Lehi and I arrived at the hospital Sunday night, April 6th.
The doctors would be starting an IV with medication to help with thinning and
an antibiotic. In the morning they would start the induction process. Thank
goodness Remember the Titans and The Blind Side were on TV for Lehi and my
entertainment. The nurse connected monitors to my belly so we could hear
Maverick’s heart beat and see my contractions on the computer next to me. And
then we played the waiting game.
Monday morning came along and pitocin was added
to the IV to start the contraction process. Dr. Evans came in to check to see how dilated
I was—which ended up being a 2. While he
was checking he casually informed me that he had broken my water. Contractions
became steady and stronger. By noon I
had progressed to a next-to-nothing 3.5. The anesthesiologist came in and
administered the epidural and the sweet numbing sensation began. Unfortunately,
along with the numbing came nausea and light headedness. My blood pressure plummeted
and I threw up. Another medication was plunged into my IV to help combat the nausea
and help increase my blood pressure. They also threw a stylish oxygen mask on
to help me breathe. When the nurses left, Lehi asked if he could "try" the oxygen mask.
Maverick was in a weird position and she was hoping lying on
my side would help to correct it. With each position change every 30 minutes or
so came the dizzy spell and vomiting. It was lovely!
I had progressed to a 5 in the early evening and my hopes of
having Maverick in my arms within the upcoming hours made me elated. Another
hour passed and the nurse came in and said the baby was difficult. The frustration
in her tone and face could not be more appearent. Another hour passed. The
nurse came in and told me Maverick was not reacting well to the pitocin. I was
still at a 5. Dr. Allred decided to take me off of Pitocin and see if my body
would be able to compensate to get Maverick out. The nurse casually mentioned
the cord may also be wrapped around something and left. They put a catheter in
and found blood in the urine—more than they would like to see. I had made no
progress. My body was not compensating for the lack of Pitocin. Maverick’s
vitals went crazy with Pitocin, but without it my body was not making any
progress. Water was broke. Blood in the urine. I started to put two and two
together and recognized a c-section might be in the future.
Dr. Evans came in a few minutes later and looked at the
monitor showing Maverick’s vitals. Pointing to the screen he asked the nurse,
“How long has this crap been going on?” He then looked at the blood in the
urine and shook his head. “We need to do a c-section, stat.” He began listing
off things that could potentially go wrong. I made an earnest effort to listen
but my mind was swimming. I caught random words like: infection, blood clots,
loss of ovaries—and then—“loss of life for you or the baby…” Suddenly
surrounded nurses removing tubes, inserting tubes, needles flying into IVs,
grabbing my arms and legs, poking, prodding—I lost it. I searched for Lehi
among the mass of bodies that swarmed by bed, made eye contact, and started
crying harder. I was not scared about the c-section itself but rather how
quickly I went from laying there waiting patiently to being engulfed in people
and being told I could lose Maverick. The lab tech took my arm to draw blood. I
turned to them to find Jordan Case (a high school friend) waiting to take my
blood. It was certainly a tender mercy of the Lord that one of my friends would
have been called to my room. His encouraging words gave me comfort. Jordan was
working on bandaging up my arm when they began rolling me out of the room. He
ran alongside of my rolling bed bandaging me up. A hair net was placed on my
head so rapidly only half my hair was put in it. I was rolled into the
operating room and moved onto the operating table. I again looked for Lehi but
could not see him, only lab coats, gloves, masks, hats. I couldn't find him. They took my arms and
strapped them down to the table so they were extended. Warm blankets were
placed on each arm. I felt more medication come through the IV. A large sheet
was pulled up so I could no longer see the lower half of my body. I heard the
nurse say “You can come over here, Dad” and I knew Lehi was in the room. Relief—of
some sort at least—having him there.
I heard Dr. Evans instruct, “Scalpel.” I didn't realize I
would be awake during the c-section. I felt Lehi grab my hand as I felt tugging
sensations and pressure on my stomach. Within a few minutes I heard the
precious cry from my baby as he drew his first breath. Dr. Evans held him over
the dividing sheet for a few seconds so Lehi and I could see him. They then
took him to be cleaned up and Lehi followed. I was being stitched back up when
Maverick was placed on my shoulder. He was ok, better than ok. He was a
healthy, beautiful baby boy. 6 pounds, 15 oz. 20 inches.
Lehi and I went to the hospital as a couple and returned
home as a family.
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