Joys, triumphs and trials raising 2 girls and 3 boys
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Izabellas Birth Story
It all started on Friday night, the 18th of September. Chris and I had just finished rearranging the living room in preparation for my fathers arrival that Sunday afternoon. We were getting the children ready for bed when I was clued in that labor was going to be starting soon. I'll be the first to admit it, I was suddenly very nervous and a bit scared lol. After Williams quick birth I wasn't sure of what to expect, that little bit of unknown weighed on me. It had been a long day and Chris had been gone since 5am and was pretty tired. So I decided to go to bed to try to keep things slow or even to stop them. If any future mothers are reading this...don't do that. Let it progress, don't slow it down! All through the night the contractions stayed 20-30 minutes apart. Around 5:30 they changed, became stronger and lasting a little longer...but still 20-30 min apart. I finally passed out around 6 and woke up around 8. Chris and I decided it was best for him to miss quiz practice and Celsi went on ahead with the Wideners. He then started packing up the boys to go to Gamma's house and made the necessary calls stating, "It'll be some time today, prob late this afternoon." All the boys got dressed and were ready to go.
It was almost 9 when I decided it was time to get out of bed and let things progress (like I have control over all of this anyhow, my human mind). I walked the 10 ft to the bathroom, 5 feet to my desk...in those moments my contractions went from 20min apart to 2min apart. Calmly calling to Chris, he peeks his head in..."We have to go now"..."I'm packing the kids, almost done."..."No, really...we have to go now". He turns to get a last thing and "Pop!" there goes my water. It was an amazing feeling...I felt her thump me, then "pop"...I thought I could almost hear the sound. Once again I call for Chris as I'm looking down. I notice the water isn't clear, it's stained with lots and lots of meconium. Chris pokes his head in, "My water just broke, I think you need to call 911...it's full of meconium!" He glances down, grabs the phone and is transfered to the Emergency service line.
They instruct Chris to "check" me. Mind you, at this moment in time my contractions are now on top of each other and we're in our bedroom...I tried to lay down on the floor but I just couldn't...it was too painful! I was saved by a knock on the door and a police officer coming in. I got as far as the top of the stairs. The officer is at the bottom calling up to me, "Can you make it down here or do you need me to carry you down the stairs?". All I could do is hold up a "just a minute" finger and shake my head. In my mind I was wondering if I'd make it down or have the baby half way...maybe on the landing...Oh Lord God help me get down these stairs! As soon as the contraction was over I went down as fast as I could while the next contraction was climbing already.
Door opens and this time it's our local firemen! 5 by my count. My youngest William is now entranced by the fire truck parked out front with the lights on. Now it was their turn to get my 411 and inform me that they need to "check" me. While preparing to lay down, now in my front room, I calmly ask, "Who here has ever delivered a baby?" One fireman raised his hand. He became my focus. Funny how just knowing there was someone that knew what they were doing calms you. Enter stage right, the paramedics walking through the door. I also hear my dear friend Kim's voice talking to my husband...was wondering when she got there. Then once again more relief knowing she was prob there to take my boys. Knowing she'd care for them, calm them and be sure they knew I was ok.
Back to the "scene". Paramedics inform firemen that there is no time to "check" me, it would be done in route that we had to go! For the second time in my laboring life I once again find myself strapped to a gurney (have I mentioned how skinny a gurney is? Not much to hang on to) about to have a baby. They stroll me out of the house, past my boys standing there with Kim. I hear her saying that prayers would be said and feel her hand on my shoulder. I can't speak, contractions are too close and too long...all I can do at this point is breathe as they load me in and shut the doors.
I've always wondered what a ride in an ambulance is like. I know now, and trust me...it's no picnic. It could of been my imagination, or every bump was bumpier. Contractions while flying an inch or two in the air while holding on to the side of a gurney is quite the ordeal. I'm sure in a short film it could even be viewed as somewhat comical. In real life, not so much. It was pretty painful. It was during these bumpy moments that the EMT informed me that she would "check" me. This is usually a painful thing, but necessary to see how far you've progressed. Well, all she did was pat my knee and inform me that I was a 3. Somehow she knew this without checking me at all. In my head I was laughing, it was quite funny her "checking". Then immediately I was wishing my husband were in the back with me instead of up front informing the other EMT of how quick our last birth was. 10 min or so pass by and she "checks" me again, this time proclaiming I'm a 3 maybe a 4. I'm amazed at how she knows, wish I had a flash light or something to pass her...you see, still in labor sarcasm is not lost. She walks over near my head to strap things above me down tighter and such, beats me what she was doing. All I knew is that I was in trouble...we weren't at the hospital yet and this EMT had no idea what she was in for. While I contracted, pondering our fate...things changed. Baby Girl Wallace was on the move. I tell the EMT, the baby is coming now! She calmly tells me, "OK, I'll go "check"". It's at this point that later my hubby fills me in on the front seat conversation. When he heard me, he leaned and told the EMT driver...we're not going to make it to the hospital. EMT informs him that he has permission to speed. Lights go on, pedal to the medal, sirens flare. (Back to the back) She "checks" me (I know she is going to see Baby girls head) and informs me that...She's right there! Yells to the front, get us to the hospital now! I feel the ambulance stop, the door to the side open and out comes baby girl. I can feel her little foot on my thigh move every now and again...but I don't hear her. I keep asking Chris if she is ok, he says she looks good that they are just getting out the fluid. I ask again and again, waiting to hear her cry. Emergency nurses flood the ambulance, the cord gets cut and she is whisked away...I hear one small cry. Chris follows her out.
At this point of our story it goes in two directions...Chris is asked by the nurses in emergency, "What is her name?" We had never decided on one, yet he answers..."Izabella Cait" Her apgar goes from a 4 to an 8! She's closely monitored for almost 4 hours. In the mean time, I'm taken to L&D to finish up. Ob's inform me that things needed to be done so that I would heal properly. I won't go into details but it was the first time I've ever tried to climb a hospital bed to escape a doctor. Then I was informed I needed stitches, not many...just a small tear. No big after all the other stuff they had just done. The Lord was merciful, I managed through the pain.
It was almost 4 hours when they brought the baby to me. The nurses were just asking me what her name was going to be. I told them, I don't know just yet. We hadn't decided. Chris had walked in and informed them of her name. I was shocked. I was pleased. I was ecstatic! Then I had my turn of holding her, Chris whispers to me that I was the first...he had not held her yet. She was so tiny, so perfect...dark hair, olive skin, long fingers, long toes. Absolutely beautiful. Thank you God, she's amazing.