Through the Birthing Glass

In the days following the birth we skipped backward and forward through our experiences, but as yet, we still haven’t posted about those early hours when our sons were making their way into this world through their own rather small doorway.* My own memories of that transition are undoubtedly colored by the drugs they gave me afterward to keep me from having seizures from the preeclampsia – the same drugs that apparently led to me leaving some very bizarre and incoherent messages on a few answering machines.

To set the scene:

I honestly don’t remember much about what I did on Saturday, July 31st. I would guess that I ate, napped, tested my glucose levels, and watched some shows with Puck. I remember that by my last two meals of the day (because people with gestational diabetes have to eat like hobbits – second breakfasts, elevensies, and all that) I could barely force myself to eat because I just wasn’t very hungry.

I was in the house on the couch a lot because moving around had been getting increasingly difficult and tiring, and I decided I wanted to go on Shakti’s evening walk. (I often felt better after taking Shakti for a walk.) We finally all agreed that Puck and I would walk down to the end of the street. Then, we would turn back while Grandma and Shakti continued on their jaunt. Puck took a little stool for me, so I could stop and rest. We mosied slowly down the street, and on the way back we stopped a couple of times so I could sit – once to talk to one of our neighbors. Grandma made it around the block before we finished our stroll back to the house. I was definitely turning more and more into the tortoise, though I had told the boys repeatedly that we were trying for at least 36 weeks.

Some time that evening, I waddled down the hall to bed. Around 3:15, I woke to the calls of my bladder, and Shakti decided she needed a trip outside to do her business too. I ran into my mom in the living room, and we chatted very briefly before I headed back to bed and fell straight back to sleep.

At around 3:34, I woke again, looked at the clock and groggily debated just how much I needed to make another trip to the restroom and if it was worth the effort of pushing myself up and scooting off the bed. Puck and Shakti were both sound asleep. Suddenly, liquid simply poured out of me and soaked my legs and the sheet. My eyes popped wide, and I thought, ‘please, let it be water,’ which seemed much better than the alternatives.

Still in shock myself, I loudly called, “Puck! Puck! I think my water broke!”

When Puck first heard his name, he sleepily thought I was getting him up to take the dog out, but when the last sentence came out, he hopped out of bed and ran over to me.

Our first goal was to get me to the bathroom without having my water soak the carpet, so Puck dashed into the hallway for towels to make an impromptu mommy-diaper. We hurried me over to the toilet, and then we had to figure out what to do next: Wake up Grandma. Call our birthing center. Pack those last few items that you can’t put in your bag until you’re headed out the door.

The next hour was a flurry of activity during which I mostly sat in the bathroom and had very little to do. I called the Davis birthing center, and then waited for them to call us back. The Ob/Gyn on call told me that I had some choices. Since we were just barely past 34 weeks (34 weeks 4 days), we could deliver either at the birthing center or go to Sutter Memorial Hospital in Sacramento. However, if our boys needed more specialized care, they would be sent to the hospital after delivery while I would be stuck at the birthing center until I was released. At the hospital one of our Perinators would be on call and would deliver our boys. So…we opted to go straight to Sutter Memorial.

Now, the real scurry began as Grandma and Puck finished dressing, packing, and putting things in the car. I occasionally called out something that I would want packed in my bag. But the real question was how to get this leaky mom-to-be from the bathroom to the hospital without gushing water everywhere. Grandma devised a plan for a more advanced diaper system using two towels and a waterproof underpad with my large black pregnancy pants pulled on over it all. I must have looked absolutely hilarious, but our new and improved mommy-diaper got me all the way into the car without even soaking my pants.

After a 20-minute drive with Mom following close behind us, we arrived at the emergency entrance of Sutter Memorial around 5 or 5:30 in the morning. Puck hopped out of the car, grabbed a wheelchair, and came around to help me out of the middle-row passenger seat (to avoid those pesky airbags while pregnant). As soon as I stepped out of the car, my mommy-diaper sprung a leak, and I plopped into the wheelchair. After we went through the doors, the staff directed us on a rather long and circuitous route to the maternity and delivery area, and away we went down the hallway.

Outside, Grandma Myrtle was parked behind our minivan in the drop-off area, and she had seen Puck whisk me into the hospital…leaving the minivan running, unlocked and with the doors ajar. Getting Mom and babies to the nurses and doctors had been his first priority, and we had not realized we would be going on such an extensive journey to get there. Fortunately, Grandma was there to first park our minivan and then hers before tracking us down in the hospital.

The next hour or so was a blur of waiting and activity. I was quickly derobed, clothed in a lovely hospital gown and put on a bed to wait with Puck and Grandma Myrtle at my side. In no time, I soaked the sheets from my shoulders to my toes. When we brought this to the nurses’ attention, they seemed surprised but quickly changed the sheets right under me. Monitors were placed on my belly for each of the boys and constantly adjusted as the boys moved around. They checked my blood pressure and took my blood. I felt extremely parched and had since my water broke, but I had avoided drinking anything because I might be doing a C-section.

When the Perinator (the perinatologist) arrived, she outlined our options for us. Alexander (Baby B) looked like he would be breech, but they still gave us the option of a C-section (safer for the boys) or a regular delivery (a bit safer for me). After a brief discussion, we gave the go-ahead for surgery, and a flurry of activity occurred – navy scrubs for Grandma Myrtle and Dad, then Mom moved to a gurney and rolled into the operating room for her spinal. Finally, we were all in the operating room together, and I was sufficiently numb.

A blue sheet blocked my view of the belly, Grandma Myrtle had the camera ready (though we had told her we didn’t want photos of the birth itself), and Dad was right by my side to hold my hand. The delivery itself was a blur of anticipation. As they got ready to pull Dominic from my womb, I changed my mind and asked Mom to go ahead and take photos, and the Twin-Daddy poked his head over the sheet-shield to see our son Dominic pulled into the world (graphic photo). He was whisked away to be poked and prodded. When Alexander came next, there was both silence and activity, and he disappeared from the room without me seeing his still, blue form. Grandma followed Alexander for us, and they had him breathing again in seconds. Still, the worry takes your breath away, and then the joy of having two little sons fills the world.

Dominic with Mom and Dad

Alexander with Mom and Dad

*This post was started on August 5, 2010, and I finished it and added photos on February 26, 2011. I have decided to post it with date of August 5th.