For many of you (I say that as if more than our parents read this
blog) this will NOT be fun to read, and to be honest it wasn't fun to
live through either. I do however want to document it for Eve so she
knows someday the story of her entrance into the world.
It all started that morning at my much anticipated doctor's
appointment. I had purposely rescheduled it so I would be over 39
weeks (39 weeks and 2 days to be exact, and yes, I was counting!) and
had been told that they would strip my membranes. Did the doc? No,
she refused to do it until I was over 40 weeks. I went home
frustrated and perhaps on the brink of despair.
Later that afternoon the midwife who delivered Holland CALLED ME. I
was surprised to hear her voice, we had not seen each other in almost
two years. I was however delighted when she offered to strip my
membranes on Thursday the 26th. She said she'd be on call that day
and would happily deliver our baby. I was suddenly filled with so
much hope. This really was going to happen (while I never seriously
doubted that it would happen, my confidence in it happening in 2013
was starting to get shaky)
At that point I could tell I was coming down with something. My ears
were throbbing and I started to get the chills. It wasn't until I
threw up that I thought, "Oh great, here we go again." A short 20
months ago I gave birth to Holland while sick. The memory was a bit
too fresh in my mind and I knew that if this baby was going to come on
its sickness was the trigger.
As the day wore on I kept getting sicker and sicker. My temperature
was all over the place and my throat started to scream in pain every
time I swallowed.
I texted Eric: Just lost my lunch. . . i'm sure if the baby wants to
be early it will be tonight. . . later at 9:20PM. . . contractions
every four minutes, this could be our lucky night. . . I bet my
Christmas that this baby's coming tonight.
Around 9PM contractions started every three/four minutes like
clockwork. They were strong but not alarming. At first I thought we
should rush to the hospital but after gathering a few things I decided
I would rather labor at home for a while. It was then that we had a
really tender moment with our three oldest boys. They asked what
would happen and we explained to them the birth process along with
stories from each of their deliveries. We talked for over two hours.
It was sweet and I was grateful for this quiet time with them. It was
during this conversation that Christian suggested that if the baby was
born on Christmas Eve and if she was a girl that we name her Eve. We
had never considered that name before. Up until that point I think we
were pretty set on either Mary Beck or Amelia Beck, but at that moment
Eve Beck just sounded right. Around 12:30AM I started to feel
exhausted and suggested that we TRY to get some sleep. I knew it was
optimistic. About 30 minutes after laying down, and not sleeping, the
intensity of the contractions escalated and I knew that things were
starting to really progress. I thought my water had broken and rushed
to the bathroom where I was surprised to see several large blood
clots. A little alarmed I woke up Eric and we jumped in the car for
the 20 minute drive to the hospital.
By the time we got to the hospital I was carefully breathing through
the contractions. We did all the hospital protocol and I surprised
myself when they asked if I wanted a epidural and I immediately said,
"YES!" I think I knew that the sickness had already compromised my
strength and in retrospect am grateful for that wise decision.
Of course, the epidural wasn't all peaches and cream. The
anesthesiologist didn't like the placement of the first catheter and
opted to insert it again in a different spot. I am still really sore
in both spots. It took longer than usual for the medication to kick
in but I was able to talk the doc into NOT giving me one of those
silly buttons and instead just loading me up on all sorts of good
meds. By the time everything was working it was a good epidural.
This whole time the staff was concerned about my high heart rate. No
one knew exactly what was going on but all eyes seemed to be locked on
the monitors.
Suddenly I tanked. My blood pressure dropped to something scary.
This wasn't the first time that I've had this reaction to an epidural.
I could tell I was starting to feel light headed, that I was going to
throw up, and that I wanted to take a nap all at the same time. Eric
said I went white. He's my greatest advocate in the delivery room and
seeing as though this was baby number eight he can really intuit what
I need. As always, I was grateful to have him at my side.
The anesthesiologist rushed back in and did her magic and within a few
minutes I was still exhausted but stable. The midwife came in and
asked if she could break my water. I thought that sounded like a
great idea. I had no desire, even with an epidural, to drag this
process out longer than needed.
Before I knew it I start to shake. Shaking for me is my indicator
that the baby will be here in just a moment.
Eve came out in one contraction and two big pushes. I needed the pain
to be over and I gave it all I had (left). It was awful and horrible
and all-consuming this time, but it was short and that saved me.
Eric was grinning from ear to ear at the discovery that it was a girl
and I thought I may have seen his eyes glisten with a tear or two. As
with the other five (not the twins) I requested to cut the umbilical
cord but then was happy to have them whisk the baby away.
After the last stitch I asked to hold my little Eve. It was then that
something unusual started to happen. I started to shake, again.
Slowly at first and then more and more and more! I was nursing Eve at
the time and when the shaking became so violent that I was afraid it
would hurt her I passed her off to Eric. The shaking continued in
this intensity for over an hour. I simply couldn't stop. At moments
I could will myself to stop shaking certain parts like my legs only to
have my top half flail wildly. It was brutal. My jaw especially
started to ache and there was no way to stop the shaking unless I
would bite down on something. I was literally shaking from head to
toe. The nurses were baffled. At one point I asked Eric to lay on
top of me so that his weight would hold me down and ease the pain from
the shaking. It was all so strange.
When the shaking FINALLY stopped I fell into a feverish sleep. Eric
sat next to me holding Eve, watching the news, and later sharing our
good news with family. After sleeping for a couple of hours they came
in to check my temperature. I was 104. They were concerned but I was
in heaven all warm and toasty and not a bit shaky. They asked if I
wanted to go to Mother Baby and I requested more sleep. I slept for
three or so more hours. It felt so good to let my body just rest and
I knew that Eve was in good hands.
Eric went home seconds after they moved me into my new room. The poor
man looked absolutely exhausted. On his way home I texted our dear
friend and neighbor Lucy and she happily took the youngest Bacons for
a morning playdate so Eric could sleep in peace. I continued to dose
on and off for the next few hours. The OB doc who visited as well as
the Pediatrician both agreed that I could go home that evening so I
could celebrate Christmas with my family. There are some perks to
having a large family and I think they both felt confident that I
knew, or would figure out, what I was doing.
Eve came out looking just like her brothers, especially Warner,
Talmage, and Holland. I think if it wasn't for the pink she could
easily be mistaken for one of them. She had a crooked little nose and
alert eyes. Eric thinks her hair is going to be orange, I'm not so
sure. Unfortunately, I think she may be our baldest Bacon baby. At
delivery the nurse had to remove the chord that was wrapped around her
neck. She weighed in a 8.3 lbs. and measured 21 inches with the
longest fingers and the scrawniest legs I've ever seen. She's a bit
of heaven and it only took me less than a moment to give up my whole
heart to this little one.
