Stats:
Born 11-FEB-2007 @ 12.52p
San Francisco, CA
7lb 14 oz
21 inches
Ok, I'm finally getting around to telling the story of Samantha's birth. First off, I'll say all those cliches about parenthood are pretty much true. Not much sleep is probably the biggest challenge so far. Fortunately for me I do not require much sleep, unfortunately for my wife, she requires more. Not much time for yourself is another biggie. Take showers, for instance. Appreciate the time alone in the shower, for it is yours and yours alone. Actually, I can't even say that anymore. We're now in the habit of putting Samantha in the shower with me at night. It's much easier than trying to hold her still in a little tub, and she loves it! Then there's the obvious fact that Samantha is 8 weeks old and I'm finally getting around to posting about her. What did I do with all that free time in my former life anyhow?
Flashback
Saturday, Feb 10th, dinnertime. There was a break in the storm so we decided we'd walk down to a local Thai restaurant for dinner. Stephanie had heard that spicy food was a good labor inducer, and even joked with our waitress about it. This turned out to be true, because not more than 20 minutes after we got home her water broke. It's a good thing it started to rain when we were leaving the restaurant and we jumped in a cab or else I think her water would have broken on the walk home.
"Honey my water just broke!" I heard her yell from her bathroom upstairs. Eyes getting heavy, I was just settling in on the computer to check the weather to see if we were going to have some fresh snow in Tahoe. I went upstairs to investigate and sure enough, there was a puddle under her feet. I've heard stories of women not knowing if their water broke or not, b
ut there was no mistaking this. I called the hospital conveniently located about about 150 paces from our house to ask what we should do. The nurse said gather up our stuff and come down in the next hour. She said there was a chance that they'd send us home depending on how far apart her contractions were. For some reason that was enough to give me hope that I'd still get in some turns in Tahoe the next day. I'm sure there's a clinical term for Denial in the Face of an Imminent Life Changing Event, but I don't know what it is.We always half-joked that we'd walk to the hospital when the time came. Now that the time had come, I was not about to suggest that. I'm rather fond of my head where it is. One of the key lessons I learned from a friend when I asked his advice about heading into labor was not to joke about anything. I like to think I am good at learning from other people's mistakes.
We arrived at the hospital at 9:30p and her contractions were getting stronger. They put us in the exam room and decided there'd be no going home to wait things out, so we were admitted into what turned out to be the premiere birth suite, which meant I don't know what--private bathroom maybe? It was actually quite large and comfortable, though it could have been a broom closet so long as it had the fentanyl drip.
Yes, watching Stephanie go under the influence of fentanyl made me feel like I was missing out on some great party. I felt a tinge of jealously--it was Saturday night afterall. Instant, dopey relief was hers. This was pretty early in the game still--about 12:30am.
We, or rather Stephanie, spent the next few hours riding out contractions and trying to rest in between. There wasn't much I could do besides keep the iPod rolling through mellow tracks. I definitely didn't yawn. I was reminded of another friend who made the mistake of yawning during labor which caused his wife to ask sarcastically, "what, this isn't f*cking exciting enough for you?!?!?"By 4am she was really starting to experience some serious pain, so we called for the epidural.
The anesthesiologist worked quickly and efficently, and I am glad I did not see all that was going on behind her back. From my vantage point across the room it looked like she was filleting a fish, but by 4:20a Stephanie was clearly much more comfortable. After the epidural kicked in, we were advised to get some rest before the real work started.
I awakened about 8:00a and figured I should get something to eat, so I went out for a breakfast buritto and some coffee. When I returned at 9:00a, it was time to go to work. They added pitocin to her IV drip to make the contractions more frequent and stronger, and the pushing officially began.
The last few months of pregnancy we watched many episodes of a Baby Story. This was good preparation for what to expect during labor and birth. Each episode profiled a family and filmed them before, during, and after the birth. It taught us that each birth really is different, so we knew what our options were if things didn't go according to plan. The one point they miss, which was glaringly obvious about 2 hours into pushing, is that pushing takes time--time which is hard to
capture in the space of a half hour show.For the longest time Stephanie would hear, "just a little harder, I can see her hair!" After about 3 hours of hearing that, and me holding one of her legs up and her head down, she got wise. Turns out Samantha was in a position known as "back labor" which means her head was down as planned but she was facing forward rather than backwards. This makes it much more difficult to have an unassisted birth because Samantha's brow was stuck on Stephanie's pubic bone. As the nurse put it afterwards, it's like adding a pound to the birthweight of your child. After being told to ride out several contractions to save energy for a few BIG pushes, she was physically exhausted and asked what other options we had. We agreed that a suction device should b
e used. Everything involves a certain amount of risk, and this procedure was no exception. The most common problem is severe bruising on the skull. We thought about it for 5 seconds and said we should go through with it, so the doctor produced a big suction cup with a pump on the end, attached it to the baby's head, pumped it tight and pulled hard like she was lacing up her hiking boots to climb Everest.....POP! it went and came flying off Samantha's head and the doctor lost her balance for a second, but she quickly regained her composure and gave it another try. This time--SUCCESS! What my wife described as feeling like a "gentle tug" looked like a tug of war with Andre the Giant from my perspective.And all of the sudden there she was, looking all blue and covered in white stuff with a big black hairy conehead. My daughter looked like a fuzzy blue Mayan! All that time being stuck in the birth canal really exaggerated the cone shape of her head. I couldn't believe it, there she was! BAM! POW! HELLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOO WORLD! Awesome, there's no way to describe it.
Fortunately her head did not bruise, and her skull quickly found its natural shape. I wish I would have been quicker with the camera because a picture of her just after birth would have been a great torture device later in her formative teenage years.
BAXTER likes her too!
