Sunday, June 8, 2014

The Big Day

It was certainly the most harrowing experience of my life. All the more terrifying considering we hope to go through it again at some point.

We called the doctor's office around 5:30am; Vicki was in a bit of pain but her water had not broken and her contractions were not very consistent. The doctor on-call told us, in a way which clearly indicated he was not quite awake, to wait until the contractions became more consistent. We both tried to get some rest again. I was much more successful, unsurprisingly.

At 9ish Vicki woke me up to tell me the contractions were becoming unbearable. We called the office again, and this time our doctor was on duty. He told us to come in.

We got to the hospital around 9:30am. Turns out Vicki was at 8cm already. A bit flustered, I scrambled to tell her family and wondered if they would be able to get here in time.

Vicki was fully dilated pretty soon, but we tried a few things to get the baby to turn around before trying to push. Eventually they had Vicki start pushing at 1pm. She started off making good progress, but after about two hours or so, things got stuck somewhat. The nurse started telling Vicki to rest every other contraction, and I was getting increasingly anxious watching the baby's heart-rate drop during every push. All the while the possibility of resorting to a C-section loomed, something none of us wanted.


At the three-hour mark we decided to try suction. The room bustled as preparations were made; scrubs were donned, and the doctor put Vicki into stirrups which were of course too big for her. The plastic suction grip was attached, some violent maneuvers ensued, and baby Warren was out, a full mane of hair adorning his impressive torpedo of a head. Born face-up with the cord around his neck, he looked exhausted; his cries were so feeble as the pediatrician whisked him to the warming bed. I cried too, watching him there, both of us so helpless.

The first week had its share of anxieties too. Warren wasn't sleeping well the first few nights, and I was afraid I might go crazy, anticipating the next three weeks of the same. Turns out Vicki's milk took a while to come in, and the little guy managed to drop to 5.1 lbs by that Friday. We started him on formula at that point, which eased his fussiness a lot at night and he soon returned to his birth weight. Tomorrow we find out the progress he has made since then.

Life, as Vicki and I have known it up to this point, appears to have been changed forever...

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Yep, you don't know the half of it.