Liam's birth story

Saturday, October 13th, was my first day of maternity leave. I had skipped out on the fundraising event the night before, saying my goodbyes and heading out around 5:30pm.

Pat made a big breakfast - pumpkin-pecan pancakes, eggs with tofu, and sausage. He did some yardwork, and I watched tv and bummed around the house.

Late in the afternoon, we decided to run a few errands. We went to Target and Homegoods, bought a few necessities, some new sheets, placemats, and a tablecloth, before heading home around 6pm. We had salmon burgers for dinner, and I took my usual place on the comfy chair in the living room. I hadn't been getting around so well, and the chair was much easier to get up from than the couch.

Around 8:30pm, I had some Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie. And around 8:45, I went to lie down in bed and watch tv ("Carrie" was on, and then I started watching "Witness"). Pat went upstairs to watch the Red Sox game and play on the new computer.

About 15 minutes later, I started feeling what I thought was some gastrointestinal discomfort. My system hadn't been regular in a few days, so I figured it was just sorting itself out and throwing ice cream down there (even with a Lactaid) probably hadn't helped. I got up to go to the bathroom - nothing. Ten minutes later, I was up again. Still nothing.

I started feeling what I thought were Braxton Hicks contractions -- my belly was tightening up -- it wasn't painful, but they did seem to be repeating more frequently. I grabbed a post-it and a pencil and started timing them. They were 5 minutes apart, 8 minutes apart, 9 minutes ... They didn't seem to be getting stronger or closer together. And they didn't hurt.

Every 15-20 minutes or so, I was getting up to go to the bathroom. And any passing notion that I might be in labor was far outweighed by the "I'm sure it's just a stomach problem" feeling. Meanwhile, Pat was still upstairs. I didn't think it was worth announcing my intestinal distress.

Around 10pm, I went to the bathroom yet again, and noticed a few streaks of blood. Hmm. This would seem to be the "bloody show", but as with all things in late pregnancy, this just meant I was getting closer to labor (i.e., it could still be two weeks). After that, I started having some dull lower back pain, and by 10:30 the contractions had clearly moved to my back.

I kept timing, and the contractions kept being irregular (7 minutes, 10 minutes, 6 minutes). I kept going to the bathroom, and there still was nothing.

At 11:20, after a 10-minute stint in the bathroom, my contractions seemed to be in the 6-minute apart range and I had been having the same kind for about an hour. I figured it was probably time to call and check in with the doctor. As I was grabbing the phone, Pat came downstairs.

"What's going on?"

"I'm calling the doctor. I think I might be in labor."

Of course, this led to the question of why I hadn't told him that this was going on. And I explained that the contractions weren't regular, they didn't hurt, and I thought it was a combination of Braxton Hicks and Ben & Jerry's. I didn't want to show up at the hospital and have them send me home with Maalox.

So at 11:25, I called the doctor's answering service, and he called me back about 3 minutes later, sounding very sleepy. I think I woke him up. I told him what had been going on, and he said, "Well, since you were 4cm dilated on Tuesday, why don't you go to the hospital and get checked out. I'll meet you there."

Right after that, the contractions sped up. I got off the phone, and Pat asked me if I wanted to take a shower.

"No. We need to go to the hospital RIGHT NOW."

Fortunately, our bags were already in the car, so Pat ran to take the dog out, and to leave a note on our next-door neighbor's car asking him to take her out in the morning. He was a bit frantic, as I had given him about 5 minutes' notice to get out the door.

I got dressed and loaded myself into the Highlander, and rapidly realized that with back labor, sitting down is probably one of the most uncomfortable positions you can be in.

We pulled out of the driveway at 11:47, and got to the hospital at 12:05. Fortunately, there were no lane closures on 95 that night (if you're not from here, you can't get ANYWHERE in this state without using 95 and it's been under some serious construction). By that point, my contractions were about 2-3 minutes apart, and I couldn't walk or talk through them. He pulled up the car, and I walked into triage. The triage nurse was helping another woman ahead of me. I leaned on the counter and huffed and puffed through my contractions. The security guy made Pat go park the car somewhere else. Meanwhile, the girls who do the paperwork had me sit down and go through the admission process.

A few minutes later, the triage nurse brought me into the back room and had me sit in one of those blood-drawing chairs, where I writhed around as she checked my blood pressure and asked me several of the same questions the admissions girl had. Pat came back in at this point carrying everything we brought with us (not just the labor bags); I could see him through the door.

A few minutes after that, they had a room in triage ready for me. Pat came in and he and the nurse walked me in there. They had me undress and put on a johnny. Somehow I managed to get up on the gurney. The resident OB came in and did an internal exam. She said I was 8cm dilated and had a "bulging bag" (amniotic sack -- my water hadn't broken yet). They started an IV, and asked if I wanted an epidural. I said, "yes!" They said they might not have time to do it; I asked if I could have any other pain medications, and they said no. I was too far along.

Meanwhile the contractions were coming strong and fast, and it was insanely uncomfortable lying on my back, so I rolled onto my right side and clung to the side of the bed, while trying to do my breathing (which was still helping at that point). At some point, I started groaning, which built to guttural howling through the contractions. They told me that we'd be going upstairs (to Labor and Delivery) shortly, and left me and Pat alone. I made him go track down the doctor a few minutes later, when it felt like the baby was going to come any second.

They wheeled me down the hall to the elevator. As I was yelling, I looked down the hall and saw the pregnant girl who had been admitted right before me, and imagined how I must have looked to her. I must have been scary.

The doctor was with us the whole time, which was good, as I was convinced the baby was going to be born in the elevator.

We got to L&D and they made me move myself from the gurney to the bed (not fun) in the few seconds I had between contractions. The Red Sox game was on in extra innings on the tv. The doctor asked if I wanted it turned off. I told her they could leave it on, as long as it was on mute. I figured it might be a good distraction for Pat.

I didn't notice when I came in (I had my eyes tightly shut during contractions), but the anesthesiologist was there prepping an epidural. The L&D nurse said that they could give it to me, if I was able to sit up and sit still through the contractions. I decided to try for it, and the nurse helped me into position. (Remember, sitting = more pain.) Pat tells me that they were about 30 seconds from administering the epidural when my water broke, well, burst really, during a contraction. It was like someone had lobbed a water balloon at my crotch. Right after that, I felt this intense shudder through my body and told the nurse that I needed to push. My body had taken over.

I think they told me I had to wait. I told them I couldn't.

They had me lie down again and scoot down to the end of the bed. They put an oxygen mask on me, which helped muffle the screams (I sounded possessed -- I really had no idea I could make noises like that). They started coaching me through breathing and pushing, and wanted me to hold my own legs back, and I just didn't have the strength. Pat ended up grabbing my left leg, and the L&D nurse was on my right. I couldn't enough air to sustain a second push through the contractions and ended up doing all of my breathing through my mouth (instead of in through the nose and out through the mouth).

I think I pushed through about 10 contractions, which was probably over the course of 15 minutes or so. During delivery, Liam's heart rate dropped -- his umbilical cord was around his neck - so the doctor called for the vacuum. (I remember being slightly concerned by this, but I was a little distracted.) Positioning the vacuum hurt -- it was a different pain from what I was already having, so it stood out for me. She didn't have to do much before Liam's head was out, and then it was one or two more pushes for the rest of him.

Liam's official time of birth was 12:59am. 54 minutes after arriving at the hospital.

The medical staff cut the cord and whisked him out of the room. I barely saw him before he went. The doctor asked Pat if he wanted to cut the remaining cord, which he did. Then he went into the other room to watch them run tests on Liam and clean him up. (Liam scored an 8 on his first Apgar test, and a 9 on the second one 10 minutes later.)

The doctor asked what his name was. We told her: Liam Patrick. She said she had just had her baby, also Liam, 9 weeks ago.

The doctor delivered my placenta, which I asked to see. It was much bluer than I had expected. And, as she was preparing to stitch me up (I had ripped), my OB came in (it was probably about 1:05am now -- about 90 minutes after I had talked to him). He offered to take over; but the resident said she was fine, so he sat next to me and chatted with us. I did get a shot of lidocaine to numb the area being stitched. I'm not convinced that it took, but it didn't hurt too much.

The L&D nurse periodically "massaged" my belly to stimulate contractions. There's nothing massage-like about this. Basically she pushed down really hard on my belly - enough to wind me. I groaned. The resident smiled and reminded me that she wasn't the one causing the pain. It was the nurse's fault.

They offered me morphine, which I readily accepted, because really, how often do you get to have morphine? It didn't really do anything for the pain, but it did relax my muscles -- I felt my shoulders melt.

I forget who brought them out (Pat, maybe), but I saw Liam's footprints before I got to really see him. And after what seemed like forever, but was probably only 20 minutes or so, they brought him back into the room and put him in my arms.

His hands were bluish. His hair was blond, and looked wavy from being wet. He was awake - his eyes looked gray (they were murky). Under his little hat, he had a bit of a conehead from the vacuum. And he had a blister on his left hand from having sucked on it in the womb.

We hung out in L&D for a long time. We stared at the little guy, took pictures, and tried to process everything. Pat snuck off to make a few phone calls. It was probably 3:15am when we finally left. They had me get up and get into a wheelchair, which was not a whole lot of fun, as it involved both standing (albeit briefly) and sitting on my now very swollen girl parts.

After getting situated in our recovery room (thankfully private), the nurses came to take Liam to the nursery for more tests. They thought they'd have him back to us around 6:30 or 7am. So I took some tylenol with codeine, and Pat pulled out the most uncomfortable chair/bed ever, and we proceeded to get a few hours of non-sleep. Liam didn't come back until about 8am.

We stayed in the hospital until Tuesday morning, recuperating and figuring out our new roles as parents.