Welcome to the World, SpaceMan

Our Noah-boy made his entrance into the world over 3 weeks ago, and it's been the longest shortest time in my life. I stole that phrase, "longest shortest time", from a podcast about parenting. It's the most accurate description about the passage of time with a newborn. Life with a newborn will get its own entry, maybe once my head isn't so fuzzy.

I'll start before he was a "newborn" and go back to just being "born". No new. I wrote out my birth story in full detail to recount my take on his birth. I'll save you from ALL the details (especially the goriest ones). Without further adieu, here is Noah's birth story:

I made a deal with Noah. He could hang out past his due date, but only by one or two days. I don't qualify for Family Medical Leave Act, so I would be going on short-term disability leave. I had to be "permanent" in my position for 90 days to qualify for a month at 100% of my salary + 2 weeks at 60% of my salary. I would get the same amount of time no matter what, but if I didn't hit those 90 days then the last two weeks of leave would be unpaid. My due date was, like, day 88 or something (I kid you not). If I made it just one more day and finished out the week then I would hit day 90 (the weekends count). My due date came and went, I went to work the next day as usual, and I triumphantly left and thanked Noah. Really, he should have been thanking me. Diapers are expensive. 

I woke up at 12:30am the next morning after 2 hours of sleep thinking my water had broken. Ultimately I was wrong, but I got up to pee and noticed mild contractions but this time they were coming in noticeable intervals. After about an hour I woke up Adam and sent him to start collecting everything we needed for a trip to the hospital. His check list included doing the dishes at 2:00am and depositing his paycheck, something I still laugh about today. Hey, we didn't have dishes to do when we got home!

Before the $*@T hit the fan

Unfortunately, my water had not broken and my cervix was still high and closed - for those of you that don't know much about birth, "high and closed" is akin to "try again later". They kept us there and I was re-checked later that morning. I was excited to have Dr. Wasserman, who was delivering babies when I was born and is still as sprightly, hilarious, and obviously knowledgeable now as he was then. His calm demeanor about pregnancy, labor, and delivery made everything seem normal and okay (especially important when you’re in the middle of the most physically and emotionally taxing experience of your life). Dr. Wasserman re-checked me around 8am, and I hurriedly ate a small breakfast before that thinking it might be the last time they let me eat. Unfortunately, even after a night of regular and stronger contractions there still wasn’t any progression. I wanted to avoid induction because I knew it had a higher chance of a C-Section. The doctor told me he felt like it was time to have the baby, especially since I was past my due date and was already having contractions. I can’t explain how it felt to finally be in the situation where you know you’re not leaving the hospital without a baby. On the other hand, I was scared that inducing would kick things into high gear unnaturally and I might have to get the C-Section.

Nitrous Oxide: Making Time in Between
Contractions Pretty Fun!

I started with a medicine that is meant to soften the cervix, not really "induction" but more like "okay, body, start to take the hint". Within about 20-30 minutes of taking the pill my contractions started coming 1-2 minutes apart and were getting more and more intense. Apparently my body took the hint too well. I got through that stage with just breathing, but eventually opted for nitrous oxide. It’s a much less invasive option that the epidural, and it would allow me to just have pain medicine when I wanted to (it leaves your system when you stop breathing it through the mask). I don’t even know how much time passed, but it was a long process of contracting, hitting the nitrous, coming down from it (which takes almost no time at all), and going back to fighting through another contraction. I had to get a shot to try to slow down my contractions, they were close enough together and too intense for the doctor to be comfortable with. My mom arrived at the hospital in the middle of an intense contraction, at this point I was really yelling through them (into the nitrous mask, so it didn’t sound loud to everyone else but I felt like I was screaming at the top of my lungs). I remember seeing my mom out of the corner of my eye, realizing she was crying (she had been in the room for about two seconds!), and saying “it’s already so hard to see her in pain”. I had a bit of a meltdown, but it lasted about 45 seconds before I had to refocus on the next contraction.

I went from "not ready at all" to 6cm dilated in a relatively short amount of time. I was keeping up with the nitrous oxide, but it was starting to get less and less effective. I don’t remember how much time passed, but I felt myself reaching my breaking point. I didn’t want to get the epidural, but finally in the middle of a particularly tough contraction I asked for it (or maybe DEMANDED it). 

Everyone wants to know what a contraction or hard labor feels like. It hurt enough that I don't even remember the pain of getting a 4 inch needle inserted into my spine. The worst part of the epidural was sitting still through contractions while they inserted it. I can't describe the pain (maybe that's mommy amnesia), but during the worst of it I felt like a feral animal, my eyes locked on Adam's, screaming like there was no tomorrow. 

I don’t remember the pain going away, I just remember falling into a state in between being awake and asleep. Apparently I was woken up and told to start pushing (I don’t remember this). I just remember I was pushing for a long time. It ended up being three hours total.

I had a sense that the doctors, nurses, and my cheer squad were seeing something I wasn’t able to identify – that ended up being Noah getting stuck under my pelvic bone. The doctor came in and I heard him tell someone (the nurse, maybe?) that I had 20 minutes to get him out or they may have to do a C-Section. I remember thinking I didn’t want that to happen, but I didn’t get any more energy or motivation. I was just so tired. What was probably 20-30 minutes later the doctor came back in, watched me push for a while, and decided to give me another 20 minutes. My nurse came up to my head, got in my face (in a good way), and told me if there was ever a time to get mad and get the baby out it was now. I remember Adam telling me I had to focus and do it. Again, I don’t know how much time passed, but I was making enough progress to get his head a little bit out but not enough. 

Are you wondering what it feels like to have an almost 9 pound baby's head sitting in your pelvis, patiently awaiting you to push it out? It feels like you have to poop a 40 pound brick, even with the epidural.

This is where it gets gory and the room started to look like a crime scene, so I'll omit those details. Noah ended up getting vacuum-suction on his head, and Dr. Wasserman basically yanked him out while I pushed. I don’t know how to describe the feeling, but Adam told me the noise I made when Noah came out is one he will never forget.

I was suddenly aware how much blood was in the room, and how many people were there observing what was happening. Noah was taken to the nurses immediately and was “singing”, which not a good sign. It meant that he had something wrong with his breathing. Adam and my mom saw more of this process than I did, as I was still reeling from a long labor. I tried to get a peek of Noah while the doctor and nurses worked on me. You don't think much about what happens to mom right after birth, but I'll just say "it ain't over, and it ain't pretty". Noah was put on my chest for about 30 seconds and they explained to me that he needed to go straight to the nursery. We had just enough time to snap a photo before he was taken away.

Noah's "Space Helmet" of oxygen

The pediatrician treating Noah made the call that he needed to be transferred to a NICU within a few hours of birth. Seeing Noah for the first time after birth was heartbreaking. He had inhaled amniotic fluid and meconium (the waste be built up over his 40 week, 2 day stay in Hotel Mother) in the womb, and that was making it hard for him to breath on his own. He was already attached to machines and I couldn’t hold him. I totally lost it. We stayed and talked to him for a while before going to my recovery room. The hours after birth are chaotic. You need to sleep but you can’t, really. You will either need to breastfeed every two hours, or if you’re in my situation you’ll need to get up and pump every two hours. I’ve never used a breast pump, and it was tough to learn how to after no sleep and 22 hours of labor. I was also trying to figure out how to take care of myself. You’re reduced to barely being able to go to the bathroom alone. The nurses told me I could shower, I didn’t think I had the energy. I just wanted to sleep but I couldn’t. Nurses would come in frequently to check my vitals, I had to pump, I was uncomfortable. Every hour that went by got a little less intense, but it wasn’t easy. 

I opted to stay an extra night in the hospital (they offered to discharge me the next day if I wanted to go to the NICU to see Noah, but I didn’t feel ready).  I remembered other moms telling me to stay in the hospital as long as possible, because it's the last time a team of people people take care of you, bring you juice and food, and make sure you’re okay. Once you leave, it’s all about baby.

We didn’t have the dream birth experience, it was intense and often times scary. It was the most visceral experience I’ve ever had and it really broke me down to my most animal-brained self, but I also learned what I was capable of getting through. I had an amazing team of caregivers that I couldn't have done it without, literally and figuratively. It's true what they say - it feels like a distant memory, but it's one memory that's burned into my brain and that I will never, ever forget.