Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Everly: The Birth Story

We always said Elanora was our little miracle baby. She took 7 long years to come to our family. Years and years of waiting... and then... sicker then a dog at girls camp, passing out at the Neon Trees concert and poof... Yay, a baby.

 


 

Clearly the Browns like to make an entrance to the party and boy did our little Ever make an entrance.
Being preg-o with my little Babylove was a little more tricky then it was with the first Babyface (although she only took 1 1/2 years). I was sick, a lot. Poor Chris had to hold down the fort most of the time (Good thing he isn't just here for looks, he is also pretty efficient).  In fact this pregnancy was so different and much harder, if I hadn't had an ultrasound every Dr. visit, I would have guessed I was having a boy. 
 I started having sporadic braxton hicks weeks and weeks before I was due. I didn't have one with the first Lil' Sugar.
 
(A few extra pounds more then the first pregnancy too. Ha, a few)
 The Sunday before I was due, I was at Evening in Excellence and those braxton hicks were 4 minutes apart but not painful, so luckily the Young Women president didn't have to deliver a baby. Although she was confident that Siri would help her through it.
By 1:00pm on Monday they were real contractions and were getting intense but not regular. I sent Chris the 'be on standby' text. He came home. My parents took the sweet Big Sister and by 10:00pm we were driving to the hospital (I was in serious pain but excited because I didn't want to be induced and my Dr. will only let me go a week over my due date and I was cutting it close).
 
We got to the hospital fresh faced (fresh faced was a little more painful than I imagined) and excited. Ready to have a new baby to hold. I thought it might be fun to try and go al' natural' this time. But was pretty sure I wasn't going to make it because I didn't care either way, just wanted a healthy baby. I figure you have to be dead set to make it without the good stuff :) But hey, I'm up for anything and made it to a 5 or 6 with Nory Bug before I got the epidural. Add a few numbers and I'm there, right?
 
The nurse placed the contraction monitor and the baby's heart monitor on my crazy big belly. Then she proceeded to check me. "You're only a 2," she said." I replied with a "What the H@!%". For the record that definitely wasn't the word I was thinking, the word I was thinking was way worse. I was in quadruple the pain that I had been in when I was a 5 with Elanora. The nurse left the room and a few minutes later a different nurse came in with 2 cans of apple juice and said, "We need you to drink this," and that is when the worst and longest night of my life started.
 
"Apple juice, why?" Clearly the nurses thought we were 3 years old because the only thing they would say was, "The baby isn't very happy and we need you to get some sugar into your system to get her moving around." What in the heck does that mean? I had literally just had a berry smoothie in the parking lot of the hospital, the nurse looked very worried when I told her that. Finally they told us, which at this point we had figured it out on our own, being the geniuses that we are.
My beautiful baby's heart rate was dropping really low and when it wasn't dropping, it wasn't nearly as fast as it should be. The lines on the monitor should have been moving up and down fairly fast. Her lines, when not dropping were barely going up and down.

The Dr. gave the orders to hydrate me, to see if that would help. Hydrate is an understatement, they had so much liquid going in me that I filled up like a water balloon every ounce of me swelled. I looked pretty fluffy and puffy (lucky for me they continued the hydration process all through the next day). We were given the option to stay the night and monitor the baby or go home and then in the morning I would have to go to my Dr. office and they would monitor the baby's heart for a couple of hours. We opted to stay just so we wouldn't worry all night long about the baby...

We worried all night long about the baby. Staring at the monitor watching her heart not beating correctly and occasionally dropping. Every time I would roll in the hospital bed or would go to the bathroom...which was a lot, remember the hydration thing pouring into my veins, my contractions would become horrible. Poor Chris would hold my hand as I withered in pain, wanting to cry. When the nurse came back in, I told her that I had to be in active labor or else shoot me now. She checked me again and said nope I was still a 2. This had to be pre labor. What in the world? The pain was 100 times worse than I had been in with Nory. The pressure was crazy and the contractions hurt like...you know what!

Finally in the morning the nurse checked me again and I was a 3 or 4. It was go time. That was the conclusion of the longest night of my life. But the start of the longest, scariest day of my life. At least the day concluded with a miracle baby and not just a puffy, fluffy face and wicked hospital bed head.





 
 
 
  
 
 

 


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