Sound the Alarm

It's baby time! The excitement is overwhelming. I can't explain it, but instinctually, my body just knew what to do. I could feel the pressure of a contraction and my body just knew when and how to push. It was uncomfortable, but it I wouldn't describe it as pain...yet. Joel held my hand, brushed my hair back, he told me over and over again how great of a job I was doing, how proud he was of me, and how close we were to meeting our baby. I needed to hear all of those things. I was SO tired. I'd been in labor for what seemed like forever and its exhausting to say the least. Even though you're laying down the whole time, it takes one hell of a toll on your body. Joel later told me it took everything he had to not laugh at me while I was pushing. Apparently my face turned redder than my hair because I was pushing so hard and I was grunting like wild boar. Bless his soul.

After pushing about six times, all of the sudden in the middle of my next push, the fetal monitoring alarm went off. My baby's heart rate dropped, then went right back up to normal. I panicked and yelled "what the hell is that?". My midwife told me it happens sometimes and I shouldn't worry about it. But I WAS worried. No one wants to hear that sound. I can still hear it in my mind, I still have nightmares about it. I pushed about three more times, and the alarm sounded off each time. Then on my next push, the alarm sounded, but this time it didn't stop. Her heart rate plummeted and wasn't coming back up. This time it wasn't my Mom and Joel telling me not to push, it was my midwife. And that when things got scary. Our baby's umbilical cord was compressing, cutting off her oxygen with every contraction.

Our perfect girl

My midwife hits the emergency button next to my bed. A flood of nurses from the L & D floor and the NICU rush into my room as well as the Doctor in charge of the entire floor. They basically push Joel out of the way, two nurses grab my legs, and push them all the way up into my armpits. The doctor and all the nurses are talking so fast about vacuum assisted birth, forceps and episiotomy's. I look over at Joel, who has basically been forced into the corner, and he is terrified. I could see it all over his face. He later told me he thought in those few minutes he was going to lose us both. I was so scared, I needed him to be strong for me and the baby. I literally yelled at him, "change your face!". And he did immediately. He manned up and even though he wasn't next to me anymore, I just looked at him and knew we would be ok. Then I see the doctor rip open a steri-pouch and pull out a pair of sharp ass scissors. Oh shit, I thought to myself. I know what this means. Episiotomy time. He's going to give me a vag-anus. I hope he knows what he's doing. Joel better not be watching this.

With one swift motion, he performs a grade 3 episiotomy. I wouldn't Google that if you know what's good for you. I swear it was so quick it was like he was cutting through tissue paper. The doctor looks at me and says, "I need you to push like your baby's life depends on it, because it does. We have to get her out NOW and she won't make it to the OR." He was yelling at me. I needed to be yelled at.

Up until that moment, I didn't feel like a Mom. Hell, I'd only been pregnant in my mind for five weeks. When the doctor told me that, I reached down deep into my soul and my maternal instinct took over. I pushed so hard. I was the only one who could save my baby. And I did. She came sliding out in that one powerful push. And it HURT. For a split second, oh my God did it hurt. She came out screaming, peeing on everyone and everything. They place her on my chest for a second before whisking her out of the room to check on her. I did it. She's here and she's ok.

I yell at Joel to follow our baby because I've seen the Lifetime movies, y'all. The ones where the hospital accidentally switches babies. That was certainly not going to happen to us. I yell "what's her Apgar?" as they wheeled her out in her little box. The nurse laughed. She had only been out of my womb for less than a minute and I was already demanding to know her test score. NINE. Her Apgar was nine. She was perfect. They said the only way she would have been a ten is if she came out pooping.

I got what I wished for out of my birth plan. I got drugs and we both didn't die. Success. Victory. Joel is a Dad, and I'm a Mom. From the second the Midwife pushed the emergency button until they placed our perfect baby on my chest, less than five minutes had passed. It seemed like a lot longer than that when you live through it. Those will forever be the most terrifying, harrowing, daunting, exciting, rewarding, and amazing five minutes of our entire lives.

Joel becomes a Daddy