The day I became a Momma

I've noticed that as time passes, I start to forget details about many moments in motherhood. It's natural but I wanted to take a moment to document my experience becoming a mother. I was thrilled to be pregnant with Isabelle! It was a long, difficult road just to become pregnant. When I found out, I was shocked and so nervous to do anything for the entire pregnancy. I wouldn't even let myself have soda or cold meats or allergy meds. To compound my neurosis, Isabelle had an irregular heartbeat so I had many, many appointments and ultrasounds so the doctors could monitor her. I loved being able to see her so often and it helped calm my nerves that my doctors were so diligent. We wanted to be surprised about the sex of the baby so that was a chore for all the doctors and specialists to keep it a secret. As you can guess, the irregular heartbeat made the pregnancy higher-risk. So, near the end, my blood pressure was very high for me. They told me to stop working and get off my feet. Of course, my blood pressure was great after that!

My sister came to stay with us near my due date and I became violently ill. It was awful and my poor sister had to hang out when I couldn't hold any food down and couldn't do anything. Then, there was the false alarm where John and I went to the hospital and they sent us home. I had Braxton-Hicks contractions throughout the 2nd-3rd trimesters and when you've never been in labor before you have no idea what to expect. But, you do feel like an idiot when they send you home from the hospital and you are overdue. My doctors allowed me to go two weeks beyond my due date because of Isabelle's heartbeat and because I wanted to have the "natural" experience. HA! On my last appointment, Isabelle's heartbeat was normal. Her heart had healed/finished growing in the irregular valve. We were also told that the baby was going to be larger than 10 pounds. I got dizzy and had to sit down on the way out. I believe John laughed or maybe he didn't have to for me to have some choice words.

The next morning, a nurse called and said to come to the hospital to be induced. I will never forget that car ride. You know your life is going to change in a way you can't truly imagine. I will also never forget the car ride to my wedding for the same reason. We arrived at the hospital, checked in and went to our birthing suite. We had our cards and some movies (Scarface...he he). We were giggly and excited and scared. They started me on pitocin and the contractions began. We had fun playing cards for awhile and the nurses kept increasing the dosage until I could no longer concentrate on anything but the pain. At one point, I snapped at John and said, "women who want to do this naturally and f*&%ing crazy." Not my finest moment but it sure made him laugh. I didn't want to be immobile for the labor so we did all the suggested walking, ball squats, shower, etc. and I delayed the epidural. After several hours, I was told that I was on the maximum dose of pitocin and with the contractions as intense and close together that I should be full dilated. That's when I knew it was ok to ask for the pain doctor. I knew if I waited too long, I may not get him. Plus, the doctors thought if I had some pain relief maybe I would make more progress.

The anesthesiologist was horrible. The drugs were great but he was not. By then, we were in the late night shift. He had my nurse answer his cell phone while he was putting the needle in my back and she held it up to his ear so he could talk. The nurse was supposed to be helping me through the horrible contraction I was having and keeping me still. Instead she was helping the doctor with his phone call. And, it's a little hazy but I'm pretty sure we were appalled about his conversation. He had messed up the dosage with another patient and now he has a needle in my back. Thankfully, he didn't paralyze me. Soon after the shot, my arms started to go numb so they were constantly adjusting the dosage and at one point turned it off completely. I had been in labor for about 14 hours when I told John to go get a "real" meal and I would try to rest. The doctors had already switched shifts and when she came in to talk to me John was gone. We had been told because of the size of the baby, they may have to break her collarbone to get her out. John and I were very worried about that possible outcome. And, if the labor didn't progress the baby may simply be too big and then we could have an emergency situation. My doctor said that she couldn't continue with the pitocin at that level for much longer and I wasn't progressing so she believed it was time to go forward with a c-section. I agreed and the pitocin was ordered to be turned off (it wasn't but the epidural was). They paged John and started to wheel me out of the room and I started vomiting. I was terribly nervous and they make you drink a horrible liquid to keep you from vomiting and choking during the surgery.

John returned not having heard the page but in time to be dressed for the operating room. I kept telling the nurse that I was feeling the contractions strongly but there was some apparent confusion between her and the anesthesiologist. Anyways, they separated John and I so they could prep for the section. Being strapped down to the table was a horrible, powerless feeling and I was still contracting. My doctor figured out right away when she came into the operating room that something was off. My nurse was reprimanded and excused. John came in and held my hand like he did during our wedding. He's my rock. The surgery began and the pain was unbelievable. I let out a guttural scream and John says my eyes rolled back in my head. I was given a heavy dose of valium immediately and the surgery waited until I passed some more pain tests. Finally, I felt her be lifted out and I heard her strong cry. The most beautiful cry in the world and I was so relieved and happy. My tears were the definition of tears of joy. There was a consensus that she had quite a pair of lungs on her and she still does!

John was able to see her bathed and measured. He brought her to me and she had the most beautiful, tiny pink face. She was perfect. Everyone was commenting on how big a baby she was but to me she looked like the tiniest person I'd ever seen. There was meconium in the waters so she was taken to the nursery for a bit and had some tests while I went to recovery. If you have never had a baby, let me warn you that after the birth the nurses will push down on your uterus every 15 minutes for an hour to an hour and a half to help it go back where it belongs. Be prepared. If your nurse isn't good, it hurts like you can't believe. I've gone through it twice and the second time it was no big deal. But after Isabelle's birth, I was ready to hurt that nurse if she touched me again.

I was taken to my hospital room and about 2-3 hours after I had Isabelle, I was able to hold her for the first time. It was somewhere around 5 am and I couldn't stop staring at her. I wouldn't let her sleep in the nursery. I didn't care how tired I was. I wouldn't let her out of my sight. To this day, I am in awe of the fact that she is actually my daughter. I did wonder after a few months when her parents were going to come get her because it was an exhausting babysitting job. It took awhile to completely comprehend that I am her momma and it's on me to care for her and be there for her forever. I'm honored to have the best job in the world.

Isabelle Erin, 6/24/2008, 9 lbs. 8oz.