Little Man

This is Luke's birth story, originally posted in a note on Facebook.  Mister Man gave us a run for our money.  He was due around January 11th (this year), tried to come on Christmas Eve, and then didn't even arrive until January 21st.  I think he will always want to keep me on my toes.  :)

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 January 29, 2011

Finally have a little bit of time to jot this down.  Mainly recording for those who knew I was trying for a VBAC and were so supportive and encouraging of our long wait to give me the best chance at one.  :)

At 41.5 weeks pregnant, my body finally began to show consistent signs of early labor.  A few days prior, a non-stress test and ultrasound showed Luke was healthy and contented while still in utero, and I had made some progress, so we chose to leave well enough alone for now.  Two days later, I went back for another check on him to find that I had been losing fluid and the placenta was starting to break down.  My doctor wanted to admit me that night, but I asked if we could wait til first thing in the morning (the 21st) so I could go home, get my things together, and have just a few more hours with Leila.  Doctor agreed, so I drove home in a snow storm to get myself ready.  Bo's mom drove down to stay with Leila, we made our final preparations, and Bo and I left at 4am for the hospital.

My doc had been very supportive of my decision to VBAC, so our plan of action was to encourage and augment the labor my body had already started, but being very wary of aggravating my c-section scar and avoiding uterine rupture.  We started at 5 and my body took to everything well and Luke was doing well.  My contractions started coming right on top of each other - wow.  That was uncomfy.  I knew I would want an epidural line put in in case we wound up in the operating room doing a c-section, so after breathing through them for a couple of hours  I asked for the epidural.  Soon after, my best friend Laura Ashley came - she was going to be our support person through labor, etc.  So glad to see her face.  :)  My contractions continued to pick up and progress was made - my water ruptured on its own, but in a slow leak.  A few hours later, my doctor decided to break the rest of the bag to progress things as there started to be some concern about Luke's heart rate and his head was not quite engaging. 

Things definitely sped up after that.  We tried different positions and movements and things were trucking along very quickly.  I had been in active labor for 8 hours at thispoint.  Then there was a change: one minute I'm laughing and joking with the nurses about the crazy hip movements I'm doing while praise and worship music is playing on my iPod, and before I knew it I was being told to lay back down and nurses were rushing in from everywhere - alarms going off - frantic asking who had paged my doctor, and no one could tell me what was going on (Bo and Laura were in the waiting area grabbing a quick lunch - which was about to be cut even shorter).  So I glanced at the monitor to see what was happening.  Luke's heart had gone from being consistently in the 140s/150s to the low 80s - and it didn't move.  I kept asking if he was ok and they tried to tell me he was but I didn't believe them - especially when my labor and delivery nurse started saying, "Come on, baby - hang in there - come on ..."  This went on for about 5 minutes.  I started rubbing my belly where I always felt his butt and started talking to  him, begging him to hang on, and his heart beat picked up a little bit.  Aparrently it was enough to buy us time to get to the OR, as that's where we rushed to next.

They had already changed my anesthesia at this point so it gets a little fuzzy here.  I remember my doctor coming in and telling me what needed to happen at that point to get him here safely and apologizing that the VBAC hadn't worked, and I remember saying, "Whatever!  Just get him out!"  Quickly wheeling into the OR, bright lights, soothing voices, a blue sheet way too close to my face shielding me from everything.  What I remember distinctly were three things:

1. The acute sharp pang of disappointment, the feeling of utter failure, as I had once again wound up having my child surgically cut from me in my inability to deliver him as God intended.  (Argue with the folly of this statement all you want, but it's how I felt at the time.)

2. Bo coming in - never had anyone in a blue paper suit looked so much like a knight in shining armor.  He immediately grabbed my hand and I held on for dear life.  He watched the whole procedure this time, and again, watching HIS face as he saw our son being born was the second best thing to MY being able to see it.  As soon as we heard that cry, we both looked at each other with joyful tears streaming down our faces.

3. Kissing Luke's sweet face for the first time, as soon as they'd wrapped him up, being awash in relief knowing he was ok and I was ok.  Suddenly it no longer mattered to me HOW he got there; just that he was there.  All nine pounds of him.  :)  (His APGAR was a 9, by the way.)

Bo went with Luke for all his post-birth stuff while I was sewn up and sent to recovery where Luke would be brought to me so I could nurse him.  The only hiccup was that his blood sugar was too low, so the nurses gave him a little bit of formula.  I guess this wouldn't have bothered me so much except that had I been informed (even though they told Bo, but daddies don't think about these things) I would have told them to not use milk-based as he was probably allergic - came to find out later he was, which made for a tummy ache, but once it was all out of his system he was fine.  It didn't hurt his ability or desire to nurse AT ALL.  This dude was a breastfeeding champ from the starting line.  Woot!

The hospital stay went by in a relatively peaceful and happy blur (thanks to lots of Percocet and just loving my son and real life being put on hold).  The chaos began the day we went home ... and has continued through now.  And I do mean chaos.  Luke is doing well, though it seems like I'm daily adding to the list of foods he's sensitive to that I'm having to cut out of my diet.  But he sleeps relatively well and is generally a contented little guy, very sweet and snuggly, and I swear (despite the naysayers) he has brown in his eyes!  The most challenging part about coming home has been navigating the landmine that is Leila Grace and her emotions.  She is taking this a lot harder than any of us anticipated.  Even with my parents here now, so four adults in all, it's a challenge to handle.  So if you send any prayers our way, please say them for my Leila - my heart is breaking as I see her hurting, and she won't let me near her at the moment.  To know I caused this but I can't fix it, at least not yet, is the most painful part of all.  I know it will get better soon.  But for now, that's the hardest thing.  Despite all that, though, her ire isn't directed at Luke; she's actually quite sweet with him.  She always wants to give him a kiss and pat his head or hold his tiny hands.  So I know there's hope ...

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading!  For those friends of mine who are hoping for VBACs, I just want to encourage you to pursue it within reason, do all you can, and stand up for yourself, but don't beat yourself up if it's not meant to be.  I'm still working on that, too.  Thank you ALL, dear friends, for your encouragoing posts and messages throughout the whole pregnancy and after Luke's arrival!  They have all helped so much.

Here's to a new chapter, the Jessop family of four ...