A New Life

Get ready folks, cause this is a long one.

 CW: gory details of surgery/childbirth, anatomical descriptions

Note: I originally wrote this back in like, June, but it took me a lot longer to get back to writing it and then I lost half my progress and had to start over. Hoping to have this done before 3rd month Bday but... who knows. anyway, back to the story.

Well, I made it. WE made it. As many of you already know, I successfully created life and now I am holding a wonderful baby in my arms. (well, actually she's wrapped up on my chest in a scarf so I can type, but whatever... details details). But how did we get here? That's a good question.

It all started on May 17th, at about 1am.

I had woken up from a brief sleep and felt... weird. I felt a slight... slipping sensation down in my groin. a few moments later, a significant amount of fluid came out too, but not as much as one would expect if it was water breaking. So I grabbed my phone and messaged my husband who was downstairs (he stays up later than I do cause insomnia and I also didn't want to yell), and just let him know that I feel like I was a little bit leaky. I couldn't really tell if it was bloody or not cause I had my husband grab me a black towel, but it was just enough liquid that I decided to call the doctor.

During one of my previous doctors appointments, they had discovered that my body has a bacteria called Strep B, which is totally common and harmless to adults, but to an infant it could cause sepsis or pneumonia, which is bad. All I would have to do for it was to come in a little earlier during the labor process and get some antibiotics. easy enough. Anyway, when I called the doctor, she suggested to go and get checked out by the hospital just in cause it was the start of real labor and I needed to start the antibiotics, so we did. My husband and I got our go-bag and a few other things ready and hopped in the car and drove the very short distance to the hospital.

I got admitted and went to go get checked out by the nurse, having a monitor placed on my belly to track my baby's heartbeat and another one to monitor if I was having contractions. It wasn't so bad, but it was a little unnerving trying to wait to see if it was really time or not. That, and my husband was fighting off both fatigue and anxiety, but mostly the former since the benadryl he takes every night was kicking in. The only thing worse than that was getting checked for dilation, which for any of you who don't know involves the nurse/doctor sticking their hands up inside to feel the cervix itself. When my doctor did it on the 7th at my last in person appointment, I was only .25cm dilated. Now, it was 1cm. mild improvement but not enough to stay in the hospital. That, and the fluid that came out of me was NOT amniotic fluid, so I wasn't starting labor. So now that I was nice and sore from them checking, they sent us back home and told us to just call back in anything major changes, like starting contractions, or if I bled a lot, or if it was suddenly super painful to lay down (which it was starting to be).

As soon as we got home, that's when the pain started.

Every 3 to 5 to 10 to 15 minutes, I was hit with a sudden and debilitating pain that was primarily located in my groin. When the doctor described to me what contractions were actually like, rather than the practice Braxton-Hicks ones, is a sweeping pain or cramping feeling that stemmed from the top of my stomach and radiated around and down to my back, as if the uterus was starting to squeeze from the top down. I was unsure that these were real or not, but my mother did tell me that when she gave birth to both me and my sister, she only felt the contractions in her lower belly, like I currently was. It was nearly impossible to sleep consistently, constantly reeling in the pain for several hours. We got home around 3am. I was like this for hours, and the amount of pain I was in was the most I had ever felt, or at least at that point (spoiler alert, there was more to come).

By 6 or 7am, I finally drug myself out of bed and crawled into the bathtub to hopefully ease my pain a little with some hot water. Aside from having the wonderful company of both Momo and Carmen, our resident water cats, the bath helped a little bit, but not enough to really do anything else. Eventually I crawled back out and tried to lie back down (which was extremely painful enough as it was) and get just a little more sleep. The entire time I had been awake I was in communication with my parents, letting them know that it was possibly time (?) but I would keep them posted. Once I had woken back up again, I was going to call the doctor back and let them know how things were going. Luckily, my husband was able to get some sleep during the night and I was able to be quiet enough in wincing as not to wake him too many times. Its not that he wasn't aware or apathetic, I was actively trying to let him sleep since I knew I would need him to be cognitive later.

I called the doctor back and told her what was going on again, about the severe pain I was in and also about the bits of blood I was seeing when I went to the bathroom now (though she said it was probably just from having my cervix checked). She said that if I was really concerned, I could go back and get re-admitted, so I decided to go back. Hopefully this time they wouldn't send me back home to sit and be in pain. Once again, my husband and I gathered our things, including a few things we missed the first time out, like antacid tablets for me (heartburn was a huge thing, thing was a hairy baby), hopped in the car, and left home by ourselves for the last time.

But first, we stopped for coffee. (though I actually got an Italian cream soda but whatever. details details).

Being at the hospital on a lovely Sunday morning was not unusal for me, since I had been working weekends there for the last several months anyway (minus the last one or so, not cause I had been unable to do my transporting job cause of the baby, but I had to refuse so many transports for patients who may or may not have covid and since I was the only transporter on... I wasn't really all that much help, so I let someone else take over). Once again we got escorted back upstairs to the OB floor and re-checked in, back in the blue backless hospital gown and back on the fetal monitors. And once again... here came the fun part, checking the cervix.

Here's where the TMI really kicks in, but for educational purposes and since none of you will ever be near this part of my body, I have no problem sharing with you these details. Especially since I am not the only one in the world who may or may not have this. #raisingawareness

The first nurse came up and got ready to check, which involves putting two fingers as far up the vagina as she could until she could feel the cervix, however she encountered a bit of a problem, and it wasn't just me being in such immense pain from that. Seriously, it hurt more than the contractions. She tried to find the cervix but had a little trouble, and decided to stop after seeing how bad it was, that and she felt what she described as an extra line of tissue which seemed to be in the way. She told me that she was going to get another nurse to check and that she was sorry she had to do it again. I told her it's fine, you have to check and I understood. So a few minutes later and someone with much gentler hands came in and slowly talked me through the process, instructing me when to breathe as she felt around.

Good news: I had progressed to 5cm dialed. Bad news: that long tissue was going to pose a problem.

They called the doctor to come in and said we were going to discuss some options, but she wouldn't be in until 10am. The nurses also told me that they probably wouldn't send me home, but they don't know what the time frame for that dilation was so... eh? They also mentioned something called a septum vagina, which is where the vagina itself has an extra tissue or tendon or something in it, which was most likely what I had and why it was so painful for me to have my cervix checked, and how it's stretching posed a problem with having a natural delivery, and the possibility of it tearing and or hemorrhaging, WHICH IS BAD. So, they left us to wait for another hour or so and in the meantime, my husband and I turned to google.

Now, if you want to know more details of what a septum vagina is, then you can go google it yourself. This is a personal blog post, not a research paper. However, knowing what we do now, so much of my personal experiences make a lot more sense given how my anatomy just is. I don't exactly have a whole lot of experiences with other people's genitalia outside of working as a caregiver, and that was solely professional and for hygienic purposes. Not to mention my own experience as an asexual, it's not something I really seek out (though I am sex-positive, clearly, otherwise how the hell do you think I ended up pregnant?) and that means the only other knowledge I had came from menstrual hygiene.

(Added Note: I went back into the doc for my 6 week postpartum checkup and my doc couldn't feel the septum. We speculated that it was something which may have showed more due to the added pressure of the baby. Either way, it's not something that I may need surgery to address or whether or not it will interfere with any other children I may have. But still, fun info. raise awareness).

My original birth plan was to be hardcore and go without any pain meds. I wanted to have the full experience, feeling the pain which so many of my ancestors felt. It's literally my birthright and I have embraced the suck. I know it's gonna hurt like hell but I want to feel it anyway while screaming my head off and going Super Saiyan 3 (go look up the transformation. I wanted to quote that scene as I pushed like a total badass and weeb). However, with having spent the last 6 hours in immense pain every handful of minutes, I was starting to reconsider. Now, I know that all of you would tell me that it's fine and there's nothing wrong about taking pain meds and no one would think less of me for doing it, but I didn't want to go back on my word with myself. It's my pride! My Saiyan Pride!! I wanted to do this for ME!!! But OOF let me tell you, I was really reconsidering it considering HOW MUCH and HOW LONG I was in pain. My husband was also becoming increasingly distraught seeing just how much pain I was in and not being able to do anything about it. He stayed by my side the whole time, which was more than enough for me though. (Seriously sweetie, you're wonderful).

Finally, 10am rolled around (and then some), and the doctor came to see me. She had been briefed on my condition and came in to tell me that she highly suggested a C-section. And by highly suggested I mean she really wasn't going to let me not. Now, I had come to terms with the concept of things not going as planned long before any of this. I had my plans, but if for whatever reason those were not able to come to fruition, I'd resign myself to being cut open, I just didn't want to be awake for it. I'm squeamish enough as it is for like, getting IV's or blood drawn (medical needles and tattoo needles are different, fight me), and the thought of surgery terrifies me. The idea of my insides being exposed and worked on weirds me out and I just wouldn't want to be awake and have to deal with my own anxiety. However, when I told my doctor about that previously, she told me that unfortunately I would HAVE to be awake for a C-section and of course, I whined but accepted that fact.

And so here we were. That back up plan was now my reality. The doctor said that she had to do another procedure first, and then I would be up next. In that time, anesthesia would come and talk to me, but I needed to stop drinking that cream soda asap. Luckily I hadn't eaten since the night before so all I had to do was stop drinking and wait 2 hours and then I would be ready for surgery. I would go in around 2:30, and by the end of it, I would have a baby in my arms.

My husband and I waited around for a while, sitting in anticipation and speculation. It was really happening, wasn't it. The thing we had talked about for months. The moment that every single person in my family (and now his, now being reconnected) had been waiting for since the beginning of the month. We talked with each other, checking in with how we were feeling and keeping each other calm as we faced this together. I had been terrified that because of covid, he wouldn't be able to be there with me, and the biggest relief I had was that he was still able to be by my side (and there was no where he'd rather be). My original plan involved my parents being there, as well as my godmother and anyone else who wanted to see (assuming the nurses were okay with it), but instead it was just us, and there was almost something comforting in the solitude. We have spent 9 years being each other's main support, we knew how to talk to each other, we knew how to calm another. This, at least, was the only part of the original plan we didn't have to change.

Since I still had to wait several hours, I went ahead and accepted the nurse's offer to take some pain meds, since I already had to get my IV started (still had to take that antibiotic), and it helped a little. made me feel really woozy and that made it hard to type and talk to people who were asking me 9000 questions. I send out my cryptic message like I wanted, letting everyone know ITS TIME in the most extra way I possibly could, and then waited some more. "Not much longer now," my husband kept telling me as the time passed. The nurses came in and went ahead and told him to take our belongings into a different room which we would be in after the procedure. Room 2011. We both laughed cause that was the year we got together. Funny coincidence.

The anesthesiologist came in right around 2:30, as promised and gave me a quick rundown of how they were going to numb me down from the ribs down (give or take) by sticking a needle in my spine, which... oh boy... more needles. I just tried not to think about it. I don't remember exactly what the whole process was, but once again, this isn't a research paper. Look it up yourself if you want to know. They gave my husband a sanitary suit to wear in the OR, and he changed into that while I went to the bathroom again (and proceeded to bleed everywhere after being checked twice. BTW it's about to get a little more gross). Now with my gown damp with blood, We walked back to the OR room. I gave my husband my phone and one more kiss before going in to start the procedure. (He had to wait outside while they gave me the anesthesia).

The only think I could think of as I entered the room and sat on the table was of The Killer's song "Spaceman."

It started with a low light
Next thing I knew, they ripped me from my bed
And then they took my blood type
It left a strange impression in my head
You know that I was hoping
That I could leave this star-crossed world behind
But when they cut me open
I guess that changed my mind

Singing that song in my head was the only thing keeping me calm as they stuck the needle in my back. Even with the topical numbing, it still hurt when the fluid went up the spinal cord (or whatever it was). I was hunched over as another nurse held me up, trying to breathe and focus, or really not focus on the needle. Gotta stay in the moment. It'll be alright. Then they laid me down on the table and brought my arms up to the side. They placed the protective shield guard thing on my belly, exposing the area where they were going to cut and pulling up the blue fabric to cover the view so neither me nor my husband could see the actual insides (which is a good thing). I kept wiggling my toes to test to see how much or how long it would take for me to stop feeling my lower half. They finally let my husband back in right as my nerves were starting to break, but having him back next to me and holding my hand was enough to calm me back down while they began to cut.

It didn't feel like much of anything. Everything was so numb that I could really only feel small sensations as the docs were moving around. It was wild, now that I think about it. I kept making small talk with my husband as they worked their magic. I just had to remember to slowly breathe and keep calm, it was all going to be okay. At one point, the doc turned to us and said "Okay, this is it." It was time for the baby to arrive. I felt some really strong tugging and pulling, my body being pushed side to side, and then, a cry.

My baby's cry.

It was the most unreal sound, finally getting to hear their voice. The doc's turned to my husband and said "Okay Dad, you can look." He stood up and took saw them for the first time, and then turned to me and said "She's beautiful."

I began to cry a little. I had a girl! I was so happy! 

The docs took the baby over to get cleaned up and my husband went with them. I could only watch from the table as they started to clean me up. I could hear my husband talk to my new baby girl, while she gave everyone else quite an earful. While they were over doing that, I felt a strange feeling in my chest and told then anesthesiologist, then started to puke a little. He told me that's a normal side effect of the medicine while holding a baggie to my face. 

After they got the baby all cleaned up, they brought her over to me to hold for just a little. It was difficult with the big blue tent still obscuring my lower half, but wow was she so soft and warm. The first glimpse I had of her she was still blue-ish, but now she was starting to get pinker. She was just so little, so small, so wonderful. I know it's cliche for parents to talk about how magical their first time holding their kid is, but it really was. For a brief moment, just me, my husband, and our baby all huddled together, the chaos of the room being drowned out, it was really something.

However it was brief, as they took daddy and baby off to our room while they had to sew my belly back together. It didn't take more than 20 minutes, so I said "see you soon" and watched them leave. Quietly, back with my thoughts, I waited. More than anything I was just eager to get back to the room. It was a quick procedure and once they were done, they slid me off the table and on to my bed, then rolled me back to the room to rejoin my family.

The first image I have from that point is my husband in one of his favorite dark blue sweaters, gently swaying back and forth with our baby all wrapped up in his arms. There are few times I've seen him so happy, so relieved. He smiled at me as I came in and showed me our daughter, all pink and smooshyfaced. The nurse was in there with us still too and it was time to weigh her. 

7 pounds 4.6 oz. 20 inches long.

Just a teeny little thing. 

Now, I don't remember if in my last blog post I had gone into the details of what we were planning for names, but if I did, just go read that one. Anyway, It was time to give her a name...

Valerie Fawkes Smith.

(Note, that almost 3 months later I'm still not used to calling her by her name, I usually call her Baby or Grump.)

Finally, it was my turn to hold her (and attempt to breastfeed her). I was so worried with how small and soft she was, I didn't want to hurt her. But with a little luck and her very first instinct, She began to suckle. Good job Kid. It was weird at first, and then began to hurt since my body wasn't used to it. The nipples got super sore and my back ached from having to hold her up. Those first few days were a nightmare trying to get in the rhythm of things, but we managed.

We got ourselves settled in, took our first pictures, talked to our families, and just were in awe over Valerie's little face. She had her eyes open quite a bit, they were this astounding slate blue. It was the most wonderful color, and though she couldn't see color or focus on us at all, we kept getting lost in her eyes, hoping that she'd come to recognize us. People always talked about the smell that new babies have, and no it's not a poopy smell, but its this intoxicating sweetness to them. It was just the most wonderful thing, and maybe it's pheromones or whatever but it was so strong. I know some baby shampoos try to emulate it and they get soooo close, but there's nothing better than the real stuff.

A few hours passed, we all kept cuddling and eventually it was time to eat. They brought us in a nice turkey dinner which I was so excited for. My husband, being a vegetarian, was less excited. We traded potatoes for meat so he at least had something substantial. She also was going through diapers quite often already. There was a point, maybe 3 hours or so after my anesthesia wore off and I could move my legs again, that I had scooted to the edge of my bed because I wanted to help my husband change her (as well as learn how to swaddle her). I carefully moved, making sure to keep all my wires and IV lines, and catheter where they needed to be in proximity to me (that is my job normally after all, so none of that was alien to me). I stood up, making sure to have the bed right behind me still just in case I was unsteady on my feet, and leaned over at my baby. We got he changed but then the nurse came in the room and asked;

"Are you standing?!"

My only response was "Am I in trouble?"

The answer was yes.

It wasn't that bad though, they just wanted to make sure that I wasn't going to agitate my incision or pull anything out or fall... though they got the feeling that if I was already standing that I was healing phenomenally well. No harm though. I suppose I could have just waited to learn how to swaddle the baby since I was gonna do it later anyway. I'm just impatient.

Our first night together was rather rough. Newborns wake up a lot and need food and a change about every 2 to 3 hours. I was still confined to my bed so it was Daddy who got to do all the hard stuff. We set Baby up next to my bed and made sure I could rest my hand in the bassinet to help comfort her (and keep the pacifier in). She cried and wiggled and eventually during the night I padded my bed with all the pillows in the known universe so there was no chance of her falling and just held her against me. She stayed cradled in my arms until morning, which worked out very well since she was infinitely less fussy. Turns out I spoiled her from the get go cause she refuses to sleep without a warm body next to her most nights (it's only sometimes a problem).

My memory gets a little fuzzy for our second day at the hospital. I remember she and I both had a lot of time with nurses and doctors and learning to feed better. Breastfeeding was starting to hurt since I wasn't used to it. I was SO SORE and she wasn't always latching good. I tensed my body every time she tried and eventually had a huge ache in my back from tensing so much. (It got better after the first week). I got cleared by the nurse and was able to stand and go to the bathroom on my own (though that was kinda difficult). I got my IV taken out, I was able to get a shower (oh it was nice. The tub in the hospital room was so deep I was so mad that I wasn't allowed baths for a good while cause of the incision).

Meanwhile, Baby got her first bath (sponge bath, really), and was... tolerant of it. (These days we just take baths with mommy and daddy and we love it). We dressed her up in a cute outfit of a dark green onsie with dinosaurs saying "hello there" (they were from the first batch of clothes we bought after finding out I was pregnant). Then we we spent the rest of the day on the phone (or video call, really) with everyone we possibly could. My Parents, my mother in law, all of the grandparents, friends and other extended family, you name it. I also saw two of my coworkers who came to see me during their shift and that was fun.  

That night was much more rough. Baby was super fussy and I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open even as she screamed. Daddy was worried too and couldn't sleep either. Eventually, he found that Baby likes being rocked to sleep on his chest (something she still likes). It was stressful, and when we found out she was loosing a bit too much weight after birth we got worries (my milk wasn't really coming in yet so there's that). The nurses had some donor milk for that exact scenario so she got a teeny little bottle and was at least eating. We had to set up an appt with a pediatrician for the following day, so that was fun (but they told us what to do and everything turned out fine).

We had an outfit planned for her first time home, A cute grey onsie with a rainbow on it. Regardless of who our baby turned out to be, they were definitely going into that outfit. If pregnancy was a rainstorm, than they were the rainbow. Both Mommy and Baby were clear to go home Tuesday afternoon. We cleared out of our hospital room and piled into the car. She wasn't exactly thrilled to be strapped in a car seat, but rules is rules kid. The ride home was more tough on me though, just having surgery and all, but it was short, and we arrived home to be greeted by our loving friends/roommates, our confused and curious felines, and later, my parents. They had been so exited to meet their first (human) granbaby. They also cooked some amazing chicken fried steak for me, mashed potatoes and green beans too. It was the greatest thing I had eaten in days (not that the hospital food was bad).

The cats just kinda regarded the new baby, more interested in the stuff she came home in (like sleeping in the car seat, stroller, bassinet, etc...) and left baby to cuddle with gramma and grampa. She was so small and soft (and sleepy). She was still getting used to this whole "existing" thing. 

Also grampa put his sunglasses on Baby and we have funny pictures of it.

Eventually the sun went down and it was time for Mommy and Baby to go sleep (Daddy still stays up later). It was so nice to be back in our own bed (baby too cause she hated being put down, so once again crammed with all the pillows so no one falls). We settled in for a so-so restful night and began our new life together.

And since then, it's been a wonderful adventure, even though this is only the beginning.

oh yeah and we also kept the placenta and buried it in the backyard under a rose.