January 20, 2005
The Birth Story, part 2
Thanks to the spinal, I couldn't feel any pain, just dull sensations. It felt like the docs were getting rough, since my body would be shoved back and forth at times, but I trusted their experience.
The anesthesiologist kept up the chatter, talking to me and Dale. Finally, he said I would feel some pressure. Abruptly, it felt like both doctors were leaning all their body weight on my chest. Brian (the anesthesiologist) said, "so there will be a little labor!" There were two instances of the intense pressure, making me grimace and gasp, then Brian said, "we have a head!" I immediately burst into tears. Just a moment later, I could hear a baby crying. In Dale's video, at this point, he cuts away from my face and gets a shot of Olivia just after she was delivered. The doctor held her high and I got a brief glimpse of this dark, squirming, angry little baby before she was whisked away to be cleaned and measured.
I continued to cry. I was just so relieved. Up until that point, I had been so scared that something would go horribly wrong. Now that she was actually out of me, a massive load of stress dropped away. I knew another bigger load was imminent, but at that time, all I felt was joy and relief.
The doctors weren't finished with me yet. Dr. Storey still had to remove my left fallopian tube and they had to close up my uterus, put it back inside me, and then close up me. Dale had stayed by my side, taping the nurses from across the room as they worked on Olivia, until he was invited over to watch them. I didn't know it at the time, but they had inked Olivia's feet to stamp the (not a legal document) birth certificate, then they pressed her feet against the hospital smock he was wearing. He stayed with Olivia until the nurses finished and she was put into his arms. Then he was allowed to carry her over to me and I got my first good look at our daughter. She was perfect, of course, and had an amazing amount of black hair. She also looked rather dark-skinned, which surprised me, since Dale and I and our families are all pretty fair-skinned. She also looked very Asian. Much more than I do.
The doctors still weren't done with me, so Dale left to take Olivia to the nursery while my surgery wrapped up. When I was done, I was wheeled to a recovery room and told I'd be there for at least an hour. That made me pretty sad as I really wanted to be with Dale and Olivia. Unfortunately, I was alone for quite some time, except for the nurses. I was so tired but I fought falling asleep because I was afraid they wouldn't wake me if Dale came back or I had any other visitors. I just chatted with the nurses and kept watching the clock until a curtain was drawn around me and I couldn't see it any more.
Dale returned after what seemed like hours. Then I got to see his smock with its footprints. The nurses had also drawn a big heart around the footprints and written "It's a girl" and Olivia's birth stats on his smock. I did note that Dale looked extremely cute in his hospital scrubs.
He stayed with me a bit then left again, I don't remember for how long. I know the nurse currently watching me was ready to move me down to my room, but she was waiting for a sign-off on some paperwork. Finally another nurse came by and told her to go ahead and move me. Dale was back by then and he wheeled me on my bed out to the elevator. When we reached the nursery, we were greeted by a good number of Dale's family. His Grandmom and Al, Karen and Thor (mom and step-dad), Adam (brother), Art (dad), and Mark (uncle). Jill and Allison (sister and niece) and Vonna and Race (aunt and cousin) had been there earlier, but had needed to leave before I arrived. Olivia was in a bassinet under a heat lamp right by the window, but I couldn't see her from my hospital bed. One of the nurses held her up for me and I was surprised to see that she was still naked. She didn't look as dark-skinned any more, mostly because a lot of the birth goo had been cleaned off of her. After my viewing, I was wheeled into my room. Dale hadn't been kidding when he said it was right across from the nursery. They really just turned me 90 degrees from the window and through the opposite doorway.
Getting into the bed in my room was an effort. It had been about three hours by now, but the best I could do was wiggle my legs slightly. What I had to do was hunch my shoulders and help Dale and the nurse inch-worm me from the bed I was on to the bed in the room. It wasn't fun or easy. Once I was in place and decently covered again, the family was allowed in to see me. I was so exhausted at this point that I don't remember much. I still wanted to hold Olivia, but that wouldn't happen until much later.
I was served lunch at some point and discovered I was on a clear liquids diet. Still, I was hungry enough that the beef broth, Jell-O, and juice was great. I passed on the iced tea and lemon sorbet. I think I might have napped. I know I talked to people. Nurses were in and out. Dr. Storey came by. Family members told me they liked the pediatrician, who I hadn't met yet. (She had been recommended by my ob/gyn.)
I had expected to see and hold and feed Olivia at least one to two hours after delivery. She wasn't brought to me until early that evening. She had a bit of jaundice and they'd had a little difficulty warming her under the heat lamp. I asked for the lactation consultant to come when they finally brought her to me and was told she was on vacation in Hawaii. Still, one of the nurses stayed to help me figure out how to breastfeed Olivia. (It isn't NEARLY as simple as you'd think.) I probably cried again once Olivia was put into my arms. Even though I'd seen her already, I was amazed at her tiny size. We had decided to have the C-section because the ultrasounds had indicated that Olivia was getting big (8 1/2 lbs at 37 weeks - Dr. Storey thought she might be 9 lbs by the time of the C-section). Instead, she was almost two pounds lighter than we'd expected and so small! Her fingers and toes looked like amazing miniatures. Her eyebrows were well-shaped though very fine. Her cheeks were very full and chubby. We all wondered what color her eyes were.
My parents and sister were scheduled to arrive at the airport just after 8pm. Visiting hours ended at 9pm. We hoped desperately that they'd make it to the hospital in time to see me and Olivia. That wish was one of the many granted that day. Thor arrived with my family at 8:45pm. Their flight had left early, arrived early, and they'd skipped picking up their luggage. More hugs, cuddling, and talking took place. My family stayed until about 9:15pm, then Thor took them back to the airport to get their luggage.
Dale stayed with me in the hospital. There was a small sofa that extended out to become a sleeper. Olivia stayed with us until we were ready to sleep, then we had her taken to the nursery. She would be brought to us for feedings, but would sleep at the nursery.
And thus concluded Olivia's birth day.
Diaper Changing: A Cautionary Tale
A warning: The following post contains lots of baby poo. If you can't handle that, stop reading now.
Early yesterday evening, I checked Miss Olivia's diaper. I saw a little bit of poop, so I set her on the bed to change her. (Because the changing table is covered with baby clothes and other items that haven't been organized or put away yet.) Everything was going as usual. Dale walked in and asked how the dirty diaper was and I reported it had just been a small amount of poop. He said, "that means more is coming soon." He was right. Very very right.
I had just finished wiping her clean and was pulling the fresh diaper under her bottom when her butt appeared to explode. Since I was in the process of positioning the new diaper, I had hold of both her ankles with my left hand and her butt was well clear of the bed. I saw poo start to shoot out of her bottom. I screamed and heard my mother's echoing scream. I jumped to the side and closed my eyes just as I felt stuff hit my head. There was a moment of stunned silence, then everyone started laughing.
I said, "I have poop in my bangs!" I was laughing and holding Olivia's legs, but I still hadn't opened my eyes yet. I was afraid of what I'd see. I knew the carnage had to be bad. I was very right. When I finally looked down, there was poo splattered off the edge of the bed and across the floor. Then Dale said, "look at your Mom!" I turned to my right and saw that my poor poor mother had gotten the worst of the explosion. She literally had poop on her from head to toe. Apparently I'd jumped aside in time to let my Mom get the full force of Olivia's butt.
I just about wet my pants from laughing. It was a couple of minutes before I could calm down enough to hand Olivia to Dale to finish diapering her. I had to go clean myself. Mom and I walked into the bathroom and I saw that I only had a little bit of poop in my bangs and on my shirt and arm. Mom looked like she'd been sprayed with a poo hose. We both spent a few minutes laughing while trying to clean up. I satisfied myself with sticking my head under the sink faucet and wiping up the poo splatters on my shirt and arms. Poor Mom first tried to help us with poo clean up but I shooed her away and told her to get herself cleaned up. She had started scrubbing the spots on the carpet. I took over that until Olivia started demanding to be fed, then Dale worked on the carpet while I nursed the baby.
It probably took close to 30 minutes of scrubbing to get the carpet clean. Then we had to pretreat the comforter and any clothing that had gotten dirty. And the two baby blankets that had been on the bed and got hit by small amounts of baby poo fallout.
Dale was the only one of us to escape the Poo Cannon. He'd been standing far to my left at the bedroom door, well out of the blast zone. Still, he ended up getting dirtied by accidentally bumping into Mom as she left to clean up and then by putting his hand into the pile of poo that hadn't made it past the changing pad. He also let Olivia stick her hand in poo, so she got a fresh change of clothes in addition to the fresh diaper.
We've heard Olivia poop before. It's a disturbingly loud rumble followed by splatting sounds. I've even had her let loose a load while changing her. Dale learned the hard way that you always have to put her on a changing pad. But until last night, we had no idea that a baby weighing less than seven pounds could shoot poop three feet into the air and almost four feet out. Poo Cannon indeed.
One person was unfazed by the incident. Despite the screaming, the hysterical laughter, and all our other antics, Olivia never flinched. In fact, she smiled a bit. We think she was pleased with herself. But we'll have our revenge. Some day, years from now, she will hate us for sharing this story. She's lucky we didn't have the video camera running.