Merrill's Story

It's probably about time I told Merrill's birth story, given that she's more than a week old now :).

Um ... well, this is one of those blog posts that I started right after Merrill was born and never managed to finish between having a newborn and a 20 month old and moving across the country ... well you know.  But it's a post that I have never forgotten about and have always been intending to finish someday.  Given that Merrill is turning a year old today, I thought it would be the perfect day to celebrate the story of how she came to be a part of our little family.  So, here you go, the much delayed, much loved, story of Merrill...

I have to say, Merrill's birth was a near-perfect experience that left me feeling pure joy. I had such a high after this birth that I did not experience the first time around -- not because of the result, but because of the process. I couldn't have been happier with my experience with Millie given the necessity of a c-section, and I couldn't imagine a more perfect child to be blessed with, but as many people know, that wasn't the type of birth I was hoping for. The first time around, we planned, we took classes, we hired a doula, we did everything possible to make a natural birth happen. Well, everything but discuss it with Millie :). In the end, I got to experience a little bit of natural birth as I went into labor and my water broke.; but ultimately it was about as medicalized a birth as you can get.

This time around, there was much less planning, but still a strong desire to have a natural birth. A few weeks before my due date I started re-reading my books to refresh myself about signs and stages of labor, I panicked slightly about not having a doula lined up given I was going to try a VBAC, (I even looked up the woman we took our childbirth classes with the first time around -- only to find she had moved to Scotland, I took that as a sign that I didn't need to pursue that further!).  So, I just continued to read my books and to tell myself to trust my body.  It was a little unnerving that I had to sign a waiver to give natural birth given the risks associated with a VBAC.  Again, I had to keep telling myself to trust my body and nature and not to get pulled into the hype and fear that often comes from the medical world.  My Doctor knew I wanted to try for a natural birth and she was willing to help make that happen, however she was not going to let me go past my due date and I was going to be considered more of a high risk birth (which would mean more monitoring that I wanted).  When the week of my due date rolled around and I wasn't showing signs of progress, the doctor offered to help speed things up by stripping my membranes.  (Yes, that is as uncomfortable and unpleasant as it sounds -- in fact when I had it done, I was very distressed because I really couldn't tolerate the procedure and had to ask her to stop.  I was upset that it wasn't going to work and I was going to have to have it done again and I was afraid that was an indication that I wasn't going to handle the pain of labor well).  Fortunately, it did end up working.  Not immediately, but it did.

Just 2 days before Merrill was born, I posted that there wasn't much new on the baby front and I was obviously feeling a little worn out and ready for things to happen!  I'm pretty sure that was the day I saw the doctor.  Contractions started on Wednesday July 8th.  My parents were in town already and I was still working and waiting.  I think I felt a few random contractions while I was at school working, but they were mild and spread out.  I knew it wasn't time to go rushing to the hospital, but I also knew that things were happening for real.  At 7:26 p.m. the contractions were regular enough that I started timing them.  How do I know it was 7:26 p.m.?  Not because I have a fabulous memory or because the contractions were so memorable, no, I still have the notebook where I wrote down the times :).  I kind of treasure this random notebook page :).  By this time the contractions were more frequent and regular than they had been during the day, but they still weren't regular enough to be concerned with and they certainly weren't strong enough to bother me much.  So we went on with our regular nightly routine, with the knowledge that at some point in the night or morning we would be heading to the hospital.  It was a pretty nice feeling :). 

Now, because this was going to be a VBAC, my doctor advised me to go to the hospital when the contractions were 5-7 minutes apart.  Not wanting to labor sitting in a hospital bed hooked to machines, I was looking at that 5 minute mark rather than the 7 minute one.  The contractions contineud through the night and I was up a little after 1:00 a.m. timing them again -- this time they varied from 6-9 minutes apart.  I'm a very literal person, so I was really thinking that a time would come when all of my contractions would be 5 minutes apart and I wouldn't be seeing such a range.  I learned differently once we were at the hospital and the nurse was timing my contractions -- makes it very hard to know when you should go.  But, I still wasn't struggling with the contractions, wasn't uncomfortable, wasn't out of breath, and wasn't eager to get to the hospital ... so I went back to bed :).  I was up again a little before 4:00 a.m. and this time I knew we were getting close.  I timed the contractions for about an hour, and they were 4-6 minutes apart.  BUT, there were some that were 7-9 minutes apart --

The last few times I have written down:
4:51
4:56
5:01
5:05
5:09
5:15

I think that's about the time I had Scott call the Doctor.  This is where I wish I had written this post a year ago because the sequence of events is foggy now.  I know that at some point I woke Scott and my parents up just to let them know that while it wasn't time to go yet, it would be soon.  I also took a shower.  I'm not sure if that all happened before 5:15 or after.  I do know that once I had Scott call the Doctor it took the on-call Doctor so long to call back that we just left for the hospital anyway.  There came a point in the six o'clock hour when I knew it was time to leave and then briefly got a little anxious that maybe I had waited too long.  We were fortunate that early morning traffic wasn't too heavy yet.  Keep in mind that we were living in Connecticut and the route to the hospital just happened to be the same route that thousands of commuters took to get to work in N.Y. City or the Suburbs to the west/south of us so leaving much later could have been a very bad thing.  As it was, we arrived at the hospital a little before 7 a.m.

As with Millie, our entrance to the hospital was a very calm one.  I had requested the room with the jacuzzi (as before I had all kinds of plans on how to make this a "magical" birth -- and as before the baby had her own plans!) and it wasn't ready yet so they set us up in a different room until they could get the other cleaned.  I changed and got hooked up to the machines to be monitored.  Torture.  The contractions were defnitely significant now, but nothing terrible.  Even if I had considered getting an epidural, I wouldn't have asked for one at this point.  It turns out we got there between doctor shifts and the nurses weren't even sure which doctor was coming on call -- that wasn't very reassuring, but we went with the flow.  They monitored me for 45 minutes.  All I wanted to do was get up and walk around to help manage the pain.  And eventually I got to.  The jacuzzi room was ready, so they helped us move all of our stuff and then the nurse gave us a brief tour of the labor and delivery area (showing Scott where ice and drinks and snacks were, etc.) and walked us over to the nursery to see the other new babies as inspiration.  The nurse left us then and we started to stroll the halls ourselves.  I was happy to be up and walking but definitely had to stop now when the contractions came to get through them.  Then, my water broke.  Right there in the hallway.  Um, clean-up on aisle 5!  Slightly awkward and embarrassing, but at least I was in the right place and NOT in the grocery store! 

We stopped a nurse walking by and pointed out the mess and headed back to our room.  Of course they made me get hooked up to the machines again -- which I was NOT happy about.  There was pain now and sitting up in the bed was not comfortable at all.  I still hadn't seen a doctor yet and had not be examined, so I didn't know how far along I was or how long this was going to go on.  Turns out, I was probably in transition (which is the most painful part of labor .. and the beginning of the end).  So, I struggled to get comfortable through double contractions, and Scott did everything he could to help me.  I even asked the nurse about the shower/jacuzzi.  She was open to it and started the water running.  This was all around 8:00 or so.  Again, the time details are a little fuzzy a year later ... .

As the nurse was preparing the shower, the doctor FINALLY came in.  She checked me and was quite surprised to find that her VBAC was 8 cm dilated!  I don't think she was too happy about that -- turns out I had done most of the work laboring in the comfort of my own home (given that we had only been at the hospital for an hour) and I WAS happy about that!  Now more nurses started coming in and they started prepping for the birth.  They hadn't even had a chance to put an IV in me yet (standard procedure these days -- "just in case") and the poor nurse couldn't find a vein.  I was secretly very happy about that because I wasn't looking forward to being pumped full of unnessary fluids... .   I'm not going to lie, by this time there was real pain and I was doing everything I could to concentrate and just make it through each contraction all the while trying to figure out how I could finagle a better position.  The Doctor informed me that there was a "foresac" formed and that she could break it for me if I wanted to speed things up ('cause you know, they weren't happening fast enough).  I so desperately wanted to do this WHOLE birth on my own that I sat there trying to process what she was saying and weigh the pro's and con's of her breaking the sac for me.  Fortunately nature saved me and the sac broke the rest of the way on the next contraction -- and that was it.  It was time to push. 

By now it was around 8:40.  The doctor had been with me maybe 20 minutes.  I'm guessing this wasn't how she expected to start her day, but then again, in that line of business, it probably was!  Getting the pushing thing down was tough for me.  Again, I was trying to remember the advice our childbirth educator and the books we had read -- which meant I was trying to block out the nurse and Doctor.  They did not want to be blocked out though and I ended up breathing/pushing their way just to get them to stop talking to me.  The Doctor even came right up to my face at one point and said things would go a lot faster if I just did it their way (not quite in those words, but that was the gist).  Little did she know HOW fast things would happen... (That was one of very few complaints I had with the birth -- I wasn't allowed to find my own rhythm with pushing and listen to my own body).  I think I pushed about 5 times and at 8:55 little Miss Merrill Grace came into the world.  She came a lot faster than the Doctor anticipated and the cord was wrapped around her neck so all of a sudden I had people telling me to STOP pushing.  I did.  Happily.  And anxiously waited for that first cry.

And there she was with her shock of crazy brown hair -- that hair would become her signature.  She was absolutely perfect.  Unfortunately, because the cord was wrapped around her neck, her color was off and she didn't pinken up quite fast enough.  So, they had to take her away to NICU to observe her.  I was dismayed by this as I knew she would be fine if I could just hold her and nurse her (okay, that was my severely biased mommy opinion...).  Luckily Doctors were changing shifts and the pediatrician conceded and let me hold Merrill and nurse her while they got ready for her.  I was so happy to get to hold and snuggle her for a while and to actually nurse her right away (which is something I wasn't able to do with Millie since she was a c-section...).  To my great joy, Merrill latched right away and didn't have any trouble feeding.  I was sad when they finally said they had to take her, but I was comforted to know we had those first few minutes together.  Scott had the job of following Merrill wherever they took her and making sure that the hospital followed our wishes (no bottles, etc.) and he of course did an excellent job.  Ironically, I was away from Merrill longer than I was away from Millie after my c-section -- even though she was fine.  It think it was over 3 hours before they finally brought her to me in maternity.  And this time I wasn't drugged or parlyzed from the waste down.  I was wide-awake and full of energy with nothing to do but wait!

We were finally reunited of course and we've been together ever since.  Merrill fit seamlessly into our family and it has been such a blessing to have her.  I can't believe she's been with us for a year already, and I can't believe it took me this long to tell her story.  But there it is -- straight from my heart to your eyes :).  Happy Birthday Miss Merrill Grace!