May 2, 2003

I know his bday is May 3rd, but I will ALWAYS remember the events of May 2nd. When we left for church this morning, (which was around 9:15am) I couldn't help but think about what this very day was like, 7 years ago. I had already gone to the hospital because I'd been having contractions 3-5 minutes apart since 6pm the night before (May 1st), and I was to the point where I couldn't just "wait them out" anymore because I was so uncomfortable. (and of course I was exhausted because I hadn't slept a wink all night). But, at 7:30am when I was admitted into the hospital, the nurse checked me and I was told that I was NOT even dialated to a 1. So they gave me 2 sleeping pills and sent me home, and told me to continue to "wait it out" at home. I was not happy... but what could I do? Well, 2 hours later... around 9:30, I went back to the hospital because I'd HAD IT! The contractions were coming every 2-3 minutes and were intensifying... and the worst part was I felt drugged (but not in a "relieving of my pain" kind of way). So, they admitted me again, and this time let me stay because I was FINALLY dialated to almost a 2. I had to endure contractions for another 6 hours before they'd give me my epidural (because they wanted me to be atleast a 4 before they'd give it to me). So, by 3:30 I was able to relax a bit (and I say a bit because the epidural didn't fully work. I was still able to feel the contractions, but they became more of a bad "period cramp" instead of the "intense, I can't breathe and I'd rather die right now" cramp. Another 6 hours went by, and I'd only progressed to a 6. So at 9:30pm they broke my water. (at this point I'm so tired it's even beyond description) I'd been in labor for over 24 hours. They checked me again at 10:30pm and I was an 8, at 11:30pm a 9. Right around this point, my epidural stopped working, but I was told it was too close to the end to do anything about it. So I had to endure the intense pain of contractions for another 30 minutes before I FINALLY was a 10 and ready to push. And what a relief that was... when I was pushing, I couldn't feel the contractions! Well, I pushed, and I pushed, and I pushed some more... and Cristian was slowly emerging. It was taking so long because his head was not coming out the right way. (instead of coming out with the back of his head up, he had his head turned to the side. So with every push, they were trying to rotate him the correct way. Around 1:00am (now May 3rd) his heart rate started to drop. They had me roll to my side and try and push that way. But there was no improvement and his little heart rate continued to drop. (turns out the poor guy had wrapped the cord around his neck several times, and as they were trying to rotate his head, the cord basically started strangling him). At approximately 1:15 am his heart rate stopped showing up on their monitors. They weren't sure if the cork screw looking thing they had stuck in his head had fallen off, or if he was rapidly declining. So, next thing I know, the nurse pushes Cristian back up into my uterus and holds him up there telling me "whatever you do, DON'T PUSH" Well, anyone who has been in labor knows that fighting the urge to push is like telling someone not to cough when they are sick. Your body just naturally does it... so fighting it was extremely difficult and insanely painful. I was rushed to the operating room, strapped to a table, and put under general anesthesia not knowing how my little baby was. When he was born, he was as blue as a smurf and not making any noise. His APGAR score was a 1 (out of 10 for those who aren't familiar) which means he was BARELY alive. But thank goodness for doctors, nurses, and the power of Pray! Our little boy survived and rebounded quickly. (I wish I could say the same for myself, but I too survived :) So, there you have it... 32 hours of labor and an emergency c-section later, I was finally holding my baby boy! And now you understand why May 2nd stands out in my mind just as much as May 3rd.