Six years ago today was a game changer--my Laurel Alexa was born. After the first year flew by, I wanted to make her something special on her first birthday. I like my voice via written word so I wanted to describe the day that she was born. (Also, I totally dropped the ball on the baby book. Boo, Hiss.) The intent was one page but the floodgates opened and my one page turned into five. I had so much to say that even after her gift was complete, I continued to write essays about being a new mom. Some you have seen about not having control of the situation (12/27), breastfeeding (1/2), and maternity leave (1/21 and 1/22). I put my essays away for awhile because it was hard to write and not have a small audience. (Not going to lie, I do like a little gratification.) Fast forward to last November when a girls weekend saved me in a way that I didn't know that I needed to be saved. I was urged to start a blog narrating my thoughts. I wanted to share Laurel's gift with you because this is truly how my blog started. While she was born..I believe that I was too.
The day that you were born was a Sunday. It was sunny. I would like to fill you in on the first nine months before telling you about your birthday.
Your dad and I wanted you very much. Not to freak you out, but we tried for almost a year before you came along. I did have one miscarriage a couple of months before you were conceived. While it was sad, the event solidified that we wanted to be parents; we were prepared and we had a lot of support around us in regards to family and friends.
The irony was during that practice time, several pregnancy test and ovulation kits; we weren't even doing it at the right time. Your dad and I are educated, resourceful people. What was wrong with us? I had to be tutored by my OB/GYN about timing. Yeah, it was pretty embarrassing.
Anyway, the pregnancy was considered easy and uneventful. After the first 12 weeks, I felt pretty good. I didn't eat anything during the first trimester because I was always nauseous. I developed an aversion to red meat and chicken. I couldn't go out to eat because reading a menu made me queasy. Sometimes I didn't want to watch television. You would be surprised how many food commercials or people drinking liquor are on TV. When I started to feel better, I really tried to eat nutritious food--I stayed away from caffeine, etc. But there were some cravings--the first being salami. Your dad only let me have it twice because you shouldn't eat deli meat during a pregnancy and salami isn't even real meat. And in the last trimester, I had this odd craving for ice and snow. I can't explain that. I was also letting myself eat whatever but still staying away from the bad stuff. I was very excited for you to arrive and it felt like I was pregnant for a long time. While I only gained 41 pounds total, I was very lucky that (I was told) I didn't look pregnant in the back or in my face. But near the end I felt huge.
When you were inside me, your signature move was to stretch and push one of your hands in my side. I could see it happening; all of a sudden my belly had a corner.
We didn't find out if you were a boy or a girl. I really wanted to be surprised when you were born. But I had a strong feeling that you were a boy. Actually I was convinced. Your dad guessed girl because he knew on of us would be right.
The night before you were born, we ordered pizza and watched Mr+Mrs Smith. The pizza I had was a Maui pizza--it had sliced tomatoes, pepperoni and pineapple. I ate the whole large pizza--it was delicious. I capped it off with a whoopie pie from around the corner. Your dad didn't like the movie--I thought it was amusing. Now, every time I see it on HBO, I think of that night.
You were officially due on February 15 so when I went to bed on February 4, I really wasn't expecting anything. All your dad and I had planned for the next day was to go grocery shopping and watch the Super Bowl. Very trite, but true, labor started at 4:00 in the morning. But it was very mild and I knew I needed to get as much sleep as possible. I was able to go back to sleep until 7:00 but then I was just lying there listening to your dad's light mucous filled snore.
I had a good amount of energy and I think this was my nesting time. I decided that I needed to be well-groomed for the hospital. I got up, showered, washed my hair, shaved my legs, moisturized and straightened my hair. I decided that make-up wasn't necessary.
All of this was done by 8:00. I am surprised I didn't watch TV--I went back upstairs to lie in bed next to your dad. At this point, he was wondering why I was up. I never get up early if I don't have to. I didn't want to tell him at first because I didn't want to freak him out. I wasn't sure how he was going to react. So I said it exactly this way: "I don't want to freak you out but I think today is the day." "Okay," he said, and rolled over and went back to sleep.
Ironically, your aunt Jess called...just wanted to know how we were in her sunny morning way. She now feels bad that she woke Ching up (and this time he couldn't get back to sleep) on the last possible day he would be able to sleep late. She was pretty excited when I told her what was happening and of course she had to remind me that she didn't need an epidural.
Your dad got up and ran some errands. He got two donuts--one for me and one for you. He went into work quickly to get his cell phone charger and went to CVS to pick up some random things. One, of which, is the blue headband that I have on in our first family picture. When he got back from his trip, he asked the question that is a dominant memory of the day. He asked, "I know you don't have control of when (Little Wang) comes, but do you think it could be after the game?" I told him that I would do my best.
So now we are waiting. I am sitting on the couch just timing contractions. No one told me that contractions don't necessarily need to be patterned to signify that the labor is progressing. You were progressing pretty fast; I just didn't know it at the time. One contraction would be 4 mins, then 7 mins, then 1 min--it was all over the place but I was patiently waiting for the contractions to be patterned.
Around noon, your dad and I were timing the contractions together. They were pretty strong and some right after the other. Since my water hadn't broker and there was no pattern, I still thought we had plenty of time.
I kept telling your dad that after each contraction, I was rubbing dirt on it and getting back into the game. When your dad and I first met (which happened to be fall), we watched a lot of football together. When a player would get injured, I would jokingly say that they just needed to rub dirt on it and get back into the game. After awhile, your dad got upset with my statement. He had several friends that played college level football and an injury can be pretty serious. A player doesn't want to be hurt and come out of the game. I didn't think about it that way and never said anything like that regarding a player and an injury. The contractions were the worse pain that I ever experienced but I never felt like I was suffering. I was trying to be as strong as possible and the only way that I could verbalize this to your dad was saying the comment about rubbing dirt on it. And I want it duly noted that I was very kind to your dad during this whole time. Some women scream at their husbands. I could not do that. I knew that he wanted to take some of the pain but couldn't. I knew that he was doing his best to help me anyway possible.
Let me try to describe the pain. When the labor started it was incredibly mild. It felt like I was going to get my period. It wasn't even strong enough to wish for Advil. That's why I was able to go to back to sleep. As the contractions got stronger, it was like a revving engine. The pain somewhat took my breath away--I couldn't talk or walk during them. I tried to order groceries online during them with no luck--I never got out of the produce aisle.
After an hour of the really strong (not patterned!) contractions, your dad insisted on calling the hospital. My hesitancy of going was a fear that if I hadn't progressed enough, they would make me go home. They said I might as well come in if the contractions were pretty strong and apparently it was pretty quiet at the hospital. Your dad took charge..very efficient and got everything in the car. I couldn't even get my sneakers on.
I distinctly remember walking out the back door behind your dad. It was a very sunny but brisk--I had on my green winter coat. Your dad said, "Next time that we come home, we will have a child!" I couldn't even focus that far ahead. I was just trying to get from the back door to the car.
Several weeks before you were born, we toured the hospital. I remember thinking on the drive home how short of a trip it was from the Kenmore area of Boston to Newton. Now, as I was sitting in the front seat, somewhat writhing in pain, the trip didn't seem short. It also seemed like your dad was hitting every single pothole on the road regardless of it being on the left or right side. You would think that there wouldn't be traffic on a leisurely Sunday, but there was. We got caught behind a couple of old ladies going 15 miles under the speed limit. Your dad was also cut off by another driver. I honestly think he was torn between making the driver pay or getting me to the hospital. Thankfully, he chose the latter.
Beth Israel Hospital is great when it comes to not letting a pregnant woman linger in the lobby. (They probably want to save the carpets too.) As soon as they saw me and your dad (making a gesture that he was going to park the car in a moment), they rushed us right upstairs. They had valet parking too.
At this point, it was hard to tell if my thoughts were due to the pain or just due to my personality. Check in just seemed to last too long. The check in nurse seemed slow both in personality and ability. She needed me to change into a hospital gown and give a urine specimen. This was the hardest task I was given. For some reason, with the contractions, I had a very hard time getting this done. Needless to say, there were a few knocks on the door asking me if I was okay. No specimen--I had been trying to go all morning. Basically I was trying to will my water to break.
So I finally get the gown on and have to lie down on this table with two cushions--vinyl cushions! It was like I was sitting in a lawn chair. I was nervous that this was where I had to give birth. Luckily, it was just the triage room, I guess. The nurse then checked how dilated I was. This is neither a pleasant nor quick task. They are using as many fingers as possible and they are pretty slow. BUT, I was 9 centimeters dilated. That's right--9 centimeters with absolutely no drugs! Your Aunt Jess can't even top that one. We were pretty lucky that your dad insisted on getting to the hospital when we did.
So they wheel me into the delivery room. As soon as I get in there, I start begging for drugs. First I asked for Nubain (that's the analgesic that Jess used. It is considered a painkiller but not an epidural). This is where my voice changed. I was kind of barking/growling out statements or requests. The nurses said that the Nubain would work considering how far along in labor I was. So I begged for an epidural. This is about the time the OB came into the room. She looked at my chart and chirped, "How are you doing Judy?" I growled, "it's Jude!" The OB's name was Dr Smaha (I can't make that up.) She was very nice and understood why I was kind of rude.
The administering of the epidural took much longer than I thought. First they have to insert a needle/I.V. into my spine when I was curled up like a shrimp THEN they tape the needle down THEN they hook the epidural drug to the needle/I.V. All of this has to be done when no contractions are taking place. Since my contractions were pretty close together, the process took longer than I thought. Also, when all of this takes place, I have to be completely still. Some women choose not to have an epidural because a needle goes into the spine. One wrong move and it's not pleasant. At that point of my labor, they could have inserted a needle in my eye and I would have been fine.
I needed the epidural because I wasn't ready to give birth without having some semblance of control. I needed to rest a bit and gather my thoughts. I wanted to appreciate the moment and I couldn't with full blown contractions.
So I get the epidural and I am incredibly comfortable. I hadn't been that comfortable in a long time. Also, just to know, the epidural is pretty much instant. Powerful stuff.
While I was living free of any discomfort, they broke my water. Big gush..but the bad news was that you pooped while you were in there and it was floating all around. The concern was that some of it could have gotten in your nose and throat.
Now, when all of this is going on a television was on so we could watch the Superbowl. It was about 6:00 so the pre-game events were still going one. I was also happy as a clam because I had a cupful of ice chips--you know, the ice craving. It was a pretty exciting time, like the few minutes just before you start tearing into Christmas gifts.
Right as kick-off was about to happen, I was told it was time to push. I really didn't want to because I was afraid that I was going to be pushing for a long time. I knew that it was going to be hard and honestly, I was afraid that I couldn't do it.
As we are prepping to get the show going, your heart rate dropped to about half. A mild panic among the hospital staff took place--but I wasn't panicked. We were at one of the best hospitals in Boston and I knew that you were going to be okay. As soon as I rolled over on my right side, your heart rate was back to normal but they wanted you out soon. I was given the option of pushing for a couple of rounds to see if I could make progress. As soon as they could get to your head, they were going to suction you out. If that didn't work, a C-section needed to be done. Again, I wasn't panicked. Some women have a hard time with not being able to deliver naturally. I really didn't care about how the delivery was done. I just wanted you out and okay.
So as kick off began between the Steelers and the Seahawks, I started to push. The pushing process is 3-ten second pushes and then a short rest until the next contraction. During my rest, they had me on my right side. Your dad was incredibly supportive and motivating. In high school, your dad got the Park City Pride Award during this senior year football season. While he rarely played, he loved the game and always supported and motivated his teammates. I guess it was good prep.
When you push while giving birth, you don't have to focus on a muscle group. You just push with all your might (but it does help to think that you are a taking a really big poop). Most of my pushes were quite good but some of them weren't so good. The funny thing is that the doctor would tell me when it wasn't a good one. I didn't have a problem with feedback--it was like, "my bad, I will try again". Looking back, that moment of pushing you out was the strongest I have ever felt. I truly believe that I could have lifted a car with that strength that I had during that moment. We were lucky that with a few pushes, you were coming quite fast. As soon as they saw your head, they sucked you out. Your dad said it was a good think that I couldn't see this part because apparently your head became quite misshapen but then went right back into place.
I cannot describe what it was like when you actually came out of my body. It is just an odd, surreal felling that another person is emerging. I can tell you that it absolutely didn't hurt.
As soon as you were born (7:32), they announced that we had a girl. I was stunned that I had been wrong all this time. I almost asked them to check again. I am sure that there was a part of your dad that was satisfied that he was right--but he never let on.
You were very aware but didn't cry. I wasn't able to see you right away. You were whisked over to the side so they could suction out your nose and throat. But even after they did that you still didn't cry. You were so calm.
There were a lot of thoughts that where going through my mind during these moments. "I hope she is okay. Are you sure she is a girl? Holy Crap, I am some one's mom. My life will never be the same. Maybe they could put her back in. Hey the game is still in the second quarter, I bet I could catch Grey's Anatomy later." None of these things were said out loud.
Your dad was beaming and couldn't believe how beautiful you were. He also said that I pushed like a champ. He held you before I did. I couldn't hold you because there was still some work that had to be done on me. To put it briefly, you did some damage. But luckily, most days, I am not incontinent.
So your dad is holding you, and I am having a conversation with a couple of doctors who are sewing up my girly bits. Just social convo like, "where did you go to med school?". Stuff like that..
They kep telling us how beautiful you were. Doctors and nurses don't lie about that. If you had been ugly, you would have been breathtaking, precious, or we would have been "proud".
We were asked if we had a name. The deal that your dad and I had with names was this. I picked our 5 girl names and he would pick his favorite. He picked 5 boys names and I picked my favorite. I absolutely loved the name Laurel--it was my #1 pick. I thought the name sounded very wise, feminine and strong. While you are not name after your Nana, I thought it was a nice connection. But your dad wasn't into the name at first so he chose Alexa, which was #2. This name is my middle name and I wanted to give you a feminine name with the opportunity for a boy's nickname like me. Going into the hospital, if you were a girl, you would have been Alexa Laurel Wang. But your dad and I felt that your name should be Laurel because you came out so calm and peaceful. (I was also pretty psyched that I got my #1 pick). So we switched to Laurel Alexa Wang. We share the same middle name.
I called your Aunt Jess. She was ecstatic but jealous that I didn't have to push as long as she did. I called your Nana. You know how opinionated she is..she wouldn't believe that you were a girl. She was convinced that you were a boy too. Your dad called a few people but sent our your picture on his cell phone to everyone.
Around this time was when our first family picture was taken. This was the day that you were born.
(Steelers won 21 to 10. Hines Ward was the MVP of the game.)
