go home. They tried flipping me and that wasn't working, then came out the oxygen mask and they hooked me up to IV fluids. Fortunately, with 30 seconds to spare he changed position enough to allow his heart rate to come back up.  My doc then explained to me that they are given 5 minutes of "naughty time" after which it is an emergency c-section time. Just to be safe, my doc had me sign a consent form anyway in case one was needed. We still forged on ahead and started the Pictocin. I never got to eat my breakfast as they put me on a clear diet just-in-case.

Most of the morning was non-eventful. Baby behaved himself for the most part. The doctors would come in and check me every so often with still very little progress. The conversation came back up about maybe going home. My doc was a little reluctant but was will to humor me as long as he behaved the rest of the day.

I forgot the hour, but at one point things began to kick in. I was definitely having contractions and while at first they were rather sporadic and hard to say if they were coming at even intervals, they eventually started to come every 2-3 minutes.  At this point my body was starting to realize labor was happening and I went from 3 to 5 to 7 in a matter of about 2 hours.

Contractions, by the way, suck! They were kicking my ass.  I tried to pee almost every hour but then I would just sit on the potty  breathing through three more contractions each time. I tried standing and swaying and hugging Chris. I tried hunching over the bed.  In the end I would just lay on my side and try to breath long and hard through each one. People could talk to me as long as they didn't really need me to pay attention. My original plan was go sans epidural, but when the contractions were kicking my butt and it was looking like I still had another 12+ hours to go I started to panic that I wasn't going to make it.  I started off by asking for IV pain meds, but because of my baby's heart rate issue my doc didn't feel comfortable giving them to me.  The only thing she would ok would be the epidural since it doesn't affect the baby. I talked to my mom, who at this point came by to offer support, and Chris and I caved. My ass was being kicked.

This is where things get fuzzy for me. I remember trying to change positions to ease up the contractions while trying to make the choice about the epidural.  While I was trying to settle down and breathe through one a nurse and my doctor came in  to adjust the sensors. I knew they were coming because I could hear it.  Through every contraction I was trying to stay calm and breathe through, I could hear my baby's heart rate drop.  Now my doc wanted to put a probe on the baby to get a better idea of what was going on. When the heart rate wasn't recovering during the contractions my doc discontinued the Pictocin. Not something we really wanted to do, but baby needed a chance to recover.  Unfortunately (?) by that point my body had figured out it should be in labor and my own hormones were driving the process. Then they tried injecting saline into the cord or amniotic sac (again, my memory is real hazy here), but that didn't do the trick either. They then gave me an injection of Torbutaline to try to stop the contractions all together.  It may have helped but I couldn't tell.  They kept coming and coming hard.

Meanwhile the anesthesiologist had also come in and started to go over the information regarding the epidural. She was real nice and would wait and help coach me through each contraction before she would continue. I needed that extra help because it was hard to try to relax through them when I could hear my baby's heart rate plummet further through each one. Out of the corner of my eye I could also see the look on my doctor's face and the nurse as they were silently  communicating to each other.  The anesthesiologist could hear what was going on as well and then started asking me questions in regards to intubation and general anesthesia. The plan was changing and it was a good thing I had already signed the emergency c-section consent form. I would never get that epidural.  All of a sudden there were a million people in there ripping wires off the wall putting on masks and hairnets and wheeling the bed out of the room.

I was whisked away into their OR and was transferred over to the surgical bed as I was trying to work through another contraction. I was scared to put it lightly. I was disconnected from the beeping of my baby's heart beat and didn't like not knowing how he was doing. As soon as I was on the surgical table I saw a team run in and get ready, felt them slather something on my belly (Betadine I am assuming) and put an oxygen mask over my face.  My doctor made sure she made eye contact with me, which helped me relax some and nurse Julie that had been with me all day squeezed my hand.  After that someone told me to take two deep breaths. I recognized the Propofol in their hand and then I was out.

This was the beautiful result of the frightful afternoon

Jackson Christopher was born 5/22 @ 6:27pm. He weighed 6lbs 15oz, 21 1/4" long

I woke up in their recovery area, tears streaming down my face.  Where was my baby?  Where was my husband?  Was my baby ok?  The treatment staff kept telling me congrats and that he was ok.  They would ask his name and I would tell them.  However, he was still not real to me. It was like revealing the name to my imaginary friend (that was aggressively ripped out of me).

Later on I was brought to what would become my room for the next 3 days. I eventually cried myself back to sleep as I waited for my husband to show up and to eventually see my baby. My husband eventually found me and his eyes said it all. Jackson was not only ok, he was perfect.  I had to wait a tortuous 3 hours before I would be able to see him for myself.

It is amazing how much bigger your heart can grow to accommodate the overwhelming love you have for your baby. He was perfect and healthy.  Apparently he came out screaming, which causes the doctors to pause and wonder if this was the right choice.  The umbilical cord was not only wrapped around his neck but it was wrapped around his head as well and most likely what was happening was that every contraction would pinch it off.  The further down in the pelvic canal he went, the easier for the circulation through the cord to be cut off.  While a c-section was not in my plan, I believe it was the right choice.  I did not want to have to be induced, but if I had tried to labor at home we would not have caught that something was wrong until possibly too late, so in the end it was good that I was induced and had all those monitors strapped to me.  Nothing went by how my dream plan would have gone, but the end result couldn't have been better. I have a healthy baby boy.

We're parents now.

For those that missed it, here is my husband's account: http://latetothepartymoviereviews.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-miracle-of-life.html