Worth It All

First I want to apologize for ever criticizing my blogging friends for not blogging everyday. It is hard when all you want to do in your "free" time is sleep.

This past week has been a world wind. For those that do not know, last Monday my water broke around 10am. My parents were in town on baby watch, and since I was showing no signs of going into labor anytime soon, we were getting ready to go the the aquarium. Needless to say, we never made it. Instead, John was called home from work and we were on our way to the hospital.

We arrived at the hospital around 12:30 pm. We got checked in, put in a room, got an IV, and eventually got an epidural. Things were going great. I was progressing quickly. Everyone thought that the baby would be born before 6:00pm. We watched a movie and friends and family came to visit. I felt great and super excited knowing that it was only going to be a few hours until I met my baby girl. Well, at 6:00 the baby still had not made it far enough down into the birth canal to start pushing. That did not happen until 8:30pm.

Everyone was sent from the room except John, of course, and the pushing began. And I pushed and pushed and pushed. At this point we knew that the baby was what they call sunny-side up. This means that she was facing towards my belly. Now babies can be born in this sunny-side up position, but it is just a little harder and more painful. (Thank goodness for the epidural.) Normally, as the mom pushes, the sunny-side baby will turn to face down. However, my stubborn little girl would not budge, and because of the sunny-side position every time I pushed the baby would barely move. In fact, in my 4 hours of pushing, she barely move half an inch.

John and I are sure that after 2 hours of pushing, the doctor new that this baby was not coming out vaginally without help. But she let me rest in different positions to try to get the baby to move. Nothing worked. At 12:30, Dr. McKinney said that it was not safe to continue to push. We had two options. First we could try to vacuum the baby out (which sounds horrible), or we could do a c-section. I was crushed. The last thing I wanted to do was to have to have a c-section. I had this great picture in my head of having the baby, her being placed on my chest, and listening to her first cries. I knew with a c-section, this would not be the case.

Dr. McKinney said that if we tried the vacuum, she would not be very aggressive at it. It was more of a tool to go along with my pushing. We decided to go this route and do everything we could to stay out of the operating room.

We tried, and we failed. The baby would not even move with the help of the vacuum. I was going to have to have a c-section. I was incredibly upset, but at this point we had tried everything we could. I knew that it was best for the baby to go ahead with the surgery.

At this point, John was getting suited up for the OR. Our parents came in to get my things and to say good luck. Being wheeled to the OR was kind of a blur. I knew my parents and John were following me. There were a bunch of people talking to each other and to me. I have no idea what they were saying. Once we reached the OR, they made John wait outside so they could prep me. I kept asking, "When is John coming?" Luckily, the anesthesiologist was super nice. He kept talking to me, trying to calm me down, telling me what was happening. Finally John was allowed in the room, and the surgery began. All I remember is staring at John the whole time.

After what seemed like forever, I heard the sweetest sound I ever heard. My baby's cry. Dr. McKinney said, "John, look over hear and get a picture of your daughter."

Earlier, I had told John to not worry about me. Once the baby was born, I did not want him to let her out of his sight. He followed the baby to the other side of the room to take pictures. I kept saying, "John bring me the camera, I want to see the pictures." He said back, "If you hold on a second, I will bring the baby to you." He brought her over for what seemed like a nanosecond before he went with her to the recovery room while the doctors were finishing up on me. Luckily, my friend the anesthesiologist, gave me a little something to help me relax, so it seemed like no time at all before I was reunited with my little family.

We had to stay in recovery for an hour and a half, or until I could wiggle my toes. Finally around 3:30am, we were wheeled into my hospital room where our parents had been waiting patiently. There we finally revealed her name, Rebecca Haws Kimball. Rebecca is my mother's middle name; Haws is John's mother's middle name. She was born September 11th and 1:25am. She weighed 8lbs. 5oz. She was 20 3/4 inches long. Her daddy and I think that she is the most perfect thing every created. Everything we went through, was worth it.

There is much more to tell, but it will have to wait for another day. It is now feeding time.