I’m definitely stealing Meredith’s thunder on the title for this blog – it was her idea. However, she can’t stop me as she’s sleeping soundly, recovering from the birth of “Little Elvis” early this morning.
First however, a little back story. We’ve been drawing ever nearer our due date of Feb. 17 (at least that’s what two sonograms have said, our OB office maintains a date of Feb. 25). Meredith’s mother, Janie, was in town for the weekend to help us put all the finishing touches on our pregnancy preparations. She was already booked to return next weekend for our Feb. 17 due date.
All that of course became academic this weekend, as Meredith woke me up around 6:30 on Saturday morning, complaining of contraction-like pains. She had actually been up since about 4:30 in the morning, but waited until 6:30 to wake me. For the rest of the morning, we started to keep a record of the time between contractions which seemed to range from 6 minutes to 15 and 20 minutes apart. To pass the time, we went shopping and out to lunch.
By mid-afternoon, the contractions, while still not in a rhythmic pattern, seemed to be more intense. Unsure whether or not this was really labor, we called our OB’s hotline and received a return call. Perhaps because of the variability in pregnancy from one person to another, I assume that an OB will err on the side of caution. Our OB recommended, after Meredith described what she was feeling, that we go into the hospital and at least have a nurse on duty examine her to see whether she was dilating or not. Turns out that, only a centimeter dilated, we weren’t close enough and should return home. The nurse gave Meredith a couple of Ambien to help her sleep through some of the contractions.
We returned home, slightly chastened by the experience, and spent the evening having a bite to eat and watching television. As the evening progressed, so did the regularity and intensity of Meredith’s contractions, eventually getting to the point that they would nearly take Meredith’s breath away. This is the point that the nurse had told us we would be well on our way and should return to the hospital. After a day of contractions, we figured this was it and headed again to the hospital. Again the doctor was called and again the nurse examined and again the verdict was only a centimeter of dilation, if that. Tempted to send us home again, but worried about the intensity of Meredith’s contractions and pain level, the nurse was instructed by the doctor to have us stay in the labor suite for another two hours to see if that would produce progress in the labor.
Sure enough, two hours later, Meredith had dilated to 3 centimeters and we were well on our way. However, she was in tremendous pain and there was still 7 centimeters to go before delivery would be possible. An epidural was ordered and Meredith was more than relieved when she could no longer feel pain, but only pressure from the contractions.
At this point, having been experiencing contractions for almost 24 hours, Meredith was pretty exhausted, as was my mother-in-law. The plan was for Meredith to get a few hours of sleep while she continued to dilate. As Meredith was snoozing, I would drive Janie back to the house so that she could get some shut-eye as well. Shortly after I returned to the hospital, everything changed in a hurry.
I’m not sure what caused it exactly, but while the epidural helped Meredith, it seemed to negatively impact the baby. At a 3 a.m. examination, Little Elvis’ heart rate was dropping sufficiently that the decision was made to break Meredith’s bag of water. The plan was for a resident to then implant a more sophisticated monitor directly on the baby’s head to get a better idea of what is going on. Unfortunately, readings were still fluctuating wildly after this procedure. Rather than risk any more strain on the baby’s condition, the decision was made to wheel Meredith to the operating room to prep for an emergency cesarean section.
This was pretty scary both for Meredith and I, as a lot was going on, but not a whole lot of information was being shared with us. While I had been part of the labor process, I couldn’t follow Meredith to the operating room immediately. This separation and uncertainty about what was going on and how much risk there was for both Meredith and “Little Elvis” was very tough for me. All I could do was to put on some scrubs, some shoe coverings and a face mask and wait outside the operating room for further instruction.
After what seemed like an endless ten minutes, I got the call and headed into the operating room, with the specific instructions, “Sit on the stool and don’t touch anything blue.” Meredith was on the table, with only her head visible above a curtain that hid a team of medical professionals feverishly working over her abdomen. She had a few tears in her eyes and I could tell she was scared – not so much for herself, but for the baby. All I could tell her was that the baby was going to be fine, though I had absolutely no idea what exactly was wrong. I just had to play the percentages that it would all work alright, and, sure enough, it did. Within minutes, I could hear our baby’s first cry and was in tears myself at the sight of him. “Little Elvis” left the belly at 3:46 a.m., Sunday, February 11, 2007 and weighed in at 7 lbs., 7 oz., measuring 20 ¾”.
Once he was cleaned up in the operating room, I was able to show him to Meredith (she couldn’t feel or move below her armpits due to the anesthesia). While the “closing” part of the surgery was going on, I went to the nursery with the baby though, in the rush to the operating room, I left my camera back in the labor suite. I spent a little time in the nursery just watching the baby – he was placed in a warmer to get him to the right temperature to be bathed. I went back to the labor suite to make sure that Meredith was resting comfortably as well as to retrieve my camera. It was going to be hours until Meredith would be able to hold the baby (her priority was to get some rest), so I wanted to get some video to show her. Turns out that this video was very handy, as it took the baby a little extra time to achieve the required temperature to be allowed out of the nursery. While Meredith’s mother was able to see the baby through the nursery glass, Meredith, bed-ridden for the entire day following surgery, didn’t get to see or hold the baby until around noontime – more than 8 hours after he left the belly and entered the world.
