Her Grand Entrance

At long last, here is Presley's birth story. The short version is--my water broke (in a great flood), my body wasn't ready for labor and Presley wasn't ready to vacate the premises, neither of us tolerated pitocin well, and a really bad experience with the IV narcotics, 2 epidurals and 22 hours later, our little lady arrived via c-section.

Here's the long version....

Preface

In the weeks leading up to her eventual delivery, we were increasingly concerned about the size of our little lady. She was measuring in the 80th percentile and was on track to be a 10 pound baby, should I make it to my due date (November 27th). My doctor said we should pray to have her at 38 weeks and stripped my membranes twice (1 week apart) to try and get things going. Well, no such luck. At 37 and 38 weeks, I was 1.5 cm dilated and 50% effaced, with no real sign of things progressing further. So, on Thursday, November 17th, we went to bed talking about our plans to finish decorating the nursery and the last minute preparations we'd be taking care of over the weekend. (Also, Chad called that night to warn Jeff that our little girl may not be so cute the first time we see her (but, we'll love her anyway) and that we should avoid looking at the placenta, along with a few other gory warnings about labor and delivery).

Act 1: The Great Flood

At 4am on Friday, November 18th, I got up to use the bathroom and, as I was climbing back in bed, my water broke. And, I'm not just talking a little trickle like they tell you to expect. I'm talking someone-dumped-a-gallon-of-warm-water-all-over-me kind of water breakage (thank goodness it did not happen at the office! That would have been an embarrassing mess!). I said, "Oh my gosh, my water broke!" Jeff immediately (yet remarkably calmly) jumped up, grabbed a bunch of towels, ushered me to the shower (where the flood continued) and began taking off all of our bedding and putting it in the washer (Also, thank goodness we keep a water-proof mattress cover on our bed. We would have needed a new mattress!). I stood in the shower, shaking, as I processed what just happened and what it meant. I called the hospital and since I hadn't had a single real contraction (only Braxton-Hicks), the doctor told us to take our time--shower, pack our bags, and then come in. So, I did what any girl would do for an important day. I showered and got ready---make-up, curled hair, etc and at 5am and 38 weeks and 5 days pregnant, we were ready to go to the hospital!

Act 2: The Waiting Game

When we arrived at the hospital, we were put into a little triage area. I was given a gown and a gurney to lay on in a shared room with another woman who was clearly having some painful contractions. I felt a little guilty because I was just leaking water, no pain, just occupied with trying to not make a mess everywhere! After 30 minutes or so, a nurse peaked her head in to check on us and all I had to say was, "I'm fine, just leaking a lot of water" and we had our magic pass out of triage and into a rather nice, private birthing suite.

Me, in triage.

And then the real waiting began. I had still not made any progress toward active labor and the doctor had us wait until the early afternoon before starting pitocin, to see if my body would start progressing on it's own. During the wait, the well-wishing cavalry arrived, complete with snacks, cards, and other activities to help pass the time.

Unfortunately, after a quick breakfast, I was put on a liquid only diet until after we delivered. So, nothing but popsicles, jello and beef broth for me whilst all others indulged in a plethora of snack foods. I'm not a fan of Taco Bell but, when you're hungry and can't eat, even a gordita smells good!

After being hooked up to the pitocin, I finally started having some contractions (Jeff and I high-fived after the first one. Finally, progress!). They were uncomfortable but, not unbearable so, we pressed forward, with the nurses increasing the dose every 15 minutes or so. My family left for dinner and Jeff and I tried to get some rest. But, things went downhill quickly after that, and my concept of time ceased to exist.

I dilated to 5cm without any pain medication and decided to try the IV narcotic medications before moving on to the epidural. Big mistake! I learned quickly that I do not handle narcotics well! I got so dizzy and felt so sick, yet it did nothing to ease the pain. On top of it, I felt liked I wanted to sleep but that my breathing was slowing so much that I was worried I'd stop breathing. So, Jeff held my hand and I kept telling him to, "make sure I keep breathing" as I slipped in and out of intense pain and consciousness.

As I slowly came out of my drug-induced haze, the contractions were getting more frequent and painful and I asked for an epidural. The nurses asked Jeff to sit on the couch while they put in the epidural and as I hunched over the table, getting the catheter inserted in my spine, I smelled a burger and french fries--Jeff was eating his dinner (he needed his energy after all :-) )--and I waited for sweet relief. I was still so out of it from the narcotic episode that getting the epidural didn't really bother me. This turned out to be a really good thing because the first one they put in was in the wrong spot and offered no relief whatsoever. So, they had to do it again! Thankfully, the second one worked and I was finally comfortable and left to try and rest while my body labored (and shook--those epidural shakes are crazy!).

Jeff and I both fell asleep for a little while but, mine was short-lived. The baby's heart-rate was dropping as I had contractions that would persist for 5 minutes or more, yet the contractions weren't strong enough to move me beyond 6 cm. And so, for a couple of hours, the nurses hovered as we tried to increase the strength of my contractions, get the baby to face the right way, and keep her heart-rate up. Jeff slept though all of this and around 1am, I woke him up and told him that they were starting to talk about a cesarean delivery. I wasn't progressing, neither of us were tolerating the pitocin well, and the baby was facing the wrong way. And so, around 1:30am, I started being prepped for the surgery.

Act 3: Her Grand Entrance

The whole c-section experience was very weird. You are awake, strapped Braveheart-style to an operating table, and feeling pressure and tugging as they operate. It's a little disconcerting but, totally worth it...at 2:12am on Saturday, November 19th, our little girl made her debut (22 hours after my water broke). She was 7 lbs, 5 ounces (a full pound less than what we were expecting) and 19.5 inches long.

Hello, little lady!

 

This is me--my first moment as a mommy--meeting my daughter for the first time.

One of the greatest moments of my life.

 

Jeff went with her to the nursery, proudly showing her off to her Auntie Ashley along the way.

 

We hadn't named her yet. We had two names that we liked and wanted to see her before we named her. Jeff told the nurses the two names in the nursery and, without them knowing it, they started calling her "Sweet P," our nickname for her if we named her Presley. When I was out of recovery and our little girl was back in our room, we looked at her and decided that "Sweet P" it would be--Presley Hart (my maiden name) Tobler.

Act 4: Meeting the Fam

We were blessed with a lot of visitors after Presley's arrival. I, of course, looked like death-warmed-over for a day or two following the delivery but, thankfully, all eyes were on Presley!

A few hours after her birth, Presley got to meet...

Gran

Grandfather

Uncle Braden...

Who, I think, was mimicking her yawn?

Grandpa and Grandma

Auntie Ashley (no picture with Uncle Jay...sad!)

and her Auntie Greer

 

Jeff and I were also thrilled to be able to get acquainted with our little Sweet P.

Jeff was quick to assume diaper duty. I didn't change a single diaper until after we got home from the hospital! Of course, that doesn't mean he warmed to it right away...

This is his face as he changed his first poopy diaper...priceless.

Of course, soon after our family left, I got pretty sick--barfing all over myself, my bed, the floor and some of the equipment (luckily, I missed the baby).  I felt Y-U-C-K-Y. I tell you what--true love is your spouse picking up and using the phone you just vomited all over to call the nurse. Poor guy. We can laugh about it now but, Jeff almost joined in on the fun when he had to do that!

Thankfully, Presley was (and is) a perfectly healthy little girl and, despite an arduous labor and delivery experience (but, really, is there any other kind?), I have enjoyed a rather quick recovery. We left the hospital a day early and were so excited to get our little girl home and settle into this great new phase of life.

Time to go home!

She's not a big fan of her car seat but, when we hold hands, it helps.

Being her parents is the most wonderful thing. We just can't get enough of her and feel so blessed to have such a beautiful, and sweet-tempered, daughter. We've never been so happy to be so tired and still can hardly believe that she's here and she's ours. She is truly a gift from a very loving Heavenly Father.