For anyone interested. ; )
On an early morning in March, just before 3am, I woke up to use the bathroom (this had become a custom during my last week of pregnancy). Shortly after settling back in bed, I felt some sort of liquid trickling down my leg. Since I had just relieved myself, I knew it couldn't have been urine. It must've been my water breaking! I remember going back into the bathroom to investigate and then researching what one's water breaking can feel like (I always assumed it would feel like a gush of liquid as opposed to a trickle) before tenderly waking Peter up and telling him (with a very serious look on my face), "I think my water broke." I called my doctor's office, and the doctor on call said I could either go to the hospital and have them make sure it was my water breaking, or I could wait until the office opened at 8 and go there, just in case I was sent back home. I was seen at my doctor's office at 8:45am, and, sure enough, my water had broken, so I was then sent to the hospital.
Peter and I hauled half of all our belongings (I'm exaggerating, but it felt like a lot in the moment) into the maternity wing of the hospital around 9:40am, where we were admitted into triage and then into a labor and delivery room shortly after (Side note: We had the absolute BEST nurse while in the labor and delivery room, and I'm grateful that she got to spend the better part of the day with us, and she even stayed a little past the end of her shift to be with me when I first started pushing!). Several doctors mentioned that I would need to be induced because a) as someone who tested positive for Group B strep, I would potentially put my baby at risk by waiting for labor to happen naturally, b) when my labor DID start around 11am, contractions were only happening every 20 minutes, not fast enough for the doctor's liking, and c) I was only 1-2cm dilated.
They induced me around 12pm. The contractions were tolerable at the beginning, but I struggled to remain relaxed whenever they occurred. Peter was the most amazing support, giving me the words of encouragement that I needed (and making adjustments when necessary, like when I started getting annoyed with him murmuring "I know" lol) and the massages, squeezes, hugs, and kisses that served as physical tokens of encouragement. I really wanted to have an unmedicated birth, but I knew it'd be okay if that's not what happened in the end, which was good, because around 4pm, I opted for an epidural. I was experiencing VERY intense contractions in my back, which hurt WAY more than the contractions I experienced in my front, and when they became 2-3 minutes apart, I had to tap out. They were just too unbearable for me. The doctor had also checked me shortly beforehand, and I was still only 3-4cm dilated. Yeah, there was no way I was going to ride that pain out. Super thankful that things like epidurals exist!
Around 6pm, Peter and I were settling in with our dinners (meatloaf for him and chicken broth for me) and a Netflix show when the doctor came in to check on my progress again. We were ALL shocked to learn that I was fully dilated! She snapped into action mode and told me not to eat a thing, told Peter to wolf down his food, and told us both to prepare ourselves. Just before 7pm, I began the long and arduous process of pushing. It took a total of about three hours, with a thirty-minute break after the first hour to give the baby a much needed rest (her heartbeat had been fluctuating a bit). It was also really hard because I couldn't feel anything down below, thanks to the epidural! How do you push when you can't feel the muscles you should be able to feel in order to push?? It was an interesting experience, let me tell you.
Finally, around 10:45pm, my doctor gave me an ultimatum. She said she wanted the baby out in the next ten minutes or she'd have to bring in a vacuum to help her out that involved some risks, none of which I had thought were worth the baby experiencing. That apparently did the trick, because at 10:54pm that night, my little Emalyn was born.
They put her into my arms immediately, and I just started sobbing. I was partly sobbing with relief that the pushing was finally over, but I was mostly sobbing because the moment had finally arrived for us to meet our baby girl, and it was wonderful (even though she looked like a cross between a vampire and a booger - Peter's description, not mine). I did have a slight tear, and, based on its location, it took an hour to stitch me up. I didn't mind though. I still couldn't feel anything, and I was busy looking from Emalyn to Peter and back again in wonder. I mean, we had actually created this little person! It was such a hard concept to fathom in the moment because she had spent so much time inside of me and only a little amount of time outside of me. I unfortunately don't remember much about what it was like to breastfeed her for the first time, but I do remember being in awe of how intuitive it was for her. We had to work a bit on her latch, but it was still rather amazing.
Emalyn is almost a month old now, and I've been able to spot the differences between what she was like at 0 days old and what she's like now. She's definitely put on weight (I can feel the difference but I also see it in her little belly), and she looks a bit longer too. She's starting to fit more comfortably into her newborn clothes instead of drowning in them. Her eyes have gone from deep blue to a deep grayish green (I'm really hoping she keeps this feature so she looks more like a mix of the two of us instead of just me). She's experimenting with more sounds. Her neck muscles are much stronger, and she will often attempt to hold her head up on her own. She definitely sees us now, and she also recognizes our voices instantaneously.
I've also learned about some of the things she likes and doesn't like. She likes putting her hands up to her face. She likes being held. She likes naps. She likes dreaming (she often smiles and even laughs in her sleep). She likes being bounced. She likes it when someone sings to her (she immediately recognizes the song I used to sing to her in the womb when I sing it now!). She likes when she's turned into a baby burrito at night. She likes being cuddled (this happens a lot while Peter is gaming). She loves breastmilk lol. She doesn't really like baths. She doesn't like pooping. She doesn't like having a poopy diaper but she also doesn't like having her diaper changed. She definitely doesn't like being hungry. She doesn't like when her swaddle is loose enough for her to break free from. She doesn't like when you try to trick her into thinking your finger is the same as the tip of a baby bottle in your attempts to soother her while you're waiting for the bottle to warm up (this worked when she was less than a week old but doesn't work anymore). She hates waiting.
These past few weeks have been exhausting but wonderful. Having a baby has not only tested my patience and endurance but also my marriage. Going from a family of two to a family of three is quite a drastic change! We're taking each day in stride, though, and we're honestly just thrilled to have the privilege of being Emalyn's parents.
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