My gorgeous baby girl only, deciding to arrive when she was ready! I was due on June 19 (with my induction scheduled for July 1), but Miss Arya finally made her grand entrance on June 29!
See that hair?! That would explain all the vicious acid reflux I had!
Lance was on the way to the airport on Friday to pick up his mother, and I opted to stay home and avoid the long drive and get a few last minute things done. While grocery shopping, I finally felt what seemed to be legitimate contractions (after months and months of Braxton Hicks). I kept leaning on the grocery cart, pretending to check stuff off my list rather than brace myself for the ensuing pain - I wonder if I fooled anyone :P I texted Lance, who was in Friday-evening-rush-hour-stand-still-Seattle-traffic, letting him know that I thought that night would finally be the night, but not to worry as it felt like we had time still. That didn't stop him from freaking his mom out though :P
My timing was pretty spot on; the rest of the family got home several hours later, they ate dinner that I had prepared, and I took what I was anticipating to be my last shower. After trying to nap and gather last minute things, I finally woke Lance up at about 2am and told him we should just go ahead and leave for the hospital.
The entire way there I was terrified that they would turn me back as I wasn't miserable, but luckily they kept me. I officially checked in at 3:15am, and they went ahead and admitted me to a room while they figured out my doctor situation (my main doctor was vacationing in Hawaii, must've been nice!). I was 2cm dilated and the pain was increasing, so they kept me and had the doctor on call examine me.
After increasing pain and further dilating, the drugs came and the doctor let us know that he'd check in on us "in an hour" to see how far along I was and hopefully I could begin pushing. This pattern continued, miserably, until about 11am, when it was finally time!
Unfortunately, the doctor mentioned how big she is and kept talking to the nurse about wanting to get "OP" in for his opinion. After about 20 minutes, the official OB/GYN on call came to our room and he agreed that not only was she large, but they were afraid if I continued pushing that her shoulders may get stuck. Lovely.
I was wheeled off to the Operating Room, and Lance was told to stay behind while they prep me and get me numbed. They were in a big hurry to get the C-Section started, and they told Lance if I couldn't be numbed properly, that they would have to put me under, in which case he could not be there with me. Luckily that wasn't an issue, and a few minutes later Lance was by my side. The entire team was in a big hurry to begin and kept stressing the fact, and I hadn't realized until a few days later that the baby's heart rate was steadily declining, explaining the immediacy and seriousness of the situation. Thank God I didn't know.
Aside from my upper body shaking uncontrollably from the anesthesia, and my major loss of blood (which I didn't realize until afterwards), and the fact that they had to "push her head back in," the C-Section went well! I was very nervous - this was my very first surgery and I hearing the urgency in everyone's voices scared me, but I forced myself to remain calm and brave, thinking that my mindset could make a difference in the outcome. I kept my (very drugged) brave face on, but once I finally heard her cry, I began to try too and let myself drift off to the sleep that I was desperately avoiding.
Lance was amazing the entire time! He too sensed the urgency and was in a better mindset to comprehend what was going on. When he finally was admitted to the Operating Room with me, he sat next to me and I could see the smile in his eyes, being the brave rock that I needed. He saw the massive amount of blood I had lost and he knew that it wasn't normal, but I kid you not, he even gave me a thumbs up during the procedure and kept the bravest face on the entire time. He took pictures of her and was able to cut the cord when offered, and while they finished stitching me up, he was able to spend an entire hour all alone with our newest daughter, rocking her and loving her all to himself.
At this point Lance ran home to get cleaned up and to grab something to eat, and I still hadn't held Arya. I was pretty loopy still and my arms were still shaking, so the nurse propped her up on my chest and shoulder and I was able to be with my baby girl for the first time :)
Recovery wasn't as bad as I had anticipated (I'll take a C-Section over an episiotomy any day!!), but it was still rough. I am choosing to breastfeed for the first time, so dealing with those woes, the incision, and a new baby... just enough frustrations that any new mom can relate to.
The kids are smitten with her! I'll never forget the look on their faces when they first came into my recovery room - the look of awe spread across both their faces, and they both agreed she was just the most beautiful baby.
My mother-in-law Brenda was head-over-heels in love as well, steadily rocking her and staring at her in silence, while the rest of the family visited with me and were chatting up a storm.
It wasn't until a few days after I got home from the hospital and finally made the time to review our pictures that I realized that I don't have any pictures of Daddy with Baby Arya! He was my coach, my cheerleader, and the ringleader of the bunch, and we all were too distracted to catch that. Nothing we can do about it now other than take thousands of pictures of them together, for the rest of our lives :)