Our daughter, Sonja Mae Lindquist, was born on Tuesday, May 24th, 2011 at 5:05am. She was 7 pounds, 4.6 oz and 18 3/4 inches long and 10 days late. Although she arrived past her due date, she shares her birthday with the other love of my life, my husband. We still cannot believe this happened as there are 364 other days of the year she on which she could have arrived. (This is also her aunt Chelsea's birthday as well; now we will have three type A Geminis in the family wink wink!)
To bring you up to speed, my faithful little bloggies, I will rewind a bit. I have had several requests to blog about my birthing story, much to my delighted surprise.
Above is a picture of me on my due date May 14th, with my round belly, double chin and all. Joe and I decided to purchase a Canon 40D on ebay with which to take pictures of our baby. And I can tell you, this camera was worth every penny. I'd rather have priceless memories than money stored in the bank. (Weird factoid: the guy who sold us the camera's lens at the camera shop was truly a unique breed of geek. While we were grateful he knew everything under the sun about camera lenses, he was so socially awkward that when we told him we were planning on taking pictures of our soon to arrive baby, he claims he didn't even notice I was pregnant! At 39 weeks!!)
As you can tell, nothing happened on my due date. Or the next day. Or the next. Or the day after that. Sigh...
For 9 days past her due date, I wrung my hands in frustration (to say the least). I was ADDICTED to watching A Baby Story, Baby's First Day, Bringing Home Baby, I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant...basically every show on TLC revolving around motherhood and pregnancy. My husband calls TLC the freak show channel because they produce so many shows on the most raw elements of life. (These shows are in addition to my faves on MTV: 16 and Pregnant and Teen Mom. You can guess what Joe thinks of these programs. Yep, it's usually me and the cat on the couch.) I will surmise that you are probably smirking at my candor by now. But it was TRUE. All I could think about was going into labor and believe me, did I ever beseech the Heavenly Father like I never had in my life. I prayed for labor day in and day out. I tried to keep my complaints on my Facebook status to a minimum. It was interesting how so many people, via the Internet, rallied around me at the very end of my pregnancy. I was truly floored and humbled at how many were praying for me to go into labor naturally.At my midwife office visit at 41 weeks, I was asked when I wanted to be induced. Joe came with me, thank God. I didn't want to make the decision of when our child's birthday was going to be without him. They told me I was to be induced in the morning and, typically, for first time moms it takes about 12 hours for them to dialate to the point of being ready to push. Add on top of that pushing time, and baby typically arrives in the wee morning hours the next day.
Oh, how we were so hoping to bring our little one home and put him or her to bed in their very own room we'd be preparing for them. Nothing was more disheartening to me than seeing an empty room day after day past my due date.On May 23rd, I just happened to tell one of my facebook friends, Leah, who is a Labor & Delivery nurse about the drug, Cytotec, my midwife intended to use to induce me. She and I talked on the phone that afternoon and she convinced me to explore other induction options that would be safer for me and baby. To this day, I find this conversation ironic. I discussed with her my goal of delivering my child naturally, sans drugs. I truly wanted to experience labor and delivery- every ache and pain, every contraction. I worked on my mental game for months prior. I knew that it would be pain like I've never experienced before in my life. (Many of you know I survived a brain hemorrhage in 2004. Hands down, I would rather experience child labor without drugs than endure a sporadic cavernoma with 2 weeks in ICU again.) I am definitely a risk taker and I love a good challenge. At about 3 o'clock in the afternoon while talking with Leah, I felt my first honest to goodness contraction. It felt like a hot flash and spasm of pain flooding through my body and I threw off the blanket on top of me. At the time, I chalked it up to being so out of it at 41 1/2 weeks pregnant and accustomed to being uncomfortable all the time. I credit finally going into labor from talking to Leah...and many, many prayers sent heavenward. From 5pm to 9pm, the contractions were about 15 to 20 minutes apart. I remember talking to my mom, who called me daily toward the end to check up, and telling her about my contractions. She said, "It's time."
At this time, I knew I was legitimately going into labor and I wish I could tell you I was giddy with excitement. Honestly, I felt relief and an impending sense of closure. Joe and I were so tired- he from end of the school year happenings and me from, well, being overdue. By 10 pm, my contractions were steadily growing closer and closer together and more intense. At this time, because I hadn't done it yet, I decided to finally write in my husband's birthday card. So, between contractions I wrote as fast as I could, pacing back and forth down the hallway as I needed to when I felt the onset of a contration.
By 11pm, we determined it was time to call the consulting nurses line. It's a strange experience calling the consulting nurses line. She asked me how far apart and how long my contractions were (5-7 minutes apart and about 1 or 1 1/2 minutes in duration) and a few other questions. I distinctly remember her telling me, "Congratulations! You're going to have a baby on the 24th." And that was when we realized that our baby- still a mystery as to a him or a her- was going to have the same birthday as daddy.
Joe, our two kitties, and I all curled up on the bed as I rested as much as I could. Sometime around 1am, my water broke and I told Joe that we were headed to the hospital NOW. We either called or texted our parents to let them know and we were off. We also called our doula, Ann, let her know what was happening, and she agreed to meet us at St. Joe's. My contractions were about a minute apart as we arrived at labor and delivery. The midwife determined I was 5cm and 80% effaced. At this point, I will spare my more modest readers some details. (If you really want to know, I'll tell you, Leah. ;) The next two hours were the most painful part of my labor. Contractions, for me, felt like the worst menstrual cramps I've ever felt... times 10. I've learned now that the discomfort I felt from female things is a very small taste of what pregnancy, labor, and postpartum was like for me. Really, every cramp I ever had, every discomfort I experienced from being a woman was only to prepare me for the aforementioned. Pregnancy and labor was really what women were designed to do by God. When I was deep in the trenches of full on labor, I remember my body's natural circadian rhythms fighting against my labor pains. I wanted so desparately to sleep, but my labor pains had the stronger will. My doula and nurses compared it to running a marathon...without any sleep, with very little food beforehand.
With Ann on my left side and Joe on my right, I finally reached the pushing phase. My midwife couldn't believe I dilated as quickly as I did for a first time mom. I was so exhausted while pushing, I literally fell asleep between contractions, believe it or not. I pushed for almost 1 1/2 hours until the midwife determined the baby's heartrate was falling into the 60's and 70's- too low. She told me, "You must push this baby out right now!" I was amazed at how I pushed about 95% of the way and then the wisdom of my body seemed to know how to push the remaining little bit. I pushed with every fiber of my being and I could tell from Ann, Joe, the L & D nurse, and my midwife that she was finally crowning. The knowledge that my baby's heartrate was falling precariously low was the incentive I needed. And then...
My dream of her coming out and being placed on my chest did not happen. When she came out, the midwife was so concerned with suctioning out her mouth and nose as a result of the meconium she ingested, she didn't even notice the sex of our baby. For several tense seconds after she came out as the midwife worked to help our baby breathe, no one said anything. All I heard was the click of the shutter on our camera. My hormones shifted so fast I shook uncontrollably. Ann leaned over and whispered in my ear, "It's a girl". Sonja. She was HERE. In fact, they didn't even let Joe cut the cord before the nurses wisked her away to do post-birth tests and clean her up. I looked over at the window as golden dawn broke over the city. The darkest hour literally was right before dawn. Joe was the first to hold her. I had to wait while the midwife stitched me up from the episiotomy (one of only a handful she's ever done in the 500 births she's been apart of). Then they told me it was time to nurse her. Surrounded by a doula and nurses all giving me instructions at the same time as to how to nurse my child, I finally held Sonja and she vigorously nursed for about half and hour.
(Post-partum coming soon...)
