The morning Ava was born was and still is a complete blur to me. Everything happened so quickly leaving me unable to process or react to the situation unfolding before my eyes. It was the first day of my 35th week of my “textbook pregnancy” with the only abnormalities being a very small amount of spotting in my 32nd week and frequent Braxton-Hicks contractions that began sometime during the end of my second trimester.
Three days earlier I had a routine ultrasound which determined that Ava was breech with her head under my ribs and her bottom where her head should be. The next day, my OB informed me that I should start considering a Caesarian birth but there was still time for Ava to flip and position herself correctly for the delivery.
On Monday July 24, 2006, I woke up just before 5 am for my usual early morning call from Mother Nature. I was still half asleep as I walked to the bathroom when I suddenly felt my water break. Through my sleepy haze I ignored it at first thinking I was dreaming and continued to the bathroom. It was five minutes later that I felt my first contraction. I didn’t think it was true labor until I felt the second contraction only 3 minutes later and I lost more amniotic fluid.
I didn’t think anything was truly wrong at first. Of course, I was in labor and I wasn’t thinking strait. But suddenly a sharp sting of fear set in because I knew it wasn’t time yet. At least, it wasn’t supposed to be. I rushed to the calendar in the kitchen to figure out how many weeks I was supposed to have left and how far along I was. I had never been more scared of anything in my entire life as I was when I realized I was supposed to have a lot more time… five weeks of more time to grow my daughter.
The next hour was a blur as I woke up my fianceé, Melvin, called my doctor and rushed to the hospital. My contractions had dramatically worsened by the time I had arrived at the hospital only an hour after my water broke. It was 6:15 am when I was admitted. I had lost a lot of amniotic fluid and was already 8 centimeters dilated. My labor was progressing so quickly and suddenly none of the classes I took to prepare myself for that morning even mattered anymore. I knew this was not going to be a text-book birth.
As soon as the nurse informed me that I was already 8 centimeters, she quickly strapped a fetal heart rate monitor to my stomach to continually monitor Ava’s heart rate. Seconds later, the room was flooded with over 15 nurses and doctors asking questions, inserting an IV and hooking me up to other medical equipment, informing me that I was about to have an emergency Cesarean birth, and trying to prepare me for what was all about to happen within the next hour. All I kept thinking and wanting to ask was “Why? Why is this happening? It’s not time.” I didn’t dare ask however as I was trying to stay calm because I knew if I was calm, Ava would be calm. I was both terrified and anxious for her.
Melvin was visibly nervous as he stood back and tried not to get in the way of the circus that was happening around us. Once I was hooked up to everything I was stuck in bed contracting, awaiting the anesthesiologist and surgeon to come perform a miracle for me. There wasn’t much that Melvin could do for me but hold my hand, and I believe that is the only thing that kept me thinking positive about the entire situation.
It is now about 6:20 am and only about 25 minutes have passed. I was being wheeled into the OR about to be administered a Spinal Epidural, the very drug I swore I wouldn’t ask for. Not only was I squeamish about having a needle inserted between my vertebrae, I personally felt I was cheating. My mother had five natural births; I swore I could handle at least one. But I didn’t have a choice as this birth was not going to be natural.
Mel was asked to leave the room while the anesthesiologist prepped me. It took only about 15 minutes but one of the most painful 15 minutes of my labor. The needle hurt, my contractions were at their worst was, Mel was not with me, I was about to have major surgery and I didn’t know if my little baby girl was going to be okay.
Before I knew it, I was laying down on the table in the middle of surgery with Melvin right at my side holding my hand and trying to keep me calm. The doctor told me that I was about to feel a lot of pressure on my chest and then they were going to pull the baby out. I took a deep breath and focused on Melvin’s face. A few moments later I heard a baby crying.
Melvin looked at me with tears slipping out of his eyes and said, “I hear a baby.” I said, “Yes, that’s our baby.” One of the nurses then told me to look up and she held little Ava over the curtain for me to see for only a quick moment before she was cleaned up and Melvin cut her umbilical cord.
The doctors were still stitching me up and I had my arms strapped down to table when they brought her around to me again. This time she was wrapped up in a blanket and the Nurse was explaining to me that she scored a 9 on both of her APGAR test but they wanted to bring her to the NICU as a precaution since she was premature. It was a standard procedure.
I was relieved that she was apparently okay but upset because I didn’t get to hold her. I didn’t have that chance to bond with her right when she was born. I was very upset because I knew she just needed her Mommy to let her know that she would be okay and that none of this was her fault. But I never got that chance as she was whisked away almost immediately after her birth.
I knew it was best for her but I still felt cheated. I was heavily sedated when I first met my little girl and I couldn’t even touch her. I never got to push; I never even had time alone with Melvin before her birth to take in the experience of labor. I feel as though I just laid there and everyone else did the work for me. This was my first child and I never got the childbirth experience I was looking forward to for almost 8 months. I felt like less of a mother since I forced to sit back and let everyone else to the work.
In recovery I was finally able to have some visitors. I was so thankful that my parents and my sister were there. I needed to see some familiar faces and Mel and I needed some support and reassurance after the traumatic experience that had just happened. My father is very good at easing tension and making the best of a bad situation and seeing him helped to lift a lot of the tension that came as we awaited word on Ava.
Three days earlier I had a routine ultrasound which determined that Ava was breech with her head under my ribs and her bottom where her head should be. The next day, my OB informed me that I should start considering a Caesarian birth but there was still time for Ava to flip and position herself correctly for the delivery.
On Monday July 24, 2006, I woke up just before 5 am for my usual early morning call from Mother Nature. I was still half asleep as I walked to the bathroom when I suddenly felt my water break. Through my sleepy haze I ignored it at first thinking I was dreaming and continued to the bathroom. It was five minutes later that I felt my first contraction. I didn’t think it was true labor until I felt the second contraction only 3 minutes later and I lost more amniotic fluid.
I didn’t think anything was truly wrong at first. Of course, I was in labor and I wasn’t thinking strait. But suddenly a sharp sting of fear set in because I knew it wasn’t time yet. At least, it wasn’t supposed to be. I rushed to the calendar in the kitchen to figure out how many weeks I was supposed to have left and how far along I was. I had never been more scared of anything in my entire life as I was when I realized I was supposed to have a lot more time… five weeks of more time to grow my daughter.
The next hour was a blur as I woke up my fianceé, Melvin, called my doctor and rushed to the hospital. My contractions had dramatically worsened by the time I had arrived at the hospital only an hour after my water broke. It was 6:15 am when I was admitted. I had lost a lot of amniotic fluid and was already 8 centimeters dilated. My labor was progressing so quickly and suddenly none of the classes I took to prepare myself for that morning even mattered anymore. I knew this was not going to be a text-book birth.
As soon as the nurse informed me that I was already 8 centimeters, she quickly strapped a fetal heart rate monitor to my stomach to continually monitor Ava’s heart rate. Seconds later, the room was flooded with over 15 nurses and doctors asking questions, inserting an IV and hooking me up to other medical equipment, informing me that I was about to have an emergency Cesarean birth, and trying to prepare me for what was all about to happen within the next hour. All I kept thinking and wanting to ask was “Why? Why is this happening? It’s not time.” I didn’t dare ask however as I was trying to stay calm because I knew if I was calm, Ava would be calm. I was both terrified and anxious for her.
Melvin was visibly nervous as he stood back and tried not to get in the way of the circus that was happening around us. Once I was hooked up to everything I was stuck in bed contracting, awaiting the anesthesiologist and surgeon to come perform a miracle for me. There wasn’t much that Melvin could do for me but hold my hand, and I believe that is the only thing that kept me thinking positive about the entire situation.
It is now about 6:20 am and only about 25 minutes have passed. I was being wheeled into the OR about to be administered a Spinal Epidural, the very drug I swore I wouldn’t ask for. Not only was I squeamish about having a needle inserted between my vertebrae, I personally felt I was cheating. My mother had five natural births; I swore I could handle at least one. But I didn’t have a choice as this birth was not going to be natural.
Mel was asked to leave the room while the anesthesiologist prepped me. It took only about 15 minutes but one of the most painful 15 minutes of my labor. The needle hurt, my contractions were at their worst was, Mel was not with me, I was about to have major surgery and I didn’t know if my little baby girl was going to be okay.
Before I knew it, I was laying down on the table in the middle of surgery with Melvin right at my side holding my hand and trying to keep me calm. The doctor told me that I was about to feel a lot of pressure on my chest and then they were going to pull the baby out. I took a deep breath and focused on Melvin’s face. A few moments later I heard a baby crying.
Melvin looked at me with tears slipping out of his eyes and said, “I hear a baby.” I said, “Yes, that’s our baby.” One of the nurses then told me to look up and she held little Ava over the curtain for me to see for only a quick moment before she was cleaned up and Melvin cut her umbilical cord.
The doctors were still stitching me up and I had my arms strapped down to table when they brought her around to me again. This time she was wrapped up in a blanket and the Nurse was explaining to me that she scored a 9 on both of her APGAR test but they wanted to bring her to the NICU as a precaution since she was premature. It was a standard procedure.
I was relieved that she was apparently okay but upset because I didn’t get to hold her. I didn’t have that chance to bond with her right when she was born. I was very upset because I knew she just needed her Mommy to let her know that she would be okay and that none of this was her fault. But I never got that chance as she was whisked away almost immediately after her birth.
I knew it was best for her but I still felt cheated. I was heavily sedated when I first met my little girl and I couldn’t even touch her. I never got to push; I never even had time alone with Melvin before her birth to take in the experience of labor. I feel as though I just laid there and everyone else did the work for me. This was my first child and I never got the childbirth experience I was looking forward to for almost 8 months. I felt like less of a mother since I forced to sit back and let everyone else to the work.
In recovery I was finally able to have some visitors. I was so thankful that my parents and my sister were there. I needed to see some familiar faces and Mel and I needed some support and reassurance after the traumatic experience that had just happened. My father is very good at easing tension and making the best of a bad situation and seeing him helped to lift a lot of the tension that came as we awaited word on Ava.
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