Since I didn't start this blog when Lucas was born, I thought I would back track a little and reminisce about the day when my little one entered this world, a day that seems so long ago already.
During my pregnancy I had gestational diabetes so I was being very closely monitored by my doctor, since it is the general case that babies with diabetic mothers are large in the midsection, and may be born with low sugar levels, this makes the delivery process a tad more delicate and difficult. So at 36 weeks I had a growth ultrasound to check the estimated weight of Lucas, and my doctor would then make a decision on whether an early induction would be advisable. He was in fact on the big side, but proportionate, which was great to hear, but my doctor felt that an induction would probably be necessary to avoid having me deliver a huge baby, since he was already almost 8.5 pounds, 4 weeks before his due date! To say that at this point I was dreading labour is an understatement.
Two weeks later I did another ultrasound and my doctor said an induction was inevitable as Lucas was weighing almost 9 pounds. So began one of the longest weeks of my life, and made the anticipation of holding my baby that more incredible.
On Monday September 17th, my OB sent the orders to the hospital for my induction and I was sent home to just wait for the call to come in. The next morning the hospital told me to come in at around 3 for an induction. I wasn't entirely sure what the process was going to be, if I only knew what the ordeal and waiting would entail I think I would have tried to mentally prepare myself a bit better, since by the time I was fully induced I was ready to claw this baby out with my bare hands, and I was a hormonal mess. I was given a dose of inducing gel, monitored for an hour and told to go home and wait, or like one nurse told me walk and have sex. Nothing happened, except I kept waking up in the middle of the night to pee and then could fall back asleep cause of the anxiety of waiting for something to happen. The next day I went back in for another round of inducing gel, was monitored and sent home again!!! Gianni took me out to dinner to try and get me to relax, and we went on several walks that evening. I was starting to get some cramps but nothing real was happening.
On Thursday I was so restless already, and the ordeal of heading to the hospital and being sent back home was starting to wear on my nerves. I was called into the hospital early that day, and I was just praying for some good news. After the doctor checked me, I was still not completely effaced, and I was barely a cm dilated, so she wanted to give me another dose of gel, at this point I put my foot down and said no, that they had to give me another option to induce. The only other option was inserting a folly in my cervix, which is essentially a ballon full of liquid, which my body would want to reject and therefore start contractions, but it was something they didn't advise cause the process of inserting the folly was said to be painful and uncomfortable. Now I have to admit, to those who don't know, getting pregnant was an ordeal for the hubby and I, and I had already endured several painful procedures and prodding, so I was not adverse to this method if it meant that it would start the process, so I signed off on it; and I'm so glad I went with my gut cause 5 minutes later I started getting contractions.
Oh contractions how I don't miss thee. The sudden rush of pain that came over me was intense, and they became more bearable after an hour or two, but at first, it literally took the wind out of me. Its kind of funny now in retrospect when I look back to those first few hours of labour. We were in a small pre-labour room, and I was walking around and would all of a sudden just let out these great big wails and rub my back profusely. I remember yelling at Gianni a few times for his inadequacy in rubbing the right spot knowing that my instructions on where that spot was may not have been that great. Oh how incoherent and unreasonable us women can be at labour, but I think we all have a right to be hehe. They finally admitted me and I was sent to my labour room where they started the pitocin and I could essentially start to labour!
My mom arrived at around 8pm that evening as my second support, and I'm so glad she was there with us. She knew what to ask the nurses when my brain stopped functioning, and Gianni was being a man. My mom took this pic of me shortly after she arrived, as my last pregnancy photo, I look already pretty tired from all the inducing drama.
At about 4 am Friday the nurse on duty suggested I get an epidural, and this is my biggest regret. I had always intended to get an epidural, but I feel that the nurse pushed to give it to me, and it was too early, and I wasn't dilated enough, which resulted in slowing everything down. I got very drowsy, and I felt very drugged up, then I got some sort of reaction to the epidural and felt extremely itchy all over, so the nurse gave me benadryl which just further slowed the process. The fact that Lucas' head was huge and was refusing to descend made for a very long day.
At about 12 that afternoon I felt the epidural wearing off, and was starting to feel the contractions again, so they gave me another dose. Something went wrong again here! It became clear an hour afterwards that the epidural needle must have moved cause I started feeling absolutely everything, and the contractions started coming fast and hard! For four hours I laboured all natural, and ended up dilating from 4 to 9.5 centimetres in those hours. I used every breathing technique I could think of, and I did not hold back I grunted and screamed out in pain, sometimes that was the only form of relief I could get. I can't fully remember or describe what is going on in your head at that moment, you know the pain means that your body is doing what its naturally made to do; and you're aware that it all means that you will have your baby in your arms, buts its hard to hold on to that sort of reason when your insides seem in revolt.
I need to take a moment here and talk about my support system throughout the labour, especially during those rough hours. My mom was there the whole time, washing my face with cool cloths, telling me to not hold back when I felt like I should keep the pain to myself, and just holding my hands (I gained super strength that day and may have done a number on her poor hands). I was so glad I had her in the room with me, cause she was such a calming presence to me and Gianni, and was always on top of everything with the nurses and doctors, so that I could try to be in the moment and enjoy what I could of the experience. For different reasons Gianni was an amazing support to me, he knows me so well, and sometimes he would lean over and caress my face, or hold my hand, and I could tell he was trying to mask the fact that he hated I was in pain, and he felt in his own way every moment of discomfort I had to bear. I could not have gone through it without them.
At around 7:30 that evening my doctor came in to check my progress and he concluded what I had been dreading, I was fully dilated but the baby had pretty much not dropped, his huge head was just not having it. I can't blame him I guess it would have been pretty uncomfortable for him hehe.
When I heard the decision that I would need to do a C-section something came over me and I just lost it. Chalk it off to being on meds for almost 24 hours, and the whole ordeal I had been going through I just started convulsively crying, and telling everyone I was sorry like I had failed in giving birth. A big part of the emotional breakdown was I had been desperately looking forward to delivering naturally and having the doctor lay my little man on my chest, and sharing that moment with my mom and hubby, and now I was being robbed of it. I look back, and this is going to sound so foolish and sadistic, but I'm actually glad I went through those hours of childbirth, cause at least I got to experience labour, and I wasn't just thrown into an operating room never knowing what I was missing. I'm not trying to glamorise it, I mean who am I kidding there is no sugar coating child birth, but for myself going through it meant the world, and made laying on that operating table a little more bearable.
I finally calmed down before heading to surgery, largely because of my little sister, of all people, who reasoned with me in a way far beyond her years. When Gyselle was born my mother had to undergo an emergency C-section as well, and I was blessed to be chosen to be in the room with her, making me the first person to hold the little munchkin. Here I was shuddering in tears, and this kid turns to me and says: "Sylvie, I had to be born that way too and I came out perfect, so don't worry Lucas will be perfect too!" What can I say to sound logic like that. I instantly smiled and laughed and felt all better.
During the surgery I was pretty calm, just waiting to hear that wonderful cry. Then I saw him. I don't know what to say about that moment. Relief that he was here, and indeed perfect as his aunt predicted. In awe watching him in his father's arms. Speechless from the tears I could see rolling down Gianni's eyes. Blissfull.
All I wanted was to hold him. The nurses couldn't get over how I had just had surgery yet I pretty much helped them get me onto the bed cause I was dying to hold my baby. Oh and how amazing did it feel to have that precious babe laying on my chest. I was wheeled into my room where my mom was anxiously waiting to meet her first grandson, and we just cried tears of happiness all together. It was late in the evening so everyone else met the little guy the next day, except for a very special guest.
A nurse let Gianni sneak Gyselle in, cause I had promised that she would be the second person to hold Lucas, and she was just so proud to be an aunt again.
Everyday since has been a blessing, and being his mother is more than I ever imagined.
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