We reported for duty promptly at 7:15 pm on Monday, July 9. Other than forgetting my wallet (which my sweet mom and sister rushed over), check-in was a breeze. Our goal was to be in our room by 8 so that I could watch the bachelorette. Little did we know, our time in the waiting room was just the beginning of A WHOLE LOT of exactly that... w-a-i-t-i-n-g.
I think it was close to 9:00 pm before someone came to get us and take us to a room. We were told the hospital had just implemented a new computer system so everything was taking longer than usual. (This will come up again and again over the next five days.) We were escorted back to labor and delivery, room 166. The nurse handed me a gown and told me to undress. From that point on, a steady stream of people were in and out of our room non-stop. Some would focus on me; others were crowded around the computer talking to themselves trying to figure out how to "chart" in the new system.
Although I wanted to try and deliver Keller naturally, we decided to go ahead and have the nurses install the "portal" that would be used for fluids and medication should we get to the point that an epidural was needed/wanted. (Hindsight... VERY smart move!) I told Mike I felt like Jack Bower being injected with a tracking device. (See picture below.) After my gear was in place, our night nurse checked to see how dilated I was (2cm) and under the doctor's direction went ahead and gave me a cervidil to try and soften my cervix.
Within a couple hours I started having contractions. They weren't too bad for the first hour or two, so I let Mike sleep. I felt strong and confident as I alternated between walking around the room, bouncing on the birthing ball, and trying different yoga postures (lotus, cat/cow) on the hospital bed. But as time passed, the contractions got worse... and worse... and worse. By 5:00 am I woke Mike and told him that (at the very least) he had to sit there and watch what I was going through.
At this point every ounce of modesty in my body had gone straight out the window. I was in so much pain I could not walk, sit up, or hardly talk. In fact, I would try to say things to Mike and (not exaggerating) after every single thing I said he would reply, "what did you say?" As you can imagine, the last thing you want to do when you are in pain is repeat yourself constantly, so there were definitely times that I may have snapped at him. There were also points when Mike would come over to listen more closely to what I was saying or to rub my back - to which I tended to respond, "don't talk to me; don't touch me." Poor guy must have been so lost. There I was with one knee on the bed, the other foot on the floor, my hospital gown draped wide open, moaning... At the time I thought I was going to die. Thankfully, we both got a good laugh about this a couple hours later.
Around 6:00 am I started begging for medicine and Mike went out and to try and convince the nurses that I needed attention. I think they had somewhat forgotten about us, in part because I was the girl who wanted to do this naturally (ha!) and in part because they were so consumed with the darn new computer system that they had forgotten I existed. But once they came in and saw how strong and how close my contractions were, you could tell everyone got a little nervous. I was still only 2 cm dilated, and the contractions were so close together that the baby's heart rate was not fluctuating like it should. They immediately put the Jack Bower portal to use and gave me a drug called Nubain to help slow the contractions and ease the pain.
The Nubain helped, but within an hour and a half, we were right back where we started and by this point I was screaming for an epidural. So that's what we did. Once I had an epidural, it was smooth sailing for hours. I quickly progressed to a 6 and eventually to an 8. My family came in and visited for a while. I was checking work emails and posting on facebook. Everything was peachy-keen, and it looked like I would start pushing around 3 pm.
3 pm came and went, but 8 cm stuck around. And for the next five hours we tried more waiting and even pitocin, but nothing was working. By 8 pm it was time for a c-section.
Once my doctor made the call to do a c-section, things moved quickly (for the first time all day). Mike was asked to put on a space suit while I was wheeled down the hall (like you see on tv), hooked up to even more machines, and transferred to a new bed. They strapped my arms down in a t-position and ramped up the meds which made me start to shake uncontrollably. (Imagine being at the top of Mt. Everest with no clothes on, only I did not feel cold.) There were a ton of people in the room, but all I could see were two large drum lights, a blue tarp and the hands of a women whom I think was the anesthesiologist. The past 24 hours (heck, the past nine months) had moved so slowly and now everything was moving at warp speed. All I could do was repeat the prayer I had been praying for MKB all along. "May you be happy, healthy, safe, smart, and at east. May you be happy, healthy, safe, smart, and at east..."
After I was all set and ready to go, someone brought Mike into the room and positioned on a stationary chair behind my left shoulder. He was told not to stand up until the doctor gave him the okay, and with that, the cutting began.
It's hard to explain what a c-section feels like because you definitely feel touch and pressure... just not pain. There is also so much conversation going on in the room that it's hard to concentrate on any one thing. The doctor is talking to the nurses, nurses are talking to other nurses, and the anesthesiologist is talking to me. I vaguely remember someone telling Mike to tell me I was doing well, but I think we were both so over stimulated that neither one of us could articulate any type of coherent statement. I remember someone telling me I was going to feel a lot of pressure, the doctor saying "boy, he really doesn't want to come out," and then... I heard the cry.
I tear up just thinking about it. I have never waited so long to hear anything in my life. It was the first indication that our son was ok and that we were officially a mom and a dad. For a brief second someone held our precious baby boy up above the blue tarp extending out from my chest and I got to see his precious face. It was quick, but it was perfect. Tears poured down my face and I remember telling Mike, "go with the baby!"
Unfortunately, when you have a c-section, there is no real way to have skin-on-skin time with your baby after they come out. Thankfully, I had asked about this prior to the surgery, so the entire team knew I really wanted a couple of minutes with him before he was taken away to the nursery. So shortly after he was born, while the surgery team worked on putting my organs back in place and closing the incision, Mike and a nurse brought Keller over and put his cheek against my wet, tear-stained cheek. It was an incredible, "thank you God" moment. I could not see him... I could only feel him. But he was real, and alive, and he was ours.
After our brief moment together, Mike and the baby were taken away. Mike would later tell me that after completing a series of tests in the operating room, they handed him the baby and pointed down the hall to the nursery. I can just imagine how nervous Mike Bucy must have been carrying this brand new baby boy down the halls of Womens Hospital! While they were gone, I was "sealed-up" and taken to a recovery room where the theme of the day ("waiting") re-surfaced once again.
After sitting in recovery for close to an hour and a half, listening to the three nurses outside of my curtain attempt to navigate through their new computer program, I finally voiced frustration for the first time all day. I wanted to go see my family! And with that, they wheeled me back down the hall, this time to the mother-baby unit and into room 146. I remember passing by the waiting room (that looks into the nursery) and seeing my entire family crowded around the nursery glass - smiles beaming across their faces. They ran to the door as my bed rolled past and I think every one of us started to cry. Mike, the baby, my parents, Mallory and Reid, and my grandmother all followed me into my new room. I remember trying to drag myself from the surgery bed to the new bed where I would sleep for the rest of the week. I felt so strong and "with it;" looking back, I was ABSOLUTELY delirious. But nothing mattered... We had done it. Michael "Keller" Bucy was here. And as they say, the rest is history.
My "Jack Bower" tracking device/portal.
An incision on the front of my gown that I thought was for breast feeding, but clearly is not!
As usual, Mike got comfortable quickly.
Dad, still in his space suit" with our brand new baby boy.
Poor Keller had quite a cone head when he first came out. Mike says the first thing that ran through his mind when he saw him was, "Well, we didn't get a cute one but I still love him." LOL
Sweet boy getting all cleaned up.
Apparently, they put some type of wash in there eyes to clear our infection/goo.
Father/son
Finally, some peace and quite for our little man.
Look alikes.
A very proud, happy daddy.
A very worn out but elated me with the two most important people in my life.
