For Bunny or For Worse: Sons' Arrival

On Friday August 5th, 2016, after 37 weeks and 2 days of marinating, at 12:45 pm, our son Jack Elwood (Baby "A") was born. His brother Henry Reuben (Baby "B") followed him at 1:12 pm. Jack was 5 lb 10 oz and 18.5 inches long. Henry was 5 lbs 8 oz and 19.25 inches long.

My account of the birth follows for those who are interested in that sort of thing. I recommend skimming for pictures and skipping further reading if you're squeamish or just want to avoid TMI.

I went in for a routine non-stress test (where the babies' heart rates and my uterine contractions were monitored) and had some labwork done on the afternoon of Monday, August 1st. My OB sent me (after I, in a state of mild panic, retrieved Steve from work) over to the maternity center for more testing related to my rising blood pressure and abnormal bloodwork related to my liver (possible warning signs of preeclampsia). The OB on call ultimately decided to release me in time to have dinner with visiting relatives. Given that adventure, I shouldn't have been surprised if I also needed additional testing after my Wednesday, August 3rd routine non-stress test and growth ultrasound. I was, however, blindsided when my OB not only sent us to the maternity center but instructed us to check in; I was at risk of becoming preeclamptic and those babies needed to come out soon.

We got checked in to the Sutter Maternity and Surgery Center in Santa Cruz on August 3rd in the early evening. I was having contractions but was not in labor. Overnight on the 3rd, the boys and I were monitored. The growth ultrasound earlier that day had shown that Henry (who in all previous scans had been head-down and ready for delivery like his brother) was now transverse. He later shifted into a breech position. The OB on call was leaning c-section and I spent a long night being monitored and coming to terms with that outcome. I had of course known it was a possibility but I was really hoping for a vaginal delivery to shorten my recovery time and enable me to help more with the new arrivals. I was scared at the prospect of surgery and unable to sleep.

As the sun rose on the 4th, I felt I had finally resigned myself to the c-section. I was still scared, but relatively calm. Then my OB (Dr. B), who I absolutely adore, burst excitedly into the room, followed by the new OB on call (Dr. O) and a couple nurses. In her wonderful no-nonsense way, Dr. B said the babies needed to come out, but the staff was ready and prepared to do a breech extraction on Henry if necessary and it was time to get the ball rolling to try to get me the vaginal delivery I was seeking. I was started on Pitocin to induce labor at 10 am on the 4th.

Me on Pitocin (doesn't it look like I'm having fun?):

The Pitocin dose was slowly stepped up during the day and night on the 4th. In the middle of the night, Dr. O manually broke Jack's amniotic sack to speed things along (Dr. O was incredibly gracious about my panicked response to her telling me what she was about to do... and oh boy was it painful). With the potential for a breech extraction, an epidural was pretty much mandatory, but my goal was to put it off as long as possible to prevent labor from stalling. Once the IV hit 22 milliunits (they had to keep overriding the 20 milliunit cap on the drip - I guess I needed a little extra oomph to get where we needed to go), in the early morning hours of the 5th, I asked for the epidural, and enjoyed the numbing sensation as it crept up my legs; never mind the contractions, it was the first time in months that my legs, feet and joints didn't hurt.

I try to put on my "I am brave and calm" face... impressive, right?:

Steve can still make me laugh (which was a mixed blessing since it hurt to do so):

Things were a bit of a blur but, once I was fully dilated, I was wheeled into the operating room (a precaution in case an emergency c-section was needed). In a stroke of good fortune, Dr. B happened to now be on call and she assembled the team to do the delivery herself. A couple nurses and Dr. O stayed on after their shifts ended to assist. A lot of the nurses we worked with seemed to have taken a shine to me and Steve, and I suspect attempted vaginal twin births are probably somewhat interesting in their relative rarity.

Dr. B had the anesthesiologist turn down my epidural drip so that I could feel to push more effectively; I was going to need to work hard to get both boys out. I tried my best to follow the instructions given by the doctors and nurses to improve my technique as things went along. The pain was... let's just say "unreal." Steve gently stroked my hair and rubbed my shoulders. After pushing for an hour, Jack was out.

Steve cut Jack's cord, Jack got cleaned up and handed to Steve, and I was able to steal a glance at them. That memory of Steve holding his firstborn son for the very first time is a real bright spot for me in an otherwise difficult (to say the least) experience.

During this time, the nurses busily pushed on my stomach, successfully assisting Henry in turning head down to begin his exit. Everything was done calmly and smoothly; clearly there had been some discussion ahead of time about everybody's role.

Seeing that my strength was failing, Dr. B had the tools prepared to assist Henry. With great difficulty (I was absolutely beyond spent), I managed over the next half hour to push him far enough for Dr. B to perform a vacuum extraction. His heart rate was dipping a bit, but Dr. B managed to swiftly get him out with the only sign of the procedure being a barely visible bruise on his head which healed quickly. While holding Jack in one arm, Steve cut Henry's cord, officially beginning his new reality of juggling two kids at a time.

Dr. B sewed up my second degree tear with what looked to me to be a fishhook (which was a fun sensation). When I asked her how many stitches she'd done, she said "oh, just the one thread." Doctor humor. She eventually admitted it had been 10 stitches total.

I was, I think, in shock as I was wheeled back to my thankfully private room. Steve carried Jack and Henry was wheeled in by the nurses as I was in no condition to hold him.

Steve, still in OR scrubs, holding brand-new Jack:

Newborn Henry contemplates his existence:

Newborn Jack looks... somewhat disapproving? Hard to say:

The following days were a haze. Steve learned how to care for the boys from the wonderful nurses who looked after us all while I was held for observation (due to residual high blood pressure, that continuing abnormal liver, and pain) over the following four days. We were so lucky; the boys' health was perfect. Not even jaundiced. They were ready for discharge before I was.

Steve sleeping with Henry in our room at the maternity center:

Me, making my best attempt at a smile, Henry snuggled up against me and Jack already working his hands free of his blanket:

I felt at the same time like a tremendous weight had been lifted (which it certainly had - by my one week postpartum checkup I'd lost 23 of the 37 lbs I'd gained during the pregnancy, and at two weeks I'm now within 10 lbs of my pre-pregnancy weight) and that in its place had settled a great deal of pain and soreness. The back pain I was left with is something I was completely unprepared for, and has been really difficult to recover from. I'm slowly doing better, but it's still an everyday challenge. I am grateful, however, that the boys are robust; hopefully I will be again someday soon.

Jack ready for his first car ride, home from the hospital: