Trying to piece it together: the arrival of Saffi Ann

I kept opening this page and staring blankly at the screen. The words just would not come. I could prattle on endlessly about the kids, about how Saffi has just fallen right into our family rhythm without us skipping a beat but I have been tearfully struggling to piece together her birth story.

My best guess as to why is that I am still in shock.

The third trimester was anything but peaceful. First I was hospitalized with the flu, then I was told her growth curve dropped sharply and that I had too much fluid (both most likely a direct result from having pig flu). Before I could even begin to absorb the last two bits of news, I sat down, put my feet up (as ordered) and POP! my water broke at 33 weeks and 6 days gestation.

I should have seen it coming. I had been complaining about feeling “off” for two days prior and I know my body- it was talking to me and I was stubbornly not listening.

The volume of fluid that poured out of me as I darted across the house to the bathroom was staggering. The Hubster started rushing around, dressing kids and shoving stuff into bags. My bag was ready but I had not packed anything for the kids. Dinner was pulled from the oven, wrapped in towels and hucked into the car so the kids’ Auntie would have something to feed them. I stuck a diaper in my pants and did my best to help get us out the door.

At this point we were PANICKED. Bo’s labor was only 5 hours long and I did not realize it was actually REAL labor for the first 3 of that. With Bo, my water broke and less then 5 minutes later he was laying, stunned, on the end of the hospital bed. We both felt that any moment the baby might just decide to walk right out and the hospital is not exactly around the corner from our house.

I was not having contractions so much as constant waves of cramps with no determinable beginning or end. The most notable aspect was the fact that it felt like someone was shoving an icepick into my left hipbone. Sitting upright in the car was horribly unpleasant and I just about got out and walked when we found ourselves stuck in gridlock after having dropped the kids with family. As we sat there staring at brake lights, the cramping broke up into contractions… very slow and spaced contractions.

And here is where I get stuck. I checked into triage, they took me back immediately and moved me upstairs to a labor suite. Giving my history of shorter labors with the last 3 kids (5hours, 7 hours, and 5 hours), they prepped the baby things, pushed in a delivery supply cart and I stalled. I was dilated 3 – 4 and 70% effaced but the baby was up in my ribs and my contractions petered out. I was given a steroid shot to help mature the baby’s lungs; then for the next 4 hours I rested between contractions and waited for midnight to come. The hospital wanted me to technically be 34 weeks before they augmented my labor with the evil that is pitocin.

Here’s the part of the story I have trouble telling…. I start thinking about the next 19 hours and feel sad, panicky, and tired. I can still feel the ache of my body as it rode the contractions, which grew tougher and harder as the pit was cranked higher. As time went on and I found myself stuck at 6 and 7 for several hours, I had to endure “the talk” You know, the one about having a Csection and the debate over whether I could get an epidural or would have to be knocked out due to the blood thinners I take and I sobbed. Then, I found out that the doctor who had been so patient with me, riding out all this non progress and telling me that it was not a big deal, that we had time was going off shift and the one doctor in the practice whom I hate and do not trust was coming on duty and that with my water having been broken for nearly 24 hours I was on a tight time line and this man might have to cut me open- I had a holy motherfucking breakdown. My L&D nurse felt so badly that she promised me we’d be having a baby before she left my side- true to her word, nurse Amee stayed past her shift to see me deliver.

For hours I rocked side to side on my feet, I rocked front to back on my knees, I bounced on a birthing ball, I laid on my left and then my right. I moaned and growled through contractions and something different happened- I started talking to the baby, calling her by name “Come on Saffi, Mama needs you to move down. Come on Saffi” The Hubster and I just knew it was destined to be her name, unusual since we’ve never named a baby we had not laid eyes on.

The Hubster was my rock in all of this. Cool, levelheaded and supportive. He held my hand when I needed it, caught me when the contractions would buckle my knees, wiped away my tears, and brushed my hair to calm me when I got flat out hysterical.

When I dilated to 9 I started doing little grunting pushes with the contractions. It wasn’t intentional but as I did it, I could feel Saffi moving lower. The nurse, at this point, had me flat on my back, hoping that the lip of cervix still left at the top would go away. It felt like Saffi was stuck just under my pelvic “sit bones” and I could do nothing but thrash and scream at the top of my lungs. At one point, just before I pushed for real I let out a scream so animalistic and beastly that the entire room froze (3 nurses, 2 NICU staff, & the regular baby wranglers). Truthfully, I remember this time with much embarrassment. I was so tired, hungry, and overwrought that I completely lost control of my senses.

The nurse who had just come on duty was trying to take charge of the situation but nurse Amee was refusing to leave until I delivered. The new nurse stood at my side smashing the fetal heart tones monitor against my lower abdomen in such a way that it felt like she was holding the baby back from making her entrance. I can remember rearing up off the bed and yelling at her to stop touching me when I suddenly had to push. There was no counting, no breaking the bed down I.just.pushed. “I can see her head, Erin!” The Hubster said in my ear and upon hearing that I stopped thinking about the pain, the people, the upset and kept pushing. I pushed 3 times during 1 contraction and there was Saffi with the cord around her neck and twisted all over her body. Nurse Amee welcomed her into the world and that doctor I hate? He walked in a minute later, looked me over and went back to the OR to finish up a Csection.

Who the hell would have thought that my 5th baby would be one of my more challenging births? I have no idea how I survived 19 hours of pitocin with no medicinal pain relief. I clearly remember sometime around hour 20 of labor telling The Hubster that he owed me at least one more baby after this- one that would walk out the right way nice and easy.

She was totally worth it though