happy new year, friends. it's been awhile since we last spoke and much has happened. most notably i grew and birthed a human who is now 11 weeks old. his name is connor joseph bica (to be known henceforth on this blog as yogi) and he's pretty much the cutest baby in the world. but this post isn't really about him. he will be the star of many (or few based on my current track record) posts to come; but this is my story, a (mostly) unfiltered birth story, about how he entered the world.
disclaimer: this post includes details about my pregnancy, labor and delivery of yogi. if that sounds unpleasant or could potentially trigger any emotions, please be mindful as to whether or not you continue reading. additionally, i am not comparing my experiences to anyone else or passing judgement on choices that are contrary to mine. this is my story.
on being pregnant
i was fortunate to have a very smooth pregnancy. i didn't experience any morning sickness, heartburn, food cravings or aversions, extreme exhaustion or severe swelling. for the most part i also didn't have any extreme mood swings that are stereotypical. several folks commented that if it wasn't for my growing belly they would never know i was pregnant. i have neutral feelings about being pregnant; i didn't love it, but it also wasn't miserable. some things were harder than others: the food and beverage restrictions (especially wine and sushi, those were tough), the need for a new wardrobe (i don't have a lot of body love, so accepting my growing figure was challenging for me. though i do live in my maternity leggings these days), fear based thoughts on becoming a mother, the outpouring of unsolicited "advice" on pregnancy, labor and motherhood (specifically when it was from complete strangers or random men at work. just say congratulations and move on) and having to pee. all. the. time.
i was able to travel both for work and for enjoyment right up to the start of my last trimester. yogi has technically already taken 11 trips and basically should be a delta silver member by now. i drank coffee, though i was more mindful of the quantity, and i continued to take my medication for depression and anxiety throughout my pregnancy. prior to getting pregnant i had open conversations with my psychiatrist that should i get pregnant i would want to continue to take my medication so we worked together to ensure that what i was taking didn't have any major red flags to be concerned with. for me, it was crucial for me to take care of myself so i could best care for our growing baby.
here comes yogi
yogi's due date was november 8, and [b] and i were perfectly content for him to wait until then to make his arrival. the weekends leading up to the due date were spent doing a lot of cleaning around the house, organizing and sorting. the nursery was... a work in progress. we had a rug and the crib was assembled. everything else was either in bins from my baby shower the weekend before or just been ordered. the sunday before he arrived i spent the whole day going through every room in the house deep cleaning - our bathrooms have never and probably will never be cleaner as they were that day. that night, october 22, i woke up with what can best be described as intense menstrual cramps. not debilitating but pretty uncomfortable. rest, lots of water and tylenol were prescribed by my medical professional family members, and google.
later on in the day they were not getting any less painful and i was starting to get a little worried so i called our hospital. i counted one fewer kicks that hour than is preferred so it was recommended we come in to check on things. i asked if i should bring a bag, if there was a possibility that we would need to stay, realizing as i asked this that i did not have a bag ready. i had not unpacked from going to my grandma's funeral the week before so i took some things out of that bag and threw some clothes in. and my laptop, because obviously if i was going to just be sitting there. i might as well do some work. (retrospective eye roll)
they monitored mine and yogi's heartbeats and checking on him with an ultrasound - all good. [b] jokingly (kind of) asked if it looked like he was going to stay in there for two more weeks and the nurse said absolutely even though she had no idea (nurses, don't do that). on our way back home we both felt confident that we had two more weeks to finish getting ready and this was a good reminder to get going on things we'd put off, like packing hospital bags.
that night i slept in the guest bedroom because i was still uncomfortable and around one in the morning things got REAL. these were no longer painful cramps - this was the absolute worst pain i've ever experienced in my life. like can't stand, collapse to the ground, writhe around kind of pain. i assumed, scratch that, prayed that these were real contractions. because if they weren't - i'm tapping out. i attempted to time them with an app on my phone; they were coming constantly and lasting for various lengths. around five i thought my water broke (it hadn't, but this part is NOTHING like what they show on TV) and decided to attempt to make my way upstairs to wake up [b]. the next hour was spent trying to track my contractions, throw more stuff in a bag, [b] getting the runaround on the phone with the hospital and starksthepup trying to give me kisses as i scream in pain.
and so we were back at the hospital. just over 12 hours since we were there last. i'm pretty sure they thought these were still braxton hicks and that i was being dramatic. false. five cm and i wanted the drugs. it wasn't until the anesthesiologist arrived that i realized that i was going to have to sit still in the midst of these contractions with my back hunched over while this guy puts a ginormous needle in my back. knowing that the pain would soon be gone was apparently enough to keep me calm and still. and then the best part of the day began, just kidding - but seriously, i spent the next six hours sleeping completely pain free. it was amazing. even more amazing was my hubs [b] who was by my side the whole time, fielding texts and calls, getting me water and my chapstick, giving me words of support and encouragement, just being awesome. what less amazing is that the clock had expired on hoping yogi would flip from face up to face down and it was now go time.
it was then "time" and all i could picture were scenes from movies or tv shows where it was deep "hee hee hoo hoo" breaths, some screaming and some pushing and ta-da, a baby. not that anyone would want to watch the real thing or that they could fit it into a 30 minute episode of Friends but Hollywood has set expectations that are way off. one push in and suddenly there went from a few people in the room to a team of at least 10 and i had an oxygen mask on. thankfully i had no idea what was happening. yogi's heart rate had dropped after i pushed and we needed to wait for it to re-stabilize. after another hour or two of pushing i was exhausted and growing anxious. what was happening? why was it taking so long? am i making any progress? as tears rolled down my face i told the nurse i didn't know how much longer i could do this, i was so tired and anxious and so ready to just shut down mentally.
yogi appeared to be stuck, but they could see the head so to make one final effort they tried vacuuming him out. (side note: medical people - please rename this. all i can picture is the doctor holding the hose of a dyson up in my lady business.) after three failed attempts it was agreed that it was time for an emergency c-section. for me, i was okay with this, my birth plan was more like a birth wish list. all that mattered was keeping yogi and i safe and healthy. it didn't matter how or with what drugs, surgery or not - safe and healthy, that was all.
welcome to the world
it's crazy how quickly things moved after that. [b] was given scrubs, i was wheeled off and prepped and with [b] at my side they pulled out our baby boy at 7:45pm and quickly rushed him off to another room. it was so quiet in that moment. we were warned that he probably wouldn't cry immediately since he would have some of my medication in his system. i'm glad they had told us, because without that knowledge the silence would have been very scary. he was in distress from being stuck in the birth canal, trying to be sucked out, having his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck and not being able to cry and clear out fluid from his lungs on his own. [b] was able to go to see him and give me a thumbs up through the window that yogi was okay. at that point i had been in labor for nearly 48 hours. i was physically, emotionally and mentally numb. before taking him to the special care nursery they brought him so i could see him for the first time - i remember telling [b] i'm so glad that he's cute and smiling as i noticed that he has a dimple in his chin like my dad.
i woke up in a different room to some pictures [b] had sent me of yogi in the nursery. i had wished for skin to skin time after he was born, which did not pan out obviously, but i'm glad that [b] for to spend his first few hours in the world with him. finally around 11 that evening, after i had regained feeling in my legs and arms, i got to meet him. connor joseph bica, 6 lbs 11 oz, 20 inches long. he was the most beautiful baby. and i was unbelievably happy that he was healthy and perfect. that from all of that pain came this adorable baby. but then things got real in a new way. i was his mom. i had to take care of him, this tiny little human. i still had some tingling in my arms as the epidural wore off, not to mention that i was fresh out of surgery and trying to process everything that had gone on the past 24 hours; i was hooked up to IV's for fluid, compression booties around my calves, a catheter in, gauze and tape covering the incision on my stomach... and here is this tiny person, that was just pulled out of that incision, and he was my responsibility.
we stayed in the hospital for three more days and then they let us/made us leave. with that tiny human and no parenting manual. good news, he just turned 11 weeks old and gets increasingly cuter by the day. other news, postpartum depression is real. my go to phrase if anyone asks how i'm doing these days is "it's been an adjustment, a big adjustment." and as with my mission to break the stigma around mental illness, i will now add perinatal mood disorders to that. far too many women suffer in silence, filled with fear and shame of sharing their story and their real feelings and thoughts. no more. i will be sharing my story, my experience, in hopes to break the silence and perhaps give a voice to the voiceless because no one should have to go through this alone.
photo credit: allyson wasmund photography
