Dear Kayleigh,
Three weeks ago at this time, a nurse was telling me that the pain I was feeling wasn't contractions. "If you're still smiling, there's no way you're having contractions."
But I was, and five hours later, you were born. I was just too excited to be so close to meeting you. Pain just couldn't keep the smile from my face.
What a journey we had getting you to enter the world! I'm so thankful for how everything went...in the end, it turned out being much smoother than I anticipated.
On Sunday night, September 25th, Daddy and I went out for our last
meal together before you were born. I had to fast for the induction, so I knew that dinner was the last thing I'd get to eat until I was holding you in my arms.
It was funny to tell our server at the restaurant that we were heading to the hospital to have our baby that night. That certainly got a reaction :-) She even brought us a birthday dessert--for you and me, since our birthdays would either be a day apart or on the same day.
Before we left for the hospital that night, I cried. Suddenly, with our bags all around us in the middle of our bedroom, I realized that my husband and I would be bringing a new family member home with us. And how could I love anyone as much as I love him? Daddy will always be my first love, but as soon as you were born, I understood that the love in my heart didn't have to be split between two people. It multiplied to have the capacity to love you with all my heart, and love my husband twice as much as I already did. Isn't love amazing?
When we got to the hospital, we met Jenny, our night nurse. She was a no-nonsense mothering type who actually sat and visited with us for an hour before giving me the induction medication. Here it was, 1:30 in the morning, and she was giving us parenting advice when all I wanted to do was curl up and fall asleep! We told her how you had gone transverse a few weeks ago and how we had done everything we could to flip you around again so that we wouldn't have to do a c-section. Jenny leaned in and told us that the doctor who would be on deliveries that day was "c-section happy" and would use any excuse to do one. "Unless something is really wrong, you hold your ground. You're a grown woman, and you can tell a doctor 'no,'" She said.
Around 2:15, she finally gave me a cup of water and a pill, hooked me up to heart rate and blood pressure monitors, and then closed the door behind herself. Dad pulled the couch close to my bed, and he held my hand while we both tried to get some sleep. By 3am, the medicine was kicking in and the pain was keeping me awake. By 4am, the pain was making me throw up. Jenny came back in at 7am to see how I was doing, and that's when she told me that if I was still smiling, I wasn't having contractions. "Those are just cramps," She said, "When you have a contraction, you'll know you're having a contraction!" Not very comforting...
The nurses switched around 7:30, and then we met Carolyn, our day nurse. She was so sweet and cheerful. She asked what your name would be, and wrote it on a dry-erase board near my bed so that we could see it and remember how close we were to meeting you.
At 8:30, I realized that Daddy hadn't left my side since I was admitted at 1am, and he must be getting hungry. I told him that I was fine and that he could go to the cafeteria and get something to eat. While he was gone, Dr. Morales came in to check me for the first time. Carolyn offered to hold my hand while he examined me, and when Dr. Morales said that I was 3 centimeters dilated and completely effaced, Carolyn squeezed my hand, jumped in the air, and said, "I'm so happy for you!" I loved her to bits!
Right away, Dr. Morales broke my water and said that we could start the epidural. I quickly texted Dad to let him know the good news and to ask him to come back for the epidural. Needles give me the willies.
Dad came back with the biggest smile on his face. Neither of us had expected things to move so quickly. I had been afraid that I wouldn't progress at all without pitocin, and here we were, well on our way to having our baby!
The anesthesiologist, a small, kind man with a heavy accent, came in. Within minutes, the gut-wrenching contractions subsided until they were barely noticeable. Sweet relief! The difference in the level of pain made me think, "Wow! If I had an epidural every time, we could have 20 kids!" (Don't worry...I changed my mind!)
I felt so good that I was able to close my eyes and take a much-needed nap. I hadn't slept since Sunday morning, so I was pretty tired.
45 minutes later, though, painful contractions woke me up. I was confused. Wasn't that not supposed to happen with an epidural? Carolyn called the anesthesiologist back in, and he checked the iv and decided to administer another vial of the drug. "It must be because you are so tall," He commented as he fidgeted with something behind me. That second vial didn't help, either, and he kept coming back in to administer more. All in all, he gave me five doses of the stuff. We were all confused about the ineffectiveness of the epidural until I tried to get more comfortable in bed. I accidentally hit Carolyn as I tried to grab the bed rail to shift myself. "I'm so sorry," I apologized. She just looked at me and said that I hadn't hit her...I had whacked myself in the leg. It was then that I realized that I couldn't feel my right leg. At all. Guess where all of the epidural medicine had gone?
What a strange feeling it is to be in pain everywhere except for one leg! It was completely dead. I couldn't move my toes or lift my leg at all. So much for the epidural! (But you know what? It's empowering to know that I did it. I don't think I'll ever turn down an epidural when it's offered to me, but knowing that I can give birth without an effective epidural makes me feel like a bit of a superwoman!)
At 11:30, I was 5 cm dilated. By 12:30 when Carolyn checked me again, she nearly fell over. "No wonder you were in so much pain," She said, "You're at 10 cm! You just made 5 cm in an hour!" With that, she said that I was ready to push. She had me push three times, and then realized that you were coming so fast that she needed to call the doctor and let him know we were ready. Dr. Morales was delivering another baby, so we had to wait.
At one point, when Carolyn checked me, she said, "I can see Kayleigh's head! It looks like you're going to have a bald baby!" Dad and I were surprised. We both have so much hair; we hadn't expected you to be bald! We laughed though and told Carolyn that you must be following in your Aunt Laura's footsteps (she was bald until she was three years old!) At one point, though, we heard her say, "Oh, wait! Those are eyebrows! Your baby is coming forehead first!"
Forehead first. Oh, Kayleigh, you little trouble maker! First you decide to try the transverse thing, and then you make up your mind that you want to enter the world face up, seeing everything you can. (We still love you!)
When Dr. Morales came in at 12:55, Carolyn told him that you were brow presenting in the anterior position. Immediately, he came to me and said, "We may need to do a c-section. I'm going to have the OR get ready." And Kayleigh, just then, I was the most strong-willed I may have ever been. I told him no. "If nothing is wrong with the baby or me, I want to proceed naturally. I didn't go through 11 hours of labor just to give up in the end," I told him. Dad squeezed my hand with a, "You go, girl!" look in his smile.
The doctor backed down, and we started to push. Even now when I think back to it, I can't believe I really did that. You came out of my body. What a miracle.
Your dad was the perfect birthing coach. He was so encouraging the whole time. It was the most amazing experience we've been through together.
20 minutes later, we were holding you in our arms. Our precious Kayleigh Grace.
My heart overflows as I think back to the first moment we held you. All of our love, physically represented in one tiny bundle. There is so much love shared between the three of us, Kayleigh Girl. I hope you always feel it.
There you were, 8 lbs, 6 oz, and a ton of curly hair. Were they ever wrong about you being bald!
Since you were born "brow presenting," you came out with a forward-facing conehead. We called you our little unicorn. It went away within a few hours of your birth, but the bruises and scrapes on your face from your awkward face-up journey didn't. Poor baby. But you couldn't have been more beautiful to us.
After all of these months of waiting, so many nights spent in prayer for your health and growth, so many days of dreaming what life would be like once you arrived...you are here. Our sweet Kayleigh Grace. We love you so much!
