Your Birth and 24 Hours Before You Joined Our Family, Bea – 1/11/2005

Dear Bea,

On the night of January 10th your father and I had a lovely dinner at our friend's restaurant, Antonella's. I was in my last week of work before starting maternity leave, and I was so relieved that I would have three weeks off before your "supposed" arrival. We had been contemplating the day and were talking about "when" exactly you would make your debut. Of course it was on my mind, but I was having some very stressful issues happen at my workplace, so my mind kept racing to those. I feasted, or tried to feast, on a nice big salad, a shrimp pesto pizza and calamari, only my stomach was so scrunched up into my ribs that I probably didn't have more than a few bites. Oh, and yes, root beer was my drink of choice. After a nice dinner, we headed home.

Your father and I had been joking about you coming the next day, for he was ready for his so-called "vacation". I, on the other hand, had just had my baby shower the day before, and I was more than exhausted. I still had a ton of gifts to write thank you notes for, not to mention getting everything organized.

At the end of my pregnancy, I probably got the most enjoyment in lying down at the end of the day. I knew I would be getting up at least several times to go to the bathroom, so it definitely wasn't your run of the mill eight hours of uninterrupted slumber. Just to have my feet up and be in a horizontal position meant more than you'll know (Well, you will one day when you have children of your own.). It turns out that I was having other sleeping issues, too. Being that all of my center organs were being pushed every which way resulted in bad heartburn every night and unbearable snoring. The snoring was so loud that your father would often shake the bed to get me to move, or kick me, anything that would get me to stop or quiet down. That night, it must have been bad...he resorted to sleeping on the couch for a good portion of the night.

I remember that I actually ended up sleeping extremely well that night. I think I had only gotten up once to go to the bathroom. I felt completely refreshed, like I hadn't in so long. I woke up before the alarm clock and sat in bed thinking about the day ahead. I had a number of deadlines due at work that I thought about. I remember thinking, "I wish I could stay home today and start my leave." I remember wanting to cry. Instead, I decided that I better get up and get moving.

I slowly made my way out of bed and stood up by my dresser. Suddenly, there was a gush down below. I thought that maybe I had to pee very badly and that that was what I was doing. It definitely was a different sensation and I tried to stop the flow, but it wasn't happening. I stood there for a minute trying to figure out what happened and if maybe I was dreaming. I wasn't. My water broke, only I didn't realize it because it had never happened to me before. How did I know what to expect? I was even unsure of what contractions would feel like.

A little scared to move, I made my way to the bathroom. I sat down on the toilet. There were some drops and I ended up peeing, too. I kept thinking that maybe I really did pee. I stood up from the toilet and received another gush. I'm confused. I make my way out to the living room where your dad is and say, "Josh, I think my water broke," totally calm, in almost a whisper. He didn't move. I repeated it a little louder. "Huh?" he said. I said it again, and then he said "What? How do you know? What’s going on? Let’s call the doctor. Where’s the number?" He completely jumped out of his skin. All I could say was, "I don't know the answers to any of these questions, but I think we are having a baby today." I hadn't even packed a bag for the hospital.

After finding the doctor's number, I make the call. Your father was trying to get a bag together of things to take to the hospital. I await a call back from my doctor, the wonderful Dr. H:

Dr. H: Jenna?
Jenna: Yeah.
Dr. H: What happened? What's going on?
Jenna: I think my water broke. I'm not certain.
Dr. H: Explain to me what happened.

(At this point I explain everything that happened above.)

Dr. H: What color is the fluid?
Jenna: It appears clear. Is it supposed to look like that?
Dr. H: That's normal. Your water broke. Go to the hospital.
Jenna: Are you sure? I thought it was supposed to have smidgens of blood or something. It's clear.
Dr. H: Jenna, go to the hospital. You are fine. Your water broke. You are having the baby today. I'll meet you there.

So, it appeared you were going to arrive sometime that day, January 11th. Although, some people scared me to death by saying that I seemed like the type to have a 36-hour labor, so it could be another day, and I just cringed at that thought and hoped that you would be an easy labor. I had been more nervous about your arrival and the labor than actually taking care of you. I shouldn't have cared so much, as you will see.

I remember leaving the house and taking off for the hospital. It was pouring rain. Your father sped all the way to the hospital. If I wasn't nervous already with having to push you out, instead of just being white knuckled, I think my whole hand was white from digging my hands somewhere for safety.

Upon our arrival at the hospital, your father was adamant about getting me a wheelchair and I yelled at him that I didn't need one and I was walking to the maternity ward, damn it. It was just going to take too long to find a wheelchair and I really just wanted to get there myself. When we got there, they made me sit in a wheelchair anyway. I was thinking, "I am not sick or disabled but having a baby...why must I sit when I am going to be sitting or lying down for the next few days??" This was your stubborn, hormone-raging mother trying to be in charge.

Once we got situated in the room, Dr. H came in. I was only dilated one centimeter. It was nothing, really. He left and said he would come back in the afternoon to check on me. It was 7:30 in the morning and I was confined to this little room where there was nothing to do but wait. I prayed you would come soon.

I had to have an IV put in because I have mitral-valve prolapse, as it would ensure safety for both of us during your delivery. Also, because they had to put in the IV anyway, they thought it would be a good idea to induce labor. They said they would have to induce eventually (if I wasn't progressing), due to my water breaking. Once my water broke, there was a higher risk for infection. I said, "Let's do this and let's do this now."

The process was slow. Very slow, it seemed. At least for the first few hours. While I lay there, your father kept coming and going because we weren't ready for you to come just yet. Back and forth he went to the house – washing all your baby clothes and sheets, setting up your crib, bringing me a backpack of stuff he thought I wanted, went and got me a nice piece of jewelry, among other things. I just started having mild contractions when he decided he needed to go do something else. I said, ok, but I mentioned that the contractions were starting, so please hurry.

During this whole process, the nurse had hooked up the baby monitor wrong – we had the monitor hooked up so we could hear your heartbeat. It appeared to be beating really slow. The alarm started going off. The nurse came in and called Dr. H. Emergency! Emergency! The baby must come out now!! Fortunately for everyone, I had turned a certain way which made the monitor do that. Everything was fine. However, there was something wrong with the monitor and it continued with its false alarms. Every time it did that, I panicked.

Anyway, your father was on his way out, but your grandfather (your father's father) had shown up at the hospital. Your father thought it would be a good idea if he kept me company while he was out doing things. It was not a good idea. Instead, I was lectured on how childbirth couldn't really be that bad, that if the alarm on the baby monitor went off to just remain calm because everything was fine, and some other subjects I don't even remember. I was in labor. Nothing else mattered. Don't try to change the subject. It just wasn't going to happen. I was starting to have strong contractions, feeling like I might need the epidural. I wasn't a force to be reckoned with.

When your father got back I made him come over to me. I said his name in a very snappy tone. He said, "What?" I said, "Come closer, please." He leaned in. I grabbed his shirt and said in his ear, "Get. Your. Father. Out. Of. Here. NOW." I know my eyes were popping out of my head and I had the look one gets when they have held so much in they are going to explode. Your father quickly corralled your grandfather out of the room. He knew what was up.

Your father said he had to go out one last time. I said no. Then I told him to go. Really, I had a hard time making up my mind. Then I told him to wait until they checked my dilation because I thought I was ready for the epidural. Yes, the contractions were increasing in frequency and pain. I was six centimeters. Holy smokes, I made it that far without the epidural?? GIVE IT TO ME NOW (because, as I learned from the birthing class, dilations 7 and 8 were one minute apart with very high intensity. I didn't want to go there.).

I got the epidural lickety-split. It wasn’t painful. Ok, it was, but not as much as the contractions. It was nothing compared to those. They said it would take 20 minutes to kick in. I'll tell you - those people lied to me because I immediately felt nothing from the waist down. I realized then I could enjoy your birth without the pain. So, yes I am a cheater, but I needed to enjoy the experience and focus on you, not the pain.

So, yes, I am at six centimeters. Your father leaves. He’s hungry and in need of food. I'm hungry, too, I tell him. "How about a popsicle? That's all you can have." I'll take it, and to my delight, I had a choice in flavors! "PURPLE," I screamed at him, because he knew if he brought me back the wrong one, it wouldn't be a pretty sight.

He left. I ate my popsicle all by myself. Little did I know this was the very last moment in my life when I would be completely alone. While I wasn't in pain, I felt pressure. It felt like someone was pushing on my stomach really hard and like that person was trying to push you out. That was you...you were ready, or just about.

I rang for the nurse. "Please check me," I said to her. She looked at me and said, "You are way too calm." She didn't think there was any way that it could be time. "You’re almost at 10," she said in shock and with a smile on her face. Ten. It was such a magical number, and at the same time, it scared me because I soon would have to actually be trying to get you out of me. Then I started freaking out. Your father! Where was he??? I was yelling/telling the nurse that your father wasn't there and I couldn't have you without him. She told me you were not going to wait if you were ready and said I would probably be ready to start pushing in 10 – 15 minutes, so your father had some time. They were calling Dr. H and telling him to come. He couldn't believe it. It was only seven hours since I had gotten to the hospital.

Your father came back to see the medical staff getting things ready for the delivery. He had Carls Jr. I wanted some badly. He sat there for maybe two minutes eating and then threw away his food because there was a lot going on around him, and he realized that you were coming. Forget food, we've got a baby to meet!

I started pushing right after that, and your father saw your head almost immediately. He said, "Her hair is dark." I thought he was lying because your father and I were both blonde babies. I pushed a few times, and then Dr. H arrived. I will never forget the first thing he said:

"LET'S HAVE A BIRTHDAY!"

It took me a minute, but it was such a cute thing to say. Dr. H no longer had his gloves on when you were good and ready to come out. We had a big audience for your arrival. Some of the nursing staff enjoyed my company and wanted to see your arrival. One nurse told me that "I made her day." Yes, yes I am a good patient, but more on you...

Dr. H was only there for one push. You popped out. I had approximately seven sets of pushing over a 45 minute time period. Out you came. Dr. H literally showed up, I pushed you out, and that was that.

Your Arrival
I was worried because you had been measuring small. Very worried. Did you have ten fingers? Ten toes? How much did you weigh? Were you fully developed since you were three weeks and two days early?

For the first few minutes of your life, nothing mattered to me except seeing you for the first time. As soon as you came out, you were put immediately on my chest. Your father, by the way, took some great pictures of my emotions that I can't even look at without crying. You were so tiny. You were so beautiful. I had a hard time believing you were my daughter. I couldn't stop crying. I didn't want to let you go –ever.

Your father wasn't too into cutting your umbilical cord when we discussed it before your birth. Dr. H asked him to do it, and he instantly changed his mind and was very proud to do so. It made him a big part in your birth.

They did end up taking you away to do all the normal things they do for a birth, and I was screaming at them from across the room to find out how much you weighed. You were 4 pounds, 14 ounces. You were 17 inches tall. You were born at 4:23 PM. You got an 8 on your first Apgar, and then several minutes later a 9. You were in perfect health, even for being a little pipsqueak. And you looked perfect in spite of your conehead, which was nicely disguised with a beanie. But, oh my gosh, you were so perfect...I was so overwhelmed with love for you immediately. I called you "my angel". We had waited so long for you, and you were finally here...baby girl Beatrice Samantha...the world, and your family, is so very lucky to have you.

I love you,
Mama