It's been 15 weeks and five days since Liam was born - well beyond the expiration date for posting the average birth story - so it shouldn't surprise me that I've already lost a number of details I was so determined to hang on to regarding that day. And yet, it does. The name of this medication, the reason for that test, Liam's Apgar score - oh, shit, did I even ask about Liam's Apgar score? Whether I knew it then or not, it's definitely gone now. So understand this won't be a suspensful or even entirely accurate play-by-play of his arrival. Besides, scheduled c-sections by their very nature lack the unpredictability factor required for a nail-biting read. I didn't experience false labor, my water didn't break in Target, I wasn't at risk for giving birth in the backseat of my car. That said, no matter how routine it was or how many holes there are in my story, on June 29, Liam was born, and it was one of the best days of my life. It deserves to be celebrated.
-------
Luke and I were late that morning, getting to the hospital. We woke up early enough to shower and finish packing - before five, I think, and we were due at St. Vincent's by 7:30 - but I couldn't get out the door. I kept finding things to do, all the while thinking, "This is the last time." Not that I wasn't going to rinse a dish or change a pull-up again, but you know what I mean. The last time.
We arrived on campus around 7:45. I spent most of the car ride e-mailing family and friends, including my boss and my CEO, whose own wife had given birth just three days earlier at the same hospital. When I shared that Luke and I were on our way to deliver Baby Brother, he joked, "I hope there'll be someone around to help you out!" After checking in at the front desk, I called Samantha, who was driving to Indy with my parents, to give her the latest update. Luke debated getting coffee but decided against it (silly man). I half-wondered if I'd be out of recovery in time to watch All My Children.
I remember waiting in triage with Luke, sending Tweets into Blogland. I used the bathroom twice, dreading the inevitable introduction of my catheter. The nurse inserted the hep lock for my IV and did a beautiful job. I saw my obstetrician. I tweeted some more.
I spoke to the anesthesiologist on call for my surgery, trying to figure out if he was present for Nathan's birth (he wasn't) and if there was something he could do to curb the crazy itching I would have in reaction to the morphine soon to be pumping through my veins (there was - administer less of it).
I turned off my phone, put on the fugly calf-length socks provided by the hospital, and a little after nine o'clock, walked myself into the O.R.
Luke couldn't join me until my spinal was in place. Had to keep busy somehow!
The first thing that struck me was the temperature of the room - cold, so very cold. There could have been icicles hanging from the ceiling and I wouldn't have been the least bit surprised. I was helped onto the operating table and waited while my medical team prepared for surgery. Lisa, my nurse, stayed by my side and outlined the process for administering the spinal. Arch back. Relax muscles. Keep very, VERY still.
Now, as long-time readers know, Liam was not my first c-section; all three of my kids were delivered under the knife. I should know the drill by now, yes? I was certainly on my game when Nathan was born; cracking jokes, following directions, and just plain making everyone's job easier because I was so excited to meet my baby. But this time, despite my best efforts, my body wouldn't comply. I couldn't stop shaking, my shoulders wouldn't unclench, and then, suddenly, I was crying. Bawling, actually. It was almost embarrassing, the jaggedness of my breaths and intensity of my sobs.
Everyone in the room was so kind and did their best to help me calm down. "It's so cold," I kept telling Lisa, and, "I'm sorry."
Eventually, with some deep breathing, I was able to control myself long enough for the anesthesiologist to inject the medicine into my spine, and soon I was laying down on the table, arms extended Jesus-style, and feeling a warm sensation run through me as the anesthesia began to take effect. After performing the standard pin-prick to make sure I was completely numb, the anesthesiologist went on to explain that he gave me a little less Dura*morph (aka morphine) to combat the itching and paired it with another drug (Tora*dol, maybe?). He told me to let him know if I started feeling any pain or discomfort any where, any time.
I was fitted with a nasal oxygen mask as a precaution, and then Luke was at my side. By that time I was so anxious all I could do was cry again. "She's a little emotional," Lisa told him as he wiped my tears away. He was nervous, too.
We didn't talk much. Luke rubbed my head while I focused on my breathing. I was so tired.
Luckily, it wasn't long before those pulling and tugging sensations I was so familiar with from Kara and Nathan were happening, and at 9:48 a.m., the room exploded with the most beautiful sound of my life: my newborn baby's cry.
"He's okay, right? He's okay?" I asked, nearly choking on my tears.
He was okay. All nine pounds, eight ounces, and 22 inches of him. The medical staff was impressed.
Luke went over to the baby while they cleaned him up and the doctor continued on with her business. The anesthesiologist was checking on me constantly, which I was glad about, because this c-section was so different from my other two. More discomfort than I was used to, overall, in addition to taking longer. There was also a sharp pain in my right shoulder that the doctor said was normal. It was hard to take deep breaths sometimes.
My boy was brought to me once for a quick snuggle and kiss while my OB/GYN closed me up. "What's his name?" Lisa asked. I turned my head towards Luke. We'd been waffling over two choices for the last few weeks. The only thing we'd decided on were Baby Brother's initials - LBD, just like his daddy. This was the first time we didn't have a name immediately at the ready. "We're not sure yet," he said.
Before I left the O.R., my legs were wrapped in sequential compression devices (SCDs) to help avoid clotting after surgery, since it would be about a day before I attempted walking again. Once they were finished, the baby was nestled into the crook of my arm, and we were wheeled off to recovery.
Surprise! The happiest moments are not always the most photogenic.
Once in recovery, it was just Luke, me, the baby, and my nurse - my family was still en route to Indy, and Molly, the only other person I would have wanted in the room - was at home watching my other two kids (along with hers. God bless you, friend). It felt so good to have all that weight removed from my uterus, and so wonderful to hold him, that I didn't have a care in the world. My nurse was concerned, though, because my temperature had dropped, so I was covered with an air blanket for more than an hour to bring it back up.
It also took about that long to settle on a name. Our contenders were Linus Brendan and Liam Benjamin. We thought about Linus Benjamin, but people. We are only one year out from LOST. The world is not yet ready.
We loved the uniqueness of Linus but worried my Chicago Southsider parents would label it yuppy or too "out there." Plus, I have a weird thing about having at least one "a" in my kids' first names. We loved the simplicity of Liam, and it had actually been on our short list for Nathan, but.... But....
"Honestly, I could go either way," Luke said, each time I asked his opinion. "He can be whatever you want."
Eventually, we ran out of butts.
"He looks like a Liam," I finally decided. "Liam feels good."
Welcome to the world, baby Liam.
It was around one o'clock that Luke, Liam, and I were brought to our room (and yes, I did catch a little AMC). Samantha, my parents, Molly, and all the kids showed up around three-thirty.
Kara and Nathan showed a lot of interest in Liam when they first arrived, but after the first ten minutes or so they were distracted by all the other people in the room. They would make their way over to me a lot, though, when Liam wasn't with me. I don't think the visit lasted longer than an hour, which was fine by me because I was still so tired, and crying on and off, too.
There is a special place in Heaven for this woman, who stayed with my children and hers starting Tuesday night and lasting until Friday afternoon.
Samantha's made it to the hospital on the day of every one of my children's births, despite her hectic life and the long drive. She and Molly, who is equally busy, are the only people who can say that. Amazing.
This was the first time my parents were there. When I found out we were pregnant again, it was one of the first requests I made of them, to come see us in Indy and meet the baby and not wait until we made the trip to Chicago. I'm so happy they did. Luke's parents would have been there as well, like they were for Kara and Nathan, except they were in Wales on a trip that had been planned long before we learned about Liam. Thank goodness for Facebook.
Then, soon, it was just us again.
Our pospartum time in the hospital was the best of all three experiences. I was using the bathroom and walking the day after surgery, Liam nursed well, and I was getting more sleep than I expected. We had lots of visitors, but usually they didn't stay that long, which fed my conflicting needs for company and solitude nicely. With the introduction of the SCDs, I felt like I had more "stuff" constraining me this time around, but my IV hep lock was removed more quickly this time than with Kara or Nathan, and my pain med cocktail was working well, though I did have a lot of gastrointestinal issues. Weeks later I was still having pain in my abdomen, a lingering byproduct of all that gas.
As much as I enjoyed the "free" hospital food and chance to rest up, though, I missed my babies and was eager to get on with the regular course of life. I made sure my OB, nurses, and pediatrician knew of my goal to be discharged after two days instead of three and worked hard to meet all of the standard milestones. Luckily, Liam was healthy and I was progressing well, though my ped was (appropriately) concerned that I might be overdoing it. He knew I was experiencing more pain with this c-section. But I wanted to be home. So on Friday, July 1, we dressed Liam in his going-home onesie, and home we went.
In the three and a half months that Liam's been with us, to say that Luke and I have been overwhelmed at times is an understatement. There just aren't enough hands to get everything done that needs to be done. My bathrooms have never gone this long between cleans; getting a decent night's sleep has never felt more primal. And with a longer work commute and increased responsibilities (and costs!) of raising toddlers who are fast growing into full-fledged children, sometimes all I can do at the end of a day is stick my hand in the cookie jar and collapse in front of the TV. Not exactly how I want to spend my time long-term.
But still.
We couldn't be happier.
Whether a birth is natural, medicated, or a scheduled c-section it deserves to be celebrated, along with all of the participants (including the helping hands of friends and family) and you did a fabulous job!
The other thing you do a fabulous job with: making good looking babies!
Posted by: Blanche | October 17, 2011 at 02:03 PM
Omg, Frema, it's all I can do to collapse on the couch by 7pm and shovel ice cream onto my face - and I have ONE child and am not going to work. You are amazing. Loved reading all about Liam's birth!
Posted by: Operation Pink Herring | October 17, 2011 at 02:14 PM
What a wonderful day, indeed!
Posted by: Jen L. | October 17, 2011 at 03:43 PM
Sweet Liam. Beautiful story. <3
Posted by: Diane Frusolone | October 17, 2011 at 07:14 PM
You are my hero! I love reading your stories of your wonderful little family. We only have one a little older than Kara. I love your birth story!
Posted by: Kelly | October 17, 2011 at 10:41 PM
This was awesomely written. I have always felt so blessed to share regular old days and big special baby days with you. You guys are a beautiful growing family, and amazing.
Posted by: Molly | October 18, 2011 at 01:21 AM
This story really brought on the waterworks for me! Our story has been very close, our daughters are less than 3 weeks apart (that's when I discovered your awesomeness) and our second sons are close as well. We just found out we are expecting our third, and you got me in a weak moment :) Congratulations again, and I hope we can come through to the other (third) side as well as you have! Thanks!
Posted by: Sarah Williams | October 18, 2011 at 01:15 PM
What a great story - it's so funny to see your pictures because I had my sweet baby via a scheduled CSection at St. Vincent's just last week. The pictures are so familiar. Congratulations, he is beautiful!
Posted by: Joanne | October 18, 2011 at 01:26 PM
You guys will do great. He is so beautiful!
PS. I want a Molly!
Posted by: Beth | October 19, 2011 at 03:25 PM
Great start for the family of FIVE. He is much bigger boy now. Such joy!
Posted by: daddy d | October 19, 2011 at 08:12 PM
I love this story. Because I can relate to it? Because I feel like you savoured every minute? Because it's written with such confidence? Thank you for sharing!
Posted by: eva | October 21, 2011 at 01:39 AM
I am sorry that we out of the country for Liam's birth, but we cherish every single moment that we get to spend with him and his big brother and sister now that we are stateside.
Posted by: Grandma Molly | November 04, 2011 at 08:32 PM