On December 9, 2013 I went to the doctor for what would be the last time. I was 39 weeks by the calculation of my initial due date, but when the sonographer measured my fluid level, I was more like 41 weeks. Which was about right. I had an ultrasound and everything looked great. The only problem we had was that the baby was estimated to be almost 10 pounds! I knew what that was going to mean and I cried the minute the woman said it. She started to worry that she had upset me and was trying to tell me that was good news. Peter was a big, healthy boy! However, I managed to squeak out that I did not want to deliver a 10 pound baby like some woman on the discovery channel before being quickly escorted from the room.
The real reason I was upset was because I knew my doctor did not want me to deliver the baby vaginally (sorry everybody, there is no other way to say that) if he was estimated over 9 pounds and I had not made a lot of movement on the dilation/effacement front (again, sorry). Jake and I went upstairs and I was bracing myself for a fight. I wanted to deliver the baby and not have a C-section. However, when I got checked there had been absolutely no movement and it turns out, I had been given an overestimation of change the last two times I had been to the doctor. I was miffed. He took us into his office and we had a good discussion.
Let me stop here and say that I love my doctor. I trust him. I also have worked on several cases and studied many lawsuits involving OBGYNs. I knew the stats. He quickly advised I needed to have this baby ASAP. In fact, he said if I had not had lunch, he would have taken him that afternoon. I knew why he was advising us to have the section. I knew that more "granola" people would have shouted him down that the "baby is too big" and the "no change" in d/e reasons were not good enough to not try to deliver Peter myself. My doctor fully supported me trying to deliver Peter, but he advised us that he just did not see that happening. He thought the most likely scenario was that I would be induced, labor for a long time and still have to have the c-section. After talking through it and what the surgery would mean for me recovery wise and with future pregnancies, Jake and I decided to do it.
Looking back I am so glad we did, but I'll get to that.
After the doctor's visit, I was pretty upset. We made calls to our families to let them know we had scheduled Peter's birth for the next day. In an awful twist, Jake's dad was on a plane to New York (we had no idea) thankfully with a layover in Atlanta, so when we got him on the phone he had to turn around and come back for the big day. Everybody was excited. I thought I was going to throw up. I made a few more calls and then we decided to go out for a last meal. We wanted to take a picture at the restaurant, but did not. However, for your viewing entertainment, please find the only solo picture of me pregnant taken the night before the big day. I say solo, but Yazoo is also pictured:)
Now I had never been in the hospital before. Never broke an arm or had stitches. Nothing. So my calm demeanor started to deteriorate as things became more real. They did blood work, an IV, a catheter and then we waited. I did a lot of crying and Jake made a lot of bad jokes in an effort to get me laughing. Honestly, the worst part of the actual prep or procedure itself is the catheter. The spinal was nothing. Once I was wheeled back and got the numbing juice I didn't feel a thing. None of the dreaded pulling or pushing. However, the one thing about the section I did not like was that when they pulled Peter out the spinal got pushed up and I could not swallow. Scared me to death.
Once Peter was out and I knew he was okay, I completely spaced. I wish I could say the heavens opened up and I was consumed with love for my child, but the truth is, I really don't remember much about seeing Peter. I remember being very worried and asking about him. I remember Jake teary eyed. I remember the doctor showing him to me and that's about it. We actually have a lot of pictures and I don't remember any of them. Peter supposedly peed on me and I do not remember. What I remember most after the delivery was freaking out about not being able to swallow and wishing the doctor would hurry up.
After they wheeled Peter to the nursery, the anesthesiologist started pushing Demerol and everything went even more hazy. I don't remember the rest of the day. I vaguely remember skin to skin with Peter and nursing him for the first time. I kind of remember seeing my parents and Jake's parents. That's it. The next real thing I remember is the next morning when the night nurse woke me up to take the dreaded catheter out and to force me to go to the bathroom.
When I was much more lucid I found out that the umbilical cord had been wrapped around Peter's neck and that his head was not positioned correctly. In fact, my doctor told me that his head was at such an angle that he very likely could have choked if I had tried to deliver him and if my doctor had allowed it once he realized the cord was wrapped around him. So the "too big" section was actually a big blessing!
All in all, I don't regret the section. Its not what I wanted, it was a very hard recovery, but it was what was best for Peter.
When I get a minute, I am going to do a whole other post on Peter's first month, newborn pictures and my initial thoughts on motherhood. Spoiler alert: breastfeeding is the hardest thing I have ever done.
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