On February 7, 2105 at 7:23 AM, weighing in at 6 lbs. 7 oz, and 19 1/2 inches long, our wonderful little bundle came into the world. Dawson Wesley Reitz was born! After all was said and (more than we'd anticipated was) done, Corey and I can look back after just a week and breathe out a bit of relief and bucketfuls of thankfulness. We love everything about him. Everything.
At 3:30 that morning, I woke up thinking, hmmm...was that a contraction? I waited a bit, then started timing the new pains just to be sure and after an hour I was positive. I woke up Corey and told him it was time, and that the contractions were between 5 and 8 minutes apart already. We called our friends-on-call to hang at our place til morning...our awesome friend Donna was the first to respond and she was here in no time at all, although Corey was nervously feeling every second of every minute tick by. And we were off!
By the time we arrived at the hospital, the pains were already 5 minutes apart and coming harder. The nurses were very relaxed about the whole thing, no doubt figuring I would be there a while anyway. They seemed to be in no hurry to help me out or assess the situation yet. After another 30 minutes, Corey's panic getting more apparent, the nurse finally checked me and when I heard her say, "let's see, (pause, pause....she's checking how dilated I am) let me just measure how many..." I knew it was more than a 3. She looked at me, surprised and told me I was dilated to a 7. Um, yeah, so lets do something about this is all I could think.
They still needed to do the standard blood work before anything else could happen. In the meantime, our nurse anesthetist walked in and Corey said, "Hey! I know you!" A friend of his brother's was going to do the Spinal. I said, "I don't," and we were introduced. What a super nice guy, and to be honest, I think a friendly face was a boon to the whole morning, especially for Corey who has been through such awful scenarios with our births that any little bit of comfort was a huge boon.
Finally, blood work was done, and my Dr. (who had been on call all night) walked in, checked me and confirmed I was at an 8, and he asked me if I still wanted to do the C-section. He said I'd probably have a baby here in a half hour or so either way. Oh, what a dilemma. I'd already set it in my mind that a section was the way I was doing it this time, primarily to possibly avoid the worsening of some other issues brewing up. But, I was extremely torn, especially knowing that things were going so fast and that a vaginal birth would be wonderful. In the end after tossing both options around between contractions, we opted for the original plan. I had felt good about it in the first place, and it still seemed a good option.
Up to surgery I went, Corey was getting dressed in gowns, and I was being numbed and prepped. By this time, contractions were about a minute apart and the pain was the worst I've ever felt. I had no doubt that the baby would be here soon no matter what. My body was confirming that. The spinal was virtually painless, at least in comparison to everything else I was feeling, although it didn't take effect very quickly so they gave me a smidge more to be sure.
Once I was numbed, sheet draped across my abdomen and husband by my side, it was a go. I realized after a minute that I could see a reflection of my c-section in a light just overhead. At first I was horrified, then I couldn't pull my eyes away, knowing that my baby would be in view any second. Then, he was! I saw his scrunched up little face and body being pulled out, just as I heard something about the cord around his neck. Then, when I didn't hear his cry I started getting panicky. I asked Corey if he was ok, and he just nervously said that he looked good. After a few seconds a whole crew of people rushed in for a 'code pink' and things moved fast. When Corey told me he was fine and that he'd just pee'd on a nurse, followed by the sound of my crying newborn, I was relieved and overcome. He was fine. A nurse brought him over and laid him on my chest within a minute or two and my tears ran down the sides of my face. My beautiful baby boy was here, and healthy and the joy of that moment was overwhelmingly full. I've never been able to do skin to skin contact with my newborns right away since they were all so early and had to be whisked away to the NICU. It was amazing to watch our baby lay nestled on my chest and start to root around for something more. I've heard they do that but to see it for myself was incredible. He nursed like a champ right away.
While we were enjoying the first moments of Dawson's life, the Dr. was finishing up with the surgery. I thought everything was ok until he peered over the sheet and explained to me that he was calling up a urologist and that my bladder was damaged and needed repairing that he wasn't able to fix. Apparently he'd tried and it just wasn't going well. I'd had some adhesions (scarring) that over time had caused the uterus to adhere the the bladder and it had been damaged badly in the process of the delivery. The Urologist happened to have just finished up with a surgery and was on his way, which is not usually the case and it can sometimes take a little time to get one there in such a situation. We felt lucky.
They were hoping to fix my bladder while the spinal was still in effect, but after the specialist assessed things, they let me know I'd need to go under general anesthesia for a second surgery. Bummer. After such intense joy, I was numb to the daunting situation before me. They put me under, and the next thing I knew I was groggily waking up in recovery. In my hazy state, Dr.'s came in and out explaining what had been done, what it meant, and what was next. The surgery had taken an additional 2 1/2 hours. My bladder was badly damaged, they'd fixed it with 3 layers of sutures, I had a catheter in place and it would be in place for 4 weeks. The urologist thought all would be fixed and good though, thankfully.
After the pain set in and I realized all my body had been through I was disheartened but still sure I'd made the right decision considering the wrapped cord situation. I might have put Dawson in a dire situation and ended up with a c-section anyway. Less trauma for him was still better, and in a month I'll likely be healed up and good to go. No matter what, I am grateful my little boy is ok. Corey and I were just glad everyone was ok...speaking of my awesome husband, he really was great and calm through the whole thing. The sweet guy even gave me a mother's necklace (when did he have time to find that?!) which I absolutely love. I'm so lucky to have him as the father of my kiddos, and my partner in crime. I just love that guy.
Tuesday morning, Corey came with some yummy Noosa (my new fave yogurt) and a smile. It was wonderful to have him there. Not long after, my OB came in and said I could go home if I wanted to. Of course I did! Going home held the promise of more than 6 hours of sleep in 4 days and my own bed and clothes and shower and my boys and a husband who would help me and love me and a baby who was coming home with me. We opted to go. Of course, in the hospital, you are in a time warp and even the seemingly simplest things take eons to accomplish. We finally made it home around 3, hallelujah!
After getting settled in, home is definitely better. My sweet baby sleeps next to the bed and is the sweetest addition to our family that we could hope for. My boys are glad to see mom again and cannot get enough time in holding their new brother. My husband is an absolute saint taking care of my needs right now, excited to hold his newest son and in hopes no doubt that his wife will be fully functioning in the near future...what a trooper! And I am loving my snuggle time with my sweet baby, enjoying the wonder of a newborn that is the source of non-stop entertainment for my older boys, and anxiously awaiting the time when I can walk at full speed, not worry about the stairs and ditch this extra accessory I've been assigned for a few more weeks. All in all, life is good.
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