For those who are interested, here is our birth story for our baby, David Nyland Christopher. For fair warning, it is detailed and wordy because this blog is our family journal, and we want to remember everything -- the sights, the sounds, our feelings.
I want to say that I would be prepared for the birth of David, but even under the close supervision of a high risk OB (Regional Obstetrics Consultants) and a regular OB (Women's Physicians of Jacksonville) for the last 24 weeks or so, I still wasn't. I didn't know what, when, or how it all would happen exactly, but the day I went into the hospital I just had a feeling.
I had already had this feeling before, but with Emma. The day before I started having contractions, I felt a little off. In fact, I remember asking my husband and brother-in-law, Brad, for a blessing. The same thing happened with David. I was feeling tired, unusually more tired. I missed church (it was Stake Conference Sunday) and slept. Joel went ahead without me. I told him to take good notes. Because church was held at a different time, we had just put Emma down for a nap, so Joel felt okay leaving me. We both had a really good nap. I think Heavenly Father blessed me with this opportunity to sleep because I never get to nap when Emma naps. It usually never works out.
Joel and I had plans to go to his sister's for dinner. I felt quite rested and we had to eat anyway, so I thought it would be okay to go. I just told myself I was going to take it easy and sit on the couch most of the time we were there. For dinner, we had tortellini soup and dessert was spice cake. It was super tasty.
I remember talking with Brad and Lindley about how I felt like this baby just wanted to "head out". There was a lot of pressure really low. I felt like the baby was sitting so low the last couple of days and I even asked Lindley if she wanted to touch down there to see if it felt normal to her. She never did...because she was nursing Jayda, but I'm sure she would have. We have a special bond. Lol.
They sent us home with leftovers, which looking back, was pretty inspired. I'll explain in a minute.
We both did the night time routine with Emmy -- struggling to get Emmy more food to eat after dinner, bathtime, story time in mommy and daddy's bed, toothbrushing "fight", kisses and hugs for mommy, and Joel placing her in her crib and saying goodnight with a prayer and songs, "Love One Another" and "Silent Night".
I laid there in bed, silently, still and finally fully aware of my body. Night brings quiet time and reflection for me. Things slow down after Emma goes to sleep. I began to notice that at around 9pm, that "pressure" that I was feeling was becoming more intense and was coming at regular intervals. The lights turned on for me -- I was having contractions every 8 minutes. I continued to time them for another hour and a half before calling the doc. I didn't want it to be a false alarm.
When we called the doctor, he told us to wait another hour to see if the contractions would go away, and to call back if they didn't. Meanwhile, I told Joel to start packing our bags. He packed for me and Emma, in case we had to drop her off with someone. Because we didn't know when this would all happen, we didn't have a concrete plan of childcare for Emma. We called our friend, Kimberly Whipple, and she agreed to come over and stay with Emma while she slept.
The contractions didn't go away. They were surprisingly not painful, but very deliberate and steadily coming. The doctor on call, Frank Trogolo, told us to go to Baptist South, even though previously, they said if I delivered very early, they would send us to Baptist Downtown. Joel and I actually wanted to deliver downtown because we were told it was the best. Ironically, just the day before I took the tour of Baptist South's Labor and Delivery/Maternity Ward. I even pre-registered. It must have been fate that I was able to get that tour in...and it actually did make me feel more at ease because I knew where everything was, all my paperwork was in order, and it was all fresh in my mind.
Kimberly arrived and in our haste, I still managed to know my priorities. I packed food for the 30 minute car ride, even though I was completely stuffed from dinner. I even managed to eat one more serving of spice cake before leaving the house, for good measure, of course. Little did I know, that would be the last thing I ate until they let me eat again in the hospital. With Emma, it all happened so fast that I didn't get to eat a meal before being flown to Utah, and then they starved me for 50 hours before letting me eat ice chips, and administered tortuous magnesium sulfate all the while. I wasn't going to let that happen this time, at least, not on an empty stomach.
On the way to the hospital, Joel avoided a 10 car collision off of Kernan. We were driving pretty quickly, but he was able to see far enough ahead to know that cars were stopped on the road, some off to the side and some smack dab in the middle. As a car smashed into another car, sounds of screeching metal hitting the guardrail, he was able to think quickly and say that we needed to get off the road altogether and head for the exit ramp. He did some snake thing with our CRV winding through the hurricane of cars, and was able to safely get us off onto the exit. I remember yelling, "I don't feel safe! I don't feel safe!!!" As we were a little down the road, I continued to hear the sound of screeching cars and emergency braking with more cars impacting. I was so grateful that Joel was able to make these quick decisions. If I was driving, I would have probably just pulled off to the side and been rear ended. I was a deer in the headlights. I couldn't think clearly. I was frozen and scared. Joel handled it like a pro. We were able to drive just past all of the wreckage and proceed back onto the on ramp and barely lost any time. Heavenly Father was definitely looking out for us. I was grateful for Joel.
When we arrived at the hospital, it was about 10:30pm. We got admitted pretty quickly because the registration had been done. We actually spent more time waiting on a wheelchair to bring me up to the third floor. I tried chatting with the older black man who was wheeling me up, making small talk to take my mind off of things. I asked him how long he had been working at Baptist and if he liked it. He said 3 years and "no". He said it was time for a career change...I kinda felt sorry for him.
We arrived on the floor and they quickly whisked me into the triage room. They got me hooked up to a fetal heart rate monitor and measured that my contractions were 4 minutes apart. The baby's heart rate was normal and he seemed to be doing well despite what mommy was feeling. They had a really hard time starting an IV for me. Two nurses stuck me several times before they got a nurse anesthetist to come in. He only had to stick me once. His name was Tom. They immediately started me on fluids for hydration and the antibiotic ampicillin for possible Strep B. They also did a swap test to see if I would deliver, but it came out negative. I really didn't see the point in that test. Dr. Trogolo then arrived and came in and checked me. He said the cerclage was in place holding well and the ultrasound showed that I was still at 2.8cm, which was what I measured at 3 weeks prior. He said he was pleasantly surprised at my cervical length and foretold that I wasn't having this baby that night. He told me that I would need magnesium sulfate to stop the contractions and wanted the baby to get steroids for the lungs and head, two betamethasone shots 24 hours apart. They administer the first of two shots right there in my right butt cheek...ow.
After that, they brought me into my real room that I was going to be staying in; how long, I wasn't sure. I thought about this for awhile.
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