Fun times in the Delivery Room February 8, 2007

Wow – I had my best day ever on WordPress yesterday!  Thanks for all the comments and referrals to my marriage post.  It’s so nice to see that folks are still really interested in marriage. 

Today, I’m going to keep it shorter and funny.  We had dinner with some new friends tonight at the famous kids- eat- free at Fuddrucker’s night.  (My entire family of 6, with drinks and dessert, can eat for $15 – 23 depending on what we get – FULL meal for all 6 of us).  Somehow, we ended up telling pregnancy, labor, delivery stories.  After 4 kids, I have a truckload of those.  One in particular kind of cracked us all up, so I thought an appropriate post to follow-up on marriage is one about being a parent in the delivery room.  I also know from Tag Surfer that there are many, many expecting parents out there looking for camaraderie and guidance.  In that vein – here we go:

Luckily, my labors go very fast.   We had all 4 kids naturally and with the able help of Lamaze class and my dedicated and inspiring coach Daddy, Steve.  Because things have gone so well, getting ready to have a baby has been equated to something like planning a party for me.  I’m getting sibling gifts ready, preparing snacks, polishing toenails and the like all right before baby time. 

On baby #2, now known as Keely, age 8, I was up until 3am the night before I had her.  I was scheduled to have my water broken the next day, as I was dilating consistently without active labor.  In fact, I was already at 7 centimeters!  Everyone in my family was nervous, especially since labor #1, now known as Marlee, age 12, took only 1.5 hours.  Oh, there are so many fun stories to tell about this labor – this beginning is probably where my Keely got her spunk.  Tonight, however, I will confine to one story and make it as brief as possible (obviously not my forte).

With my history of precipitious (read:rapid) labor, I’m not sure what my doctor was thinking.  He broke my water, then left for lunch.  Good man, but clearly had too much on his mind that day.  I only had a few contractions after that and then needed to push.  We were blessed with the same awesome nurse for this delivery (actually for 3 of the 4) that totally supports natural childbirth.  When I told her I felt the urge to push, she said, “You’ve done this before and I’m sure you’re right.”  And then she immediately paged my Doctor. 

She said we could go ahead and push and he’d arrive in a few minutes.  I’m certain that she didn’t realize push #2 would almost deliver Keely’s head.  She kept her cool very nicely and put pressure on Keely’s head to hold her in a little longer.  She asked me to try not to push any more until the doc arrived.  Then, she started summoning other staff to “find a doctor!”  There was a bit of urgency in her voice.  Not pushing when you feel the urge = EASIER SAID THAN DONE! 

We had our Moms and my Sis in with us this time.  My Mom and Steve were on either side by my head.  My Step-Mom and Sis, Kara, were at the foot of the bed, kind of watching from afar, and Steve’s Mom was right beside him, helping hold my legs for pushing.  I didn’t realize Keely’s head was part way out, but hearing the discussion between Steve’s Mom and the nurse gave me some clues.

“What will you do if the doctor doesn’t get here soon?” asked Steve’s Mom. 

“I will deliver this baby” the nurse said with a calm confidence. 

Meanwhile, I’m trying to listen to the heartrate, check the monitor, interpret all the conversations, worry, and, oh yeah, NOT PUSH and TRY TO BREATHE!  My skilled labor coach came to the rescue.  This was his role – he was trained to intervene and help me focus when I might be otherwise unable.  As usual, he was dynamite.  He led me through the “Puah” breathe that is the standard for “I’m in real pain, here!”  It’s not the usual relaxing breathing that strives for a focal point and ultimate relief of pain.  This breath is the “Big Daddy” of lamaze and is just for making it through short-term agony. 

We “Puah’d” for what seemed like forever to me as I continue to hear things like: 

“Page him again!”

 ”Page him 911!”

“Is there any doctor out there?”

I can tell everyone is stressed and I’m starting to get there, too.  Sensing the rise of my anxiety, Steve calms things down for me.  He leans down by my ear, holds my hand, and talks softly to me.  He was very re-assuring to me.  I didn’t have to be in control, I was just following my Coach’s lead.  He succeeded at getting me back in “the zone” and we were “puah’ing” together.  At some point during his soft-spoken instructions in my ear, he tells me to keep my eyes closed.  It made perfect sense — visually shut out all the distraction. 

It made sense, that is, until I smelled something odd.  Wait, I smelled it with the “puah’s”.  It was almost like it was coming from Steve’s breath.  “Just keep your eyes closed, honey” he continues to say.  And then, the smell becomes more familiar.  I know this smell, I’ve smelled it recently.  Oh, yes…

It’s Turkey.  Turkey on Hawaiian bread with honey mustard and swiss!  Yeah, I know this smell, I packed it just a few short hours ago!

IT’S THE FREAKING TURKEY SANDWICH THAT I PACKED IN THE COACH’S GOODY BAG!

And then, I do open my eyes, despite my Coach’s warning.  And there he is, caught red-handed with the turkey sandwich!  So that’s why I need to “keep my eyes closed!”

All our labor pals (Moms) tried to defend him – needs his strength, too, yada, yada. 

I had just a few short seconds to INSIST in Transition-phase vernacular, that Steve drop the *#!* sandwich, before my doctor waltzed in for delivery. 

And to this day, I think that doc’s arrival saved Steve’s life.  Me and the nurse could have delivered that baby, but a few more seconds and I might have killed Steve with my own bare hands. 

It became a funny story within just minutes, as our healthy baby girl arrived!  And funny though it may now be, you can bet he NEVER made that mistake again!