Finnigan's birth story

Marriage is awesome. There was never really any adjustment Colin and I had to make to live together. At least on my end, it just seemed like we had always been married. As newly weds, he was so sweet and would open my door for me every time we went somewhere. He would get up early with me, even though he didn't have to be awake yet, and pour my cereal for me. He would drive me to the bus stop, before going back to bed until it was time that he actually had to get up. Just a million sweet, thoughtful things that he was constantly doing for me on an everyday basis just made me feel so blessed to be married to him.

However, being pregnant did not agree with me in the same way. I was immediately sick. And, not just in the morning. All day, all night. Smells of even my favorite foods made me very ill. And not just for the first trimester, but long into my second trimester until I found that over the counter Unisom worked for me much better than prescription antiemeitcs. I also got big, really, really fast, until I was sure that I would explode. I remember at six months pregnant having people exclaim that I must be ready to give birth any day, and wanting to explode in tears. Every month, my stomach ripped open further and further until I was one huge stretch mark. My back hurt, my hips hurt, my pelvis hurt. Weeks before Finnigan was born, I began to contract and dialate. The Doctor assured me that I would go early, that he doubted I would make my due date. I walked and walked, and tried everything to induce labor naturally. The bigger I got, the more I doubted I would be able to have a natural labor and feared a c-section was immient. Other nurses that I worked with that worked OB would tell me that there was no way I was going to be able to have a natural birth, just by looking at how small my frame was and how big the baby was. But I was stubborn. I feel like women and doctors choose C-sections to quickly and often, and that we should try everything to have a natural labor. However, after days of contractions, and not being able to sleep and having contractions every five minutes for an hour, I was exhausted and hauled Colin out of bed in the middle of the night to take me to the hospital. 

A month before my due date

When we got there, I was nervous, because I didn't feel like my contractions were strong enough for labor, and I wasn't sure that they would admit me. But I didn't think I could literally survive much longer without sleep, I was just so tired. For months I had so much pain and discomfort, but I just wanted to get this baby out so I could nap for an hour or two. The doctor took pity on me, I was admitted. I walked around, got in the tub, and could feel contractions coming on a little more intense and often. I started to become energized again, because I felt like there was an end in sight. My baby would be born today! And when one of the doctors at the practice I see came by in the morning she broke my bag of waters, and very, very black meconium seeped out. I was placed on bed-rest. I immediately knew the complications of meconium being a nurse, and was nervous that the baby was in distress. I was started on pitocin, and put on bedrest. The combination of the pitocin and the bedrest made my contractions infinitely more painful, so I agreed to the epidural, mostly because of the promise that I would be able to sleep for a bit after I received it.

However, I had a reaction either to the pit or the epidural, I don't know. I became hypotensive, and my oxygen saturation dropped, as did the baby's heart rate. When ever I would move at all from my left side, the baby would have decels (heart rate would drop), and so I just laid, wide awake on my left side for hours and hours deathly nervous I was going to birth a still born. It could have just been a monitor issue, but as a nurse, I knew that the kind of decels Finn was having on the monitor was most likely secondary to cord compression, so I did not move for fear it would compromise perfusion and cause permanent injury to Finn, and so my epidural stopped working on one side of my body. By then my pitocin was maxed out and I was having intense pain with contractions, and contractions were less than a minute apart, but I was making no process. So when the doctor said the words C-section, I balled and balled because I felt like I failed, by I was just so stinking tired, that I agreed. 

Finnigan was born via C-section just after 5 pm on March 1st 2012. He was beautiful, and perfect, although his face was pretty beat up, and he did have a hemorrhaged eye from me trying to birth him. 

I honestly don't remember most of the first evening and night of Finn's life. I know by pictures my mom took that the nurses put him on my chest and smashed him to my breast until he latched on, but I was passed out! I remember only calling out to Colin immediately after they pulled the baby out to ask him how Finn's lung sounds were, if he was in any distress, but Colin never responded. I was panicking a little bit, but I think I was just so tired that I wasn't talking loud enough for Colin to hear me. Then I remember Colin finally brought him over and I could barely open my eyes, but I squinted at him a little bit and said "he looks asian." I have never been so exhausted, and I am used to sleep deprivation! I am a night nurse, who went to nursing school and had clinicals, during the day and I hardly slept for years! I know by pictures that my family came by immediately after, as did Colin's, but I don't remember them being there. My friends came to see me around midnight that night, and I hardly remember them being there, although I do remember Colin being annoyed they were coming since I was so tired. I slept great all night, regardless of the pain I was in post op. Each night I slept less well though, until the last night there, I couldn't sleep at all. The bed was so uncomfortable, I couldn't wait to get home and into my own bed.

When I finally did get home, I was excited to crawl in my own bed and sleep while the baby was sleeping, but when he started to cry I attempted to get up but I couldn't. It's funny now, but it was really scary at the time. I had absolutely no control over my stomach muscles. At the hospital I had the railings, and I could sit the head of the bed up in order to maneuver out of bed. But I had nothing to leverage myself. I tried to roll to no avail. I tried to use my elbows and swing my legs over the bed to crawl myself out of bed, but nothing worked. I started to sob because, how was I going to care for a baby if I couldn't get out of bed? Luckily Colin took a couple of extra days off, and was there to help me get out of bed. For the next week or two I just slept on the couch where I had the arms and the back of the couch to pull on when I was getting up to care for the baby. 

Colin's grandmother helped to baby sit Finn a lot in those first days so I could nap and shower, which was very nice. People brought us food, and Finn got lots and lots of gifts, on top of the two baby showers we had already had. He was a lucky and loved baby.  

I am so happy to have baby Finnigan in my life. He and Colin are collectively the best thing that has ever happened to me. He is just so cute, and funny, and fun. I love waking up to him, and I love to watch him dance, and run around and babble-sing. He is my greatest source of pride, and I could not imagine our life without him. I want him to happy, and healthy every day of his life.

Being pregnant with an 8 pound 12 oz, 22 inches long baby when you are Four foot eleven was no joke. But every single pain and stretch mark were worth it, a million times over, and I cannot wait to go through all of it again when we are blessed with another sweet little baby. This time I think the discomfort will be easier to deal with, now that I can look my perfect son in the face as motivation to what you get on that other side of suffering. Perfection, and Joy. Complete and utter.