The following journal is more for me than anyone. As November 8th gets farther and farther away, I wanted to record as much as I can remember--for the sake of our family! Read on if you'd like. :-)
Friday, November 5: Went to school and felt okay… I vacuumed my classroom, secretly hoping that all the physical exertion might get things going. I came home and Michael and decided to get Chinese food, run to the mall, and head to Target to exchange a few things and purchase some items for baby. During dinner I was having contractions that were so far apart there was no pattern, They were painful when I had them but of course I thought nothing of it other than worry that I could be experiencing these contractions for weeks potentially. We came home and went to bed. Contractions didn’t keep me up.
Saturday, November 6: I resolved to make our bathroom floor impeccable by scrubbing, on hands and knees, and hoping that might also get things going. This was, obviously, quite the challenge considering my size. BUT I did it--and two weeks later, it needs to be scrubbed again. Somehow, this time around I lack the motivation to do it. I felt fine all day and mom and dad came over for dinner. We played a game of Spades which, on the list of the most enjoyable card games, ranks pretty low. I felt uncomfortable all night, especially when my contractions came—however infrequently. Went to bed and again, contractions didn’t keep me up.
Sunday, November 7: We woke up and headed to Uptown Christ Covenant to see Claire’s baptism. On the way and during the service, Michael and I timed my contractions as they were becoming more and more uncomfortable. They continued to be as far apart as 15 minutes with some coming more frequently. As I had a contraction, Michael would chart the time. I remember it being difficult to concentrate during church (for obvious reasons). We went to Rachel and Eric’s house for lunch. Eric’s family was also there and I didn’t do much of anything except sit around. By this time the contractions had begun to wrap around to my lower back but I still didn’t think much of them because they weren’t close together. We came home on Sunday evening and I did a few things in the way of preparing for school the next day. We began timing my contractions again when we went to bed around 9 and many of them were 4-5 minutes apart. Michael began questioning whether or not we should go to the hospital and I resisted. We tried to go to sleep around 10 and for about an hour, my contractions were waking me up every 10 minutes. At 11 I finally called my mom and asked for her advice. She, like Michael, agreed that we should go to the hospital. I reluctantly agreed and we packed our things. Little did we know with what finality we would be leaving our house. I packed with the knowledge that we would probably be sent home again, but also hoping that wouldn’t be the case. We arrived at Northeast Triage around 11:30, registered and walked back to the triage room. The nurse hooked me up to the fetal monitor and asked us a series of questions. Meanwhile, my contractions didn’t feel too intense and I began to wonder whether I had just psyched myself out! As the nurse was leaving, she commented that my contractions were 1-3 minutes apart. Of course I was floored since I was only feeling pain every 10-15 minutes. The doctor on call was busy so the nurse checked me and said I was 4 cm and that I would be admitted. This was perhaps the most surreal of all feelings, knowing that we were there for good. When we left, we would have a son. We waited for about 45 minutes until a room became available. Meanwhile, my contractions were becoming more and more painful and within 20 minutes, the anesthesiologist arrived to administer my epidural. I remember shaking with nerves and coming to grips with the fact that this was actually happening. In reality, the epidural wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be—only stinging from the local anesthetic and a lot of pressure.
Monday, November 8: My contractions slowed once I had the epidural so at 4 or 5am, Dr. Panner broke my water and started me on pitocin. Lydia and Karl came in the dead of night to sit with us—I will never forget it! At around 8:30, Dr. Barefoot arrived to check on my progress. MUCH to my surprise, he said I was at 10 cm and ready to push. Once all the preparations had been made, I started pushing (around 9am), and by 10:30 we had a son!
The epidural was completely effective, and thankfully it began to wear off enough towards the end that I was able to feel mild cramping when a contraction came, which signaled to me that it was time to push. Michael was the most incredible coach. When Eli was born, I can’t even begin to describe the overwhelming flood of emotions that I felt. Awe, wonder, love, and relief when he immediately began screaming…We were so thankful that he was healthy and that we *finally* got to meet him. He was 7lbs 7oz and 20 ½ inches long and absolutely beautiful. This entire day continues to be a sort of blur since we had gotten no sleep the night before in anticipation of meeting Elijah. We were moved up to a recovery room and had visitors all throughout the day. It all seemed like a huge whirlwind since we had not really expected him to be here until Thanksgiving.
On Wednesday morning, our nurse commented that she had noticed a bit of jaundice so they had decided to draw his blood to test his bilirubin levels (note: bilirubin is now a curse word in our house. I will enforce this.) His levels came back at 11, which the pediatrician thought was a bit high but decided to send us home and return to the office on Thursday to follow up. We were released and arrived home around 5. Exhausted, we spent the first night getting used to Eli’s presence in the house. He slept in a bassinet in our bedroom while we got little sleep.
On Thursday we saw the pediatrician and Eli weighed 6lbs 9oz. At that point, Dr. Samuel encouraged us to begin supplementing his feedings with formula until he gained back his birth weight. She also said they would call us with his newest bili levels. We came home, confident that his levels would be lower and we would just need to follow up in a few days. She called back around 3pm and told us his levels were at 19, which meant they would need to readmit him to the hospital to put him under the phototherapy lights until his levels were normal. Of course I was devastated and continued to be until Saturday when they released him.
These three days were by far the most difficult three days I’ve ever had to experience. Little Eli had to lay under the lights in nothing but a diaper and protective eyewear which proved to be quite a nuisance for both him and us. He screamed bloody murder the first day, we constantly checked his blinders to make sure they were secured. After Eli broke one pair of his blinders, the nurses had to create their own set of eyewear that would hopefully stay put. Every 6 hours, the nurses pricked his little heel to check his levels. They crept down at a snail’s pace and when we thought we’d leave on Friday, his levels were still too high. On Saturday morning at 2am, his levels were low enough to remove him from the lights and monitor him to ensure that he didn’t rebound. Six hours later they checked him again and his bili levels had gone up from 12.2 to 14.6. Dr. Smith (pediatrician at the hospital) told us they would check him again at 2pm and if his levels were 14.6 or below, they would release us. Again, the next six hours crept by and finally the nurse came to tell us his levels were in the 13’s. YAY! We were released (for the second time) and began settling in at home (for the second time).
The Lord surely sustained us during this time. Recalling those three days is almost nightmarish for me as we could do nothing to help him get better. His little body had to dispel the jaundice on its own and nothing we did could help. Again, Michael was an incredible source of strength for me—I feel a bit like I learned a new way to love him during this whole experience.
We’ve been back to the doctor since Eli’s birth and his levels are low enough that we don’t have to go back until his one month checkup. We’re loving his presence in the house and learning to adapt to this whole new lifestyle of parenting. Nursing has been going well, too, which was a source of concern for me when we were told to give him exclusively formula while he was under the bili lights. Once we came home I was allowed to begin nursing again, and it’s been wonderful. He’s a sweet, sweet boy and God has been abundantly good to us. Two weeks into this whole thing, I’ve already begun to forget the whole pregnancy—not that I want to do it again any time soon! We’re thankful for the prayers, the meals, the gifts, and the love that so many of you have poured out on us. Thank you!
Cousin tummy time! :)
