They're Here!/Birth Story/3 Days Old

Well, apparently that bad mood I was experiencing on Tuesday WAS an insane surge of hormones... leading to labor!

*Disclaimer: if you don't want to know the gory details, skip this part! Because some are gooory :)

I went to bed before 9 on Tuesday night, following my super duper bad mood post. In the middle of the night (4:30am), I felt the gush... and unlike when it happened with Maya and I thought I peed the bed, I knew exactly what happened. I tapped Patrick on the shoulder, told him that my water broke, and he shot up in bed and was awake... I rolled over (and I RANDOMLY had a regular pad on that night-just because we were out of liners in that bathroom, and I had to wear them because of my plug loss, so all the initial gush was absorbed by that-definitely wouldn't have been that way with liners!) and made it out of the bed and into the (linoleum floor!) bathroom before it started splashing all over. I made it into the shower and just kind of stood there while it ran like a hose... I had Patrick grab my phone so I could call my (amazing!!) neighbor Lauren to tell her it was time. (Ironically, she had just been lying there awake, and she didn't know why.) I insisted on taking a shower because I felt disgusting and had amniotic fluid all over. I hurried as much as I could, but my contractions started about when I got out of the shower so I'd have to slow here and there... we finished packing the last minute stuff in our bags, Patrick woke Maya up and told her the babies were coming (she was THRILLED) and we headed out.

When we got to the hospital it was about 5:30. In the parking lot I had another massive gush that soaked my shorts and made my flip flops super slippery. My contractions had gone to about 5 minutes apart-I had 2 or 3 just on the drive to the hospital, and had one in the parking lot that I couldn't walk through. We got in there and thankfully (THANKFULLY!) Patrick had called ahead while I was in the shower and told them that we were coming in-so they were waiting with my chart, and waiting with the water breaking paper and just did a quick swipe with me standing in the bathroom and skipped a whole lot of steps of being admitted to antepartum, yadda yadda (which probably bought us some very very precious time). I walked on into the labor room and we got the long, stupid, ridiculous process started.

Funny conversation when we got there, as we were testing my water and stuff-when I walked up I asked who was on duty that night to deliver, and she said Dr. B-one of the two who would deliver him breech-was on. I already knew the answer, but asked anyway, when the shift change was-7am. I asked who was on next, and it was one of the doctors who would do the c-section if he didn't flip... and I said well lets hope we can get them out by 7, and we all had a good laugh. But I was nervous.

So I got changed into my hospital gown and they had me shove a towel between my legs because water was still gushing here and there. They checked me and I was at a 5 and I forget how effaced, Patrick is pretty sure it was 100% though. I warned them that with Maya I went from a 4 to a 10 in an hour.

The admission process was insane. We just had to literally sit there and wait until I was technically admitted into the hospital-they couldn't do a thing until then. The contractions started picking up.

Finally like a half hour or more later I was admitted, and then we had to start the consent process. RIDICULOUS. I don't know why I couldn't have consented to half of this stuff beforehand. They'd have to read me the paperwork/give me the gist of it, and then some of it I had to do times two because of the twins. And then I'd have to sign. By the end, all my "signature" was was a few scribbles, because my contractions were coming about 20-30 seconds apart and were very intense-way more intense than pitocin ones with Maya.

After I signed my life away I had to have bloodwork done. At this point, since I knew I was getting an epidural (I said no initially, but if we had to go to a c-section I'd have to be put completely under and Patrick would have to leave the OR-so in that case I chose the epidural because I didn't want him going anywhere) I just wanted the thing because it was just SO intense.

Then the anesthesiologist came in. I told him that I didn't have faith in an epidural. He told me he'd prove me wrong. I was checked and was at a 7. The nurses tried to sit me up for the epidural and get me in position, but I literally could NOT-I was in so much pain-they were kind of getting mean and told me I HAD to, and I just made noises and said I couldn't-but realized that the towel in between my legs might have something to do with it. So I told them that, it was removed, and sure thing, I could sit up. Epidural was then administered and life was good pretty much right away. Dr. B checked me immediately, and we were shocked that I was at a 10 and her head was right there (probably why it hurt so bad to sit up for the epidural-her head pressure was basically pushing up against that towel!) ...time to fly.

They were moving then. I was having the urge to push. They were telling me to breathe through the urges as they wheeled me into the delivery OR-and then somehow I had to try to get on the stinking OR table (at this point I'm just thinking are you for REAL-she's going to fall out) I look around, doctors and nurses are saying hi and are introducing themselves, and then all of a sudden I see Dr. D, who is the other doctor who would deliver breech. I asked if Patrick could hurry up and get in there (I was really worried that he'd miss the delivery) and he did. I don't know how many pushes it took to get her out but it wasn't many at all. Ava Elizabeth was born at 7:07am, weighing 5lbs5oz and 17 1/2 inches long.

Since the pressure of needing to push had been fulfilled, I could have gone to sleep. We needed to get him out though. The doctor reached in and broke his water and then started to fish around in there. Yes, fish around. He was in there pulling down on him... I don't know anything about the logistics of it but there was a lot of pressure and it just felt really weird. Then it was time to start pushing him out, once he was in position-I was getting really tired really fast, so it wasn't as easy as her. He hurt a lot more coming out as he was completely frank breech (came out peeing and pooping they said!) AND the doctor's hand was in there trying to guide him out. Finally it was over, it took a little longer for him to cry which really worried Patrick. But he was ok. Patrick Neill was born at 7:20am, weighing 6lbs even and 18 inches long.

I was kind of in a quiet, happy haze after it was all done. Patrick went to go see the babies (they had gone immediately to the nursery) and I was being stitched up (1st degree tear, no biggie) and I was just kind of in a non-pregnant they're here glow.

It wasn't until we were transferred to our postpartum room that we found out there were going to be some issues. Ava was completely fine and was going to be with us shortly but Patrick was having breathing issues-it was just really hard for him-they call it "wimpy white boy syndrome", as in the hierarchy of preemie babies with lung issues white boys are most likely at risk (RDS, respiratory distress syndrome-is what his official diagnosis ended up being and the technical term for it). He was going to be monitored for awhile before they made a final decision on what to do, and finally after a couple of hours they decided to transfer him to Charleston where he could be on the more appropriate vents for what was needed.

We got to see him for a few minutes before he was gone. Right before they flighted him out they brought him in to say goodbye-he was in a massive incubator on wheels, sedated, and intubated. It was SO hard to see.

We've been able to bond a lot with Ava, and it feels completely unfair that he's not here... but he has a heck of a story, he was the first of any of us to ever take a helicopter ride :) He's done great in the NICU there-by Thursday morning he was on 21% oxygen (room level) on CPAP, and had no residuals from his feed... Patrick went up to see him and was able to hold him and spend some time with him, which I am SO glad for. Friday morning he was on room air and had a bottle (vs his feeding tube) and Saturday morning (this morning) he was considered to be a "feeder and grower". The news is that hopefully he'll be able to come home tomorrow, as long as he feeds well tonight! We'll hear either way sometime tomorrow-and you can better believe we'll be showered, ready, and waiting just in case! We won't be having any visitors come over for the next week or so so that we can work on bonding time with him-I'm ready to be completely selfish :)

Ava is a complete sweetheart. Now that we have a feeding schedule kind of down, she basically eats and sleeps which is no surprise at all (and last night we actually had a great night of sleep-yay!). We are having to supplement a bit because at discharge her weight was down to 5 pounds, but my milk came in today so hopefully we won't have to do that for long. We are completely in love with her and can't wait until she and her brother are reunited!

Pictures to come tomorrow :)