Carson Patrick Oaks

WARNING: This is an extremely long post!

Monday, March 11, 2013 . . . what a day!  For the majority of March, I had been feeling contractions off and on and kept wondering if it was going to progress into anything.  Each day, Mark and I would get up and go on a walk to see if we could get them to be closer together or stronger.  Each day, nothing would happen and we would go on another walk in the evening.  So on Monday, I thought it would be another day, just like the others.

            I woke up around 7:00 am feeling like I hadn’t eaten in days.  I went and ate a big breakfast and then went back to bed until around 9:30.  When I got up, we decided to go on a walk, even though on this day, I wasn’t feeling any contractions.  We walked for about 2 miles and went home.  I felt really energized and decided that today I was going to get as much done as I could.  I had been meaning to clean the bathtub for quite some time.  It is a jetted tub, but we don’t ever use the jets so they get really gross.  So I put on some grubbies and sat down in the tub with a toothbrush and some bleach.  I scrubbed and scrubbed every inch of that tub.  By the time I was finished, I was pretty exhausted.  I went and lay on the couch for about an hour and then realized that I had never purchased hospital favors to hand out to our nurses and visitors.  I decided to make sugar cookies and decorate them really fun.  So, I made around 42 cookies in the shape of a foot.  I was going to decorate them with blue glaze frosting and write “Carson” on each one.  They were going to be cute!

(I finished them exactly one week later and took some to our nurses at the hospital.)

            Around 5:45 pm, I asked Mark to go to Baja Fresh to get us some dinner.  (I have been craving the Pork Carnita Ultimo for basically my whole last trimester).  So Mark left to go get that and I started on the frosting.  I had just finished mixing it and set the mixer down on the counter when I suddenly thought I had wet my pants.  I haven’t had any bladder control issues with this pregnancy so I was a little shocked.  I turned to go to the bathroom and all of a sudden it was gushing down my legs.  About this time, I realized my water had broke!  I was sitting in the bathroom when my phone rang.  It was Mark.  I answered and he said, “They didn’t have any Pork Carnitas.”  He was calling to tease me.  I responded by saying “My water just broke!”  His reaction, “Uh, okay.”  He thought I was teasing back.  I started laughing and said “I’m serious!”  I told him I needed to call the hospital though because it didn’t look right.  Amniotic Fluid is supposed to be clear and this was far from it.  I was a little worried.  I called and described everything to them to which they responded, it definitely sounds like your water broke, and the baby probably just had a bowel movement so there is meconiumn in the fluid.  They said I needed to hurry in and have it checked.  So, Mark scarfed down his burrito and put mine in the fridge while I finished packing my bags. 

            We got to the hospital around 6:30 pm.  They put us in a room and asked me to change into my hospital gown so they could check the fluid.  As I changed my clothes, I had another HUGE gush of liquid.  When the nurse saw this, she decided we definitely didn’t need to check it because it was my water, no mistake.  She had me lay down so she could check me and I was already dilated to a 4!  I was shocked because I still was not feeling any contractions.

            I had been making phone calls to all my family telling them that I thought my water had broke and so we started to confirm that by texting everyone that this was it.  My parents had already decided they were going to come, even if my water hadn’t broke.  (They would have been here in a few days regardless).   Mark’s dad jumped in the car and drove up from Mesa so he could be here, but Mark’s mom was in Colorado.  Everyone was so excited, but we were sad that more couldn’t be here.

            We got set up in an OB room, #1006, around 7:00 pm.  I was feeling great still, so I had Mark set up all my labor aids.  (For the past month or so, I had been beginning my naps while listening to a playlist I created consisting of some of my favorite songs and focusing on a picture of my baby boy still in the womb).  Around 8:30 pm, the nurse, Geraldine, came into the room and told us they were going to start me on Pitocin because we needed to hurry the labor along because of the meconium in the fluid.  I still wasn’t feeling any contractions at that point, but shortly after they started it, I was feeling them.  As I lay in bed listening to the music, I decided to write in my journal while it was all fresh in my mind.  Shortly after I finished writing, Lewis, my father-in-law, arrived.  He came into the room and we visited for a while.  The contractions started to get closer and closer as they increased the dose of Pitocin.  I was having contractions every 30 seconds, so the nurse decided to slow it down.  I was a little more comfortable after that because they were only 2 minutes apart so I was able to get a little rest in-between.

            Around 9:00 pm the nurse came and checked me.  She said I was dilated to a 6 and doing great.  I felt so in control and was breathing through the contractions with ease, but from that point on, it did become increasingly difficult to concentrate.  Around 12:15 am, I became terrified of the fact that I didn’t know what was coming.  I was still in control of the contractions, but I was scared of the unknown.  I started crying and told Mark I wanted an epidural.  He called the nurse and I begged her to call the anesthesiologist.  She told me that she didn’t think I needed it because I was still doing so well and controlling the situation so well.  I begged her again and she agreed to go make the call.  While she was gone, I cried really hard and told Mark I didn’t need one, but that I was too scared to keep going with out it.  At 12:40 am, she returned and asked me to sign the paperwork for the epidural.  I didn’t want to and asked if Mark could sign it for me.  She said I would have to sign it and then looked me directly in the face and asked if I really wanted her to make the call.  I was a little annoyed she hadn’t made the call, but decided she was right about me not needing the epidural.  I told her I decided not to do it and she told me she agreed with my decision.  She asked if I wanted to get into the shower.  That sounded so great.  She told me she wanted to check me first and then I could take a 15-minute shower.  She checked and I was dilated to an 8!  Now I was excited.  I got in the shower and drenched myself in cold water.  (I was so hot, I felt like I might pass out).  I sat down on the bench and just leaned back against the cold tile.  Then we cranked the heat.  I held the showerhead on the top of my stomach and just let the heat do the trick.  That was amazing!  I suddenly felt like the contractions were around the tolerance level from the time before I reached a 6.  I could breathe again!  And then, suddenly I had the strongest urge to push.

            I had to be back in bed by 1:00 am, by orders of my nurse, Geraldine.  We hurried and got me back to bed and I knew it was time.  I told her I needed to push and she said she would have to check me.  Sure enough, I was ready and being checked was the most uncomfortable thing I could imagine.  I felt like her entire arm was inside me and all I wanted to do was push everything out.  A few more nurses came in and they sat me up in bed.  We worked on pushing for a few minutes and then I asked for the birthing bar.  (I had wanted this to be part of my birthing plan from the beginning).  They set it up and I used that for a while, to let gravity do it’s trick.  Time kept passing and we weren’t getting anywhere.  The nurse said she wanted me to lie on my side because I was putting too much pressure on the baby.  So, I lay down on my right side and the pain was intense.  I pushed a few times and made some progress.  They switched me to the left and I made a little more progress.  At that point they said I could use the bar again, but this time we were going to use it differently.  They put a handle on the bar that looked like a tug toy for a dog.  They told me to put my feet on either side of the bar and grab the handles and pull.  Finally, I felt like I had found the right position.  I looked at the clock and it was well past 2:30 am.  I had been pushing for over an hour and half!  With each push, Mark was so supportive.  He kept telling me how great I was doing and that he was starting to see the head.  I started to wonder if he really could because I just kept pushing.  Then one of the nurses told me that I needed to make each of the 10 second pushes count.  I was doing great on the first, but really letting go on the last two.  This would make his head come down and then suck back up.  I was mortified because I was so tired at this point I couldn’t even hold my legs up anymore.  They were shaking so hard the nurses had to hold them still.

            And then, Nicol, a NICU nurse arrived and took control.  I remember thinking, “Who is this woman?  Is she the new doctor on call?”  She took control of the situation and knew exactly what to do to get me to push correctly.  She was so encouraging and we started to make real progress.  Suddenly, I looked at Mark, who was in tears, and he told me he could see the baby’s head and told me to look down.  I was sitting up so straight; I could actually see the top of his head.  I reached down and felt all that brown hair on his head and it finally it me that I could do this; that my baby was coming.  They called in the doctor, Dr Fernandez, around 3:10 am.  He was so encouraging, just like Nicol.  He kept his fingers right against the baby’s head, and wouldn’t let him suck back up like he had before when I had a hard time pushing.  I kept yelling at him to not do that because it hurt so badly.  He stayed so calm and would say, “I know it hurts, but it will only help.”  I felt like kicking him away, but yet I was so grateful for what he was doing.

            Finally, that moment arrived.  Everyone in the room told me it was the last push and that I was so strong.  I pushed with all I had and the doctor said, “Call it, 3:37 am!”  I looked down and I could see his little face.  The doctor had to unwrap the cord from around his neck, just once.  Then he told me to give one more big push.  I pushed and suddenly my beautiful baby boy was lying on my stomach.  Emotions washed over me and I knew he was mine.  I cried out, “oh my sweet baby, my beautiful baby,” over and over.  The doctor asked if “daddy” wanted to cut the cord?  Mark was so proud as he took his moment to cut the cord.  As he did the sweetest sound came from my sweet baby, a strong, but quiet little cry.  Then Mark told me he loved me and they took Carson to get cleaned up.  I told Mark I wanted him to go be with Carson, so he stepped aside to be with him.  The doctor told me I needed to give him one more tiny push and we would be done.  I felt like all I had left was to release the breath I had breathed in.  Luckily that was all he needed.  He delivered the placenta and stitched me up.  (I had a 2-degree tear, which I was totally unaware of at the time).

            While the doctor worked on me, I could see my sweet Carson just off to my right.  At this point he was screaming, which was still such a small sound, and it made me just smile.  I could hear everyone laughing as my baby kept peeing all over the place.  It was as if they couldn’t turn off the faucet.  The pediatrician checked him over to make sure he was as perfect as we all knew he was.  Then I heard them all say, “He is 7 pounds 11 ounces.”  I had prayed he wouldn’t be over 8 pounds because I wasn’t sure I would have been able to push him out if he had been.  I thought, “7, 11, that is perfect.”  Then Mark told me he was 19 ½ inches long and I thought that was perfect.  The pediatrician then held him up and told me to look over my shoulder and there he was, looking back at me.  I called his name and he stopped crying.  They wrapped him up and handed him to his daddy.  They looked into each other’s eyes for a long time and Lewis captured that special moment on camera.  Then, Mark brought him to me.  Emotions still sky high, I cried as he placed him in my arms.  He was perfect, and I knew it.

            Within a few moments, a nurse came and helped me to unwrap him and place him in my robe so we were skin to skin.  I could feel his little heart beat against my chest.  He was so warm and I instantly felt like I couldn’t love him more.  The first attempt at getting him to latch on was successful and he started to eat.  I nursed him for about 20 minutes and then he fell asleep.  I lay there, feeling him breathe, and thinking that our lives were complete now.  We were a family.