14 1/2 and Sunny Side Up

I briefly considered telling this story by just saying..."Hey, I had a kid.  Her name is Vivienne Loraine.  Born February 2nd at 11:29 p.m.  8 lbs. 4 oz. 20 inches long.  The end."

But I have decided to bore you with every last detail of this girl's arrival instead.  Enjoy!

I had gone in for an appointment Wednesday afternoon and after being told I was dilated to 3.5 and still 80 % effaced, I allowed the doc to proceed with the lovely process of membrane stripping.  Cringe!  She informed me that if I didn't have the baby by Monday (my due date), she would be willing to just go ahead and induce me that day.  She must have noticed the desperation on my face.  Actually, when she was walking out of the room, she said I could call on Friday if I just couldn't stand it anymore.  I love her.  Side note...while doc was doing the stripping, she actually felt the baby's hand reach up above her head and nudge her fingers.  It made her giggle.

Fast forward to Thursday, 11 a.m.  I finally gave in to Doug's "let's get this process going" suggestion and almost immediately after, I started having some pretty strong contractions.  I figured they would hang out for a while, and then fade away.  Because, it couldn't be that easy!  So, I just kept myself busy.  Showered, vacuumed, cleaned the kitchen, scrubbed the toilets.  The contractions just kept coming.  Doug was convinced I was in labor, I was not.  It didn't feel dramatic enough for me.  I needed something more obvious, something to smack me across the head that said "YOU'RE IN LABOR!"  The contractions were strong, and I was feeling a lot of pressure, but not intense enough to make me sure it was the real thing.  After several hours of nagging from D and my friend Veronica, I decided to call my doctor.  I talked to a nurse and she suggested I come to the hospital.  Fine.  I'll go.  But, I'm not in labor!  I really didn't want to get all the way up there and have them send me home!  It was around 4:30 and the kids were home from school.  Payton had been begging me for months to be in the delivery room and up until that moment I was undecided.  He thought he heard us say he couldn't come and I saw the devastation on his face, so I knew he was coming with us.  We hopped in the car, Veronica stayed with the girls and we headed north. 
We got checked in and met my nurse.  She told me that she had read my chart and she wasn't even gonna bother putting me in an exam room to rule out labor.  She was just taking me to a delivery room.  I was a bit shocked but shrugged my shoulders and said OK.  I still wasn't convinced this was the real thing.  I got changed into the ever-so fashionable hospital gown and then she checked my progress.  I was at a 5 now.  So...they decided to keep me there.  I guess I was in labor.  Go figure.

IV, check
Epidural, check
Breaking of water, check
Dilated to an 8

Everything was dandy and smooth.  Our friends, Ron and Jill had come to the house and fed our girls dinner because our grandma and grandpa plan didn't work because of grandma needing to teach institute.  Ron and Jill just couldn't stand it, so they loaded everyone in the car and came to the hospital.  When the girls came in, they looked wide-eyed and a bit concerned.  Jilli got a little teary-eyed.  At this point, I had started my usual uncontrollable shaking.  It made the girls even more concerned.  I had to keep telling them that I was fine.  They explored the room and I think my nurse was getting a little irritated, but oh well!

This is me on drugs.

The waiting game slowed a bit after getting to an 8.  I could feel the contractions...but not totally.  I was kind of waiting for the epi to really kick in.  I could still move my legs a bit and wiggle my toes...I should have been more concerned.  It was getting late (about 10 p.m.) so Ron and Jill decided to take the girls back home.  They were going to bring them in from the waiting room to say goodbye.  Then all of the sudden...I HAD TO PUSH.  I have never had the sensation before because of how much my epidural was masking the pain and urge.  With wide eyes and a strange act of finger snapping, I told Doug to get the nurse.  Just at that moment all the girls came in to say goodbye.  Oh goodness.  I tried to hurry and kiss and love on them.  They decided they would hang out in the waiting room a little longer because we thought the baby wouldn't take too long to arrive.  The nurse and the doc came in and checked...yep, I was 'complete'.  The doc took his position and started doing a few things, and I realized that I could feel everything he was doing.  Ummm...that's not suppose to happen.  But alas, it was too late to call in the anesthesiologist to up the dosage.  I was just gonna have to grin and bare it.  Super!

I started to push.  And then I pushed a little more.  And then a little more.  And then a little more.  Nothing seemed to be happening.  30 minutes passed.  45 minutes.  Seriously?  I got the last couple of kids out in 4 pushes.  What was going on here?  (By this time, Ron and Jill had taken the girls home.)  The time between contractions was spent making silly jokes and light conversation and listening to Payton complain about how long it was taking. I remember saying "I wonder if she will see her shadow?"  (Since it was Groundhog Day).  I think I got a courtesy laugh from everyone.  "Laugh at the joke the lady in labor made or it could get ugly!"  The baby finally made her way to where she was suppose to be and OH.  MY.  GOODNESS!  I will be perfectly honest right now.  I don't handle pain very well and this was beyond painful.  I'm not one of those women who feels empowered by facing this birthing thing naturally.  She was down right stuck and I felt like I was gonna tear in half.  So much pressure.  So much pain.  And I was so very tired.  I tried to keep a positive attitude and not scream or cry.  I didn't scream, but I did get a bit emotional.  I warned everyone that it was gonna happen.  The last couple of pushes I almost couldn't bring myself to do.  I felt like I had less than nothing left.  But, I dug deep and bore down and finally after pushing for over an hour...

she came out.  They layed her on my chest and I was so relieved to be done.  She looked almost albino because of the amount of vernix she was covered in.  We just laid there weeping a little together and then she stopped and looked around like she was taking it all in...didn't make a sound. 

The doctor was doing all the after stuff (which included A LOT of stitches) and when I looked at him, he seemed a little perplexed.  Not necessarily a look you want to see on your doctors face when he is taking care of your girl business.  I asked if everything was OK and he said that part of the placenta was still inside and that he was trying to get it out.  His "I'm trying to not hurt you" approach wasn't working, so he had to do the "this is going to be really uncomfortable" approach instead.  He had to reach up into my uterus to get the missing pieces.  I thought his whole arm had disappeared.  Now, remember...my epidural wasn't working.  This had to be one of the most uncomfortable things I've ever experienced.  Unfortunately, he was unable to get every tiny piece, but he didn't think they would be problematic.  They gave me an anti-biotic through my iv to help fight off the possibility of infection. 

Payton's thoughts on being in the delivery room...."I thought it was interesting and fun to see my little sister.  I wish I hadn't walked back behind the curtain that last time because 2 seconds later, pop, she came out.  When I cut the cord it was really worm like."

(He was getting really bored because it was taking so long so he would disappear into the extension part of the room to read and play his DS, and had just went back in there when she finally made her arrival.  He didn't make the initial cut of the cord, he did a second cut with the nurse after they weighed and measured her.)

She stayed wide awake for about 2 hours!

This is Dr. Bell.  I was so stoked when I found out that he was the doc on call that evening!! 

Upon weighing and measuring her, they of course measured her head.  14 1/2 inches!  Yeah, I know.  That's a big noggin'!  But then the doc informed me that she was born OP...which is also known as 'sunny side up.'  That means her face was up instead of down when I pushed her out.  Making the delivery even more difficult.  You see, the skull plates on the back of a babies head are what is supposed to move together when being delivered.  When the face is up...no plates move.  Super sweet, huh!?  Apparently Dr. Bell and the nurses were stunned at the size of her head and her being flipped.  No wonder I felt like I was going to tear in half.  Later on we discovered that because of the sunny side up thing, her head had bruised pretty bad.  She looked like she had stripes!  I lovingly called them her racing stripes.

We got transferred into our recovery room a couple hours later (about 2 am) and as expected I got absolutely no sleep.  Doug and Payton crashed on the most comfortable couch and cot ever (sarcasm intended) while the babe and I cuddled in my hostpital bed.  Morning came like a speeding train. 

That afternoon, Grandma and Grandpa brought the girls to meet their new little sister.  I was a little worried because apparently Jillian had been throwing up all night.  But thankfully she was all right when they got there. When we told the girls about the sunny side up occurance, Jillian suggested we name her Sunny.  Such logic from my 5 year old.

We enjoyed lots of visitors throughout the day and loved all the goodies they brought.  We felt very special and loved!

I stayed another night upon request of the pediatrician.  That evening (Saturday) was spent trying to pick a name for our poor child.  Apparently Doug didn't feel like Vivienne fit.  He went through every name he could find on his internet accessible phone.  There were some dozzies.  I can't believe what people have named their children.  D went home that night still pondering on a name that suited the child and took care of the other kids and the babe and I toughed it out all alone.  We did OK...but I got kind of lonely.  Doug came back the next morning to take us both home.  We made the name Vivienne Loraine officail when we filled out the paperwork.  The discharge process took for.ev.er!!  But we eventually made it out and were on our way back to reality.

Vivienne's going home outfit.  'Mommy rocks!'  Well...I do!

Holding Payton's finger.

Holding Savannah's finger.

So there you have it.  A baby story.  Another Gifford.  Another girl.  Another blessing.