Monday, July 1, 2013

The story of you

I meant to do this a while ago...oh like 11 months ago and here we are weeks/days away from celebrating your first year of life and I'm trying to piece together all the details and emotions from that Friday in March that changed our lives forever.

It has been an impossible task. First of all, so much time has passed and there's a reason why people tell you to write things down immediately. We're a bit foggy on the details like, "did water break at midnight?" "No it was sooner-no later". "So what time did we leave the house?" "How long did I push?"   In my defense, I was too busy to focus on such details because I was, you know, pushing out a baby and all! But even more so than the details, I can't for the life of me figure out how to describe and put into words such a profound and forever life changing event.

After a lot of back and forth, I decided to write your birth story as I imagine telling it to you as you get older mainly because I feel silly trying to write in scientific terms. Pregnancy lingo has always been lost on me. The whole 40 weeks doesn't really add up to 9 months has always seemed suspect to me so clearly I am no expert. Even though I don't remember all the details like how far apart contractions were or how long I pushed it doesn't really, REALLY matter; especially, when we retell the story to you. What you'll want to hear is how I managed to walk to the hospital in the middle of the night, how your dad swears we almost had you in the streets of New York City and how I pushed so hard I broke every capillary in my face.

But still ...I'm not sure where to begin and even though this is your "birth story" I'd be remiss to not mention those nine months prior.

Even though you were "planned" as in we made a conscious decision to leave the "goal unattended"-you were still a surprise. It happened pretty darn fast like "first time fast" and I think we were both kinda shocked when the stick came back positive. At the time, I don't think I truly appreciated how blessed we were to get pregnant with a "sticky" baby so quickly.

Your pregnancy came at a very busy time in my life. After not working in the TV industry for awhile I landed a freelance job on top of that I still continued my proofreading job. Needless to say I had a lot going on and your Dad was simply amazing. He was there for me.. or technically there for us. He helped out so so much..simply put he simplified life. I never had to think about food it was just there. When doc said I wasn't eating enough protein he whipped up eggs every morning. He packed my lunch. Every day I'd head into Soho carrying my "not-so-cool" Babies R Us purple, reusable bag that we got when we registered full of apple slices, yogurt and nuts. He's a bit skimpy on the dessert  portion of bagged lunches consider yourself warned. My hope for you baby girl is that you find a partner in life as thoughtful as your father. He is not perfect, he is flawed, we all are.  More often than not he is wrong and stubborn to a fault and he drives me crazy but he is caring and supportive and that is important. You remember that when you fall in love

Those nine months went by fast oh so fast. And I know this sounds corny but it truly is a magical experience for a couple to go through.  Nothing so far in our lives can compare. It's full of wonder and excited, nervous anticipation.  I remember walking hand in hand in the streets of New York noticing every baby and not believing that soon we'd have our own.  I have the fondest memories of your father and me preparing for your arrival. Trying to decorate your "corner" in our one-bedroom.  Having your dad talk to you in my belly.  Just thinking about those moments warms my heart.


registering for diapers

trying out the carrier


I had an easy pregnancy with you-it was pretty much a walk in the park. I had one small bout of sickness that looking back was so minuscule I don't think it should even count. It took forever for me to start showing and I could fit in most of my tops for most of my pregnancy. I felt relatively comfortable even those last few weeks. I credit our walking lifestyle and the prenatal yoga, I'm sure helped. But don't worry you didn't let me off the hook so easily. It seems you decided to wait to make your appearance into this world before you started making me run for my money.

The only problem I had during my pregnancy and looking back it wasn't really a problem but docs said I wasn't gaining enough weight and you were measuring small. And so it began---my stress and worry that I wasn't eating enough-that I was doing something wrong. We had to go in for several sonograms to monitor your growth. When you are expecting a child there is nothing that you want more than to have a healthy child. It is what you wish, pray and hope for with every breath you take.  This "fear" planted in my head that you were too small reared its ugly head and I think it did play a role in how your labor went down. It did also give me a free pass to eat with abandon. Carvel Ice Cream Cake and Haagen Dazs Mint Chip were daily fixtures in my diet.

37 Weeks


I thoroughly enjoyed preparing for your arrival. But only parts of it. I hated putting together the baby registry, No surprise there, anything that involves shopping and making decisions doesn't bode well with me. Looking back, it seems so silly fretting over how many socks and onsies you had.

 What I truly did enjoy and looked forward to every week was the birthing class your Dad and I signed up for at the hospital. Harriet was the instructor. Oh Harriet. I will never forget Harriet. She looked like our Tia Haydee-short with a round belly on top of skinny legs and small frizz for hair. Her round belly came in handy as she would demonstrate breathing techniques. God, I loved that woman. Nothing ruffled Harriet's feathers more than unnecessary medical intervention. Week after week she would stand on her soap box and tell us that our bodies were made to give birth to babies and it was her job to help us get through it. She showed us breathing and relaxation techniques. Your Dad and I felt like straight up fools practicing them. Her mantra,"labor at home as long as possible." Living a mere few blocks from the hospital I intended to do so. I wanted to try to have a natural and drug free birth and I knew I had a better chance to make it if  I stayed at home as long as possible. I also wanted to keep you inside me for as long as I could. In my mind the longer you 'baked' the stronger and bigger you would be. 

So when I went to the doctors a week before your due date and the doctor wiped my membranes without me really knowing that's what she was doing and she called it a cervical massage-I cried and got mad and tried to deny/ignore that labor was starting. I know I said this wasn't going to be a technical post but I can't really tell the story without it. Basically, the doctor jumped started labor by moving things down there without me really wanting it or knowing that's what she was doing. To be fair I'm sure you were close, everyone that examined me would comment how low you were. And if you weren't ready to come out the procedure would've done nothing to jump start labor just ask any woman past her due date desperate to have her baby come out that gets the procedure done to no avail! But I was still a week away from my due date with no signs that I would go past my due date so there was no reason in my mind to push things along. Afterwards I learned its a common procedure in some practices to perform a cervical massage close to due date. I felt cheated and robbed of knowing how it would have gone down if the doc had kept her damn hands to herself.

But at the time I didn't really know all this. The doc did tell me that contractions could start up but I didn't really pay any mind because I was sure that you weren't coming yet. It wasn't even April yet. Famous last words.

For the rest of the day I took it relatively easy. I worked from home. I had already ended my freelance job. I do remember taking a short cat nap which I never ever do. Thank god for that little nap because there wouldn't be much sleeping happening soon enough. I definitely remember feeling pressure and what I now know were contractions. I started feeling them regularly enough that about an hour before I expected your father to get home (around 4) I figured I should start writing down the times...just in case...but still I was very firm that it was just Braxton Hicks or something. How was I supposed to know they were definite contractions? I've never been in labor before and I had been feeling "stuff" down there for a while now. I thought maybe it was just pressure from you being so low. Your dad came home around 5. We kept jotting times down but they were pretty inconsistent.

It was sometime around 6:30 because the evening news was on when I figured I better finish packing the hospital bag. OK that's a lie it was more like start packing the hospital bag. I know some girls have their bags ready to go halfway through their pregnancy.  And I'm sure for some the idea that I didn't have it packed is just crazy but I really hate packing. I don't do well with having to make absolute decisions like what do I plan to wear home from hospital. How can I make such decisions when I don't know what the weather is gonna be like? Besides I've learned the more I plan the more things get shot to hell and back. And I particularly dreaded putting together a hospital bag. And I was so tired of people asking me if my bags were packed. I never ever got annoyed from people asking me how I'm feeling or when I'm due or the sex of the baby but asking me if my bag is packed became such a pet peeve of mine!! Why is there so much emphasis on a hospital bag?? I'm sure it has to do with family sitcoms. Sure baby needs something to come home in but that's usually a day away...whatever I digress.. there was no more putting it off any longer. Bag needed to be packed. Things were happening down there. So I grudgingly whipped out the baby books to the chapter on what to bring to hospital and proceeded to over pack. I didn't use half the stuff I brought. Magazines for reading, baby books. There was no time for reading let me assure you.

For the next couple of hours I proceeded to drive your father nuts. See, even though I was a week from my due date and its not like I could ignore you were coming I still thought I had more time. I wanted relaxing music to be played during your birth-- the book I read said it would help. But I hadn't downloaded any music to my iPhone. Your Dad with a grin and bear it attitude willingly obliged and proceeded to download music in between contractions. Music was never played.

My toes were a mess and I could not conceive heading to the hospital without painting my toenails. Your father must have been having convulsions inside but he put on his best face and insisted he would paint them for me. This is very unlike your father. He never puts on a good face for the sake of politeness or to please others. Your birth is proof he is capable of such things but unfortunately, I don't see this side of him that often. "People-pleaser" your dad is not. So your Dad painted my toenails. He actually did a terrible job and I think I could have done a better job even with my belly in the way but he insisted and I figured a botched pedicure would be better than no pedicure. Somehow he spilled nail polish all over his jeans and I felt really bad. They were one of his favorite pair of jeans. Your dad went to go get the stain remover hoping the polish might come out. The bottle had in huge letters MAX.



We were convinced it was a sign. Max was the name we both kinda agreed on for a boy and since we were convinced it was a boy (or more so I was convinced and therefore convinced your father it was a boy) we thought it was a sign to go with this name and that Max would be arriving shortly. Man, we had it all wrong.

I can't for the life of me remember what time everything took place. I remember calling Harriet later in the evening maybe around 11. I really was still hanging on that you weren't coming yet. When I told Harriet what I was feeling and what went down at the doctors she got mad, mad. She told me that was no massage but that she had wiped my membranes. I felt stupid. I should have known better but I thought it was routine to do an internal exam and I was so eager to hear if I was dilated that I didn't stop to question things. I got really upset and mad. Mad at the doctor, mad at myself. Harriet tried her best to tell me what I wanted to hear that the baby may not come yet since my water hadn't broken but I could tell from her voice and choice of words that she was convinced baby was on the way. I was so so upset because I wanted so badly to have a natural birth with as little medical intervention as possible and I felt this was definite intervention sure it wasn't drugs but still I felt it was messing with things and it's not what I wanted and I felt cheated. It immediately made me feel distrust in my doctors and weary of going to the hospital especially since I really wanted you to make it to your due date because of your size. I let myself get upset, I knew I couldn't get passed it without a good cry and and trust me I did. I cried my eyes out but then I told myself  I had to get over it. I prayed that all the negative feelings I was feeling would go away. I was upset but there was no going back now and the last thing I wanted was to bring you into the world with feelings of anger and disappointment. I had to focus and it was getting harder to do so I did my best to push aside  any negative thoughts and focus on the task at hand. Bringing you into this world.

I had accepted that yes, I indeed was in labor and I was definitely starting to feel it.  But when to leave for the hospital? This is where things start to get confusing. Seriously your father and I were kinda a big fail on the whole contractions thing. If there's one thing I took away from the prep classes was the whole 3-1-1 rule: leave for the hospital once contractions are three minutes apart, a minute long for an hour.

Yea my body never did that.  And because of everything that went down I was less than eager to run to the hospital. I was weary before when I sat in their office listening to the doctors tell me that just because I planned on delivering in a hospital versus a birthing center that I could still  have the experience I wanted. Their word that they would honor my desire to go natural seemed like baloney to me after jump starting my labor that didn't need it in my mind. And so now, more than ever I  was determined  to stay home as long as possible. And I really took the 3-1-1 rule seriously. Much to your fathers dismay.

Still thinking we could get some sleep  I decided to take a shower and hopefully go to bed. No sooner was I out of the shower and all nice and clean when my water broke. I'm thinking it was around between 11:30 and midnight.  It's not like this gush or anything but its definite wetness. Your dad insisted we call the doctor I was all like, "I can still stay home for another six hours! We don't need the doctor!!" I ended up calling the doctor.  I was relieved that the doctor that I felt had the coldest bedside manner was not on call. She said I should come in. I resisted. "Isn't it possible to stay home for six hours after water breaks," I asked weakly but determined. She said I could hold out awhile longer if I wanted to but didn't sound convinced about my six hour argument. She said wait 30 minutes or so and reassess. Later on, she told us that after hearing my voice she knew she would be delivering our baby that night. They had told us in class that most experienced doctors and midwives can tell how far you are in labor by the sound of your voice and I guess it's true.

By now your Dad was ready to go to hospital ASAP. And while I still resisted contractions were coming a lot more frequently and a lot stronger. But they still didn't follow a real pattern which threw us off. Sometimes contractions were strong but lasted only 30 or 40 seconds. We naively thought they had to last a full minute. But I knew we needed to go. I was feeling shaky and I was desperately trying to hold on to the breathing techniques I learned in class and in yoga but was struggling. I really, really wanted to take another shower again because a) I felt icky after my water broke and 2)  I hoped it would help with the contractions.  You dad was not thrilled with this idea at all. Your dad says I was stalling on going but at this point I wasn't stalling I was just trying to get if together to leave. I thought, "let me whip out my yoga mat and get on all fours maybe that'll help. Your dad's look-the look of "I-am-losing patience" started to sneak through and after trying a few things again in hopes to feel enough relief to make it to hospital I figured relief ain't coming let's just get to hospital.

And so began what felt like the LONGEST walk of my life. The walk to the hospital would normally take maybe about 10 minutes. Third trimester pregnant I'd say 15 close to 18 but still it's a walk we did everyday of our lives to get to work, the grocery store, etc.  Your dad wanted to take a cab. I think in his mind making his pregnant  and in labor wife walk to the hospital counted as a fail on his part but I could not for the life of me imagine sitting in the back of a cab for even 5 minutes. I needed to move. Sway, rock, lean but sit no frigging way. Besides it was maybe 2:30 in the morning now and even though we lived in the city that never sleeps cabs were few and far in between.

I remember the cold air felt so, so good against my skin. A nice change from being inside the apartment but the cool air was not enough of a distraction to handle these contractions. I can see now why they describe it as waves but I felt like I was getting slammed one right after another. There didn't even seem time to recover from last one and take a few more steps before the next one came. I can't even tell you how many times we had to stop. We inched and waddled our way to hospital I don't even know how we got there.

I'm pretty sure it was during the walk up the hill (Did I forget to mention the walk to the hospital is uphill!?) that I didn't think I could do this without help. I wanted that epidural and I wanted it bad but I knew there was a window that I could get it. I've heard stories of women being told it was too late and I decided that I did not want to be that woman but I was worried because this walk was taking forever!  We finally make it up the hill and to the hospital. We had to go through the emergency room (which by the way insurance charged us some ridiculous fee just for walking through the ER!!) A man at the front desk says "11th floor" and I'm all like, "how come he just assumed I was in labor?" I guess my waddle combined with the whole leaning against my husband and my swelling belly was a giveaway. I remember there was another woman that took the elevator with us. Her daughter was in labor and it made me yearn for my momma. I kept asking your dad, "did you call my mom, are they coming?" While I have no regrets that it was just me and your Dad in the delivery room how I wish your grandparents and tias weren't four hours away. The woman on the elevator also told me that her daughter had just gotten an epidural and I was all like yea that's the first thing I want too.

When we got to triage the woman at the desk looked bored out of her mind and not in any kind of hurry AT ALL. Clearly, she wasn't feeling what I was feeling. Your dad got to work filling out paperwork while I tried to hold it together. I remember getting a contraction and leaning over the chairs breathing for dear life. FINALLY the woman "got it" and I heard her paging "active mommy, active mommy" and then a nurse came out to get me and I was led to the back to change. Looking back this must have been transition because I remember being in so much pain I couldn't focus,  I couldn't do anything. She asked me to give her a urine sample and change into a gown. I have no idea how I managed to get undressed and into that gown but told the nurse that urine sample wasn't happening. I was definitely starting to panic especially since everyone seemed to be moving soooo slow! They tried to hook me up to a monitor but they couldn't get a reading because I kept sitting up during contractions. Yea, ask a woman in labor to lie down on her back during a contraction, yea sure. After what seemed forever the intern came in to check me. I was so anxious to get this party i.e. drugs started. Your dad and I will never forget this part. Intern was a tiny petite Asian woman and looked super young. As she was checking me she got very quiet and had this look of surprise on her face and finally said "umm  you're completely dilated this is happening NOW."

Everyone was shocked and there was a second of stunned silence and then finally everyone started getting their butt in gear. Out of nowhere my doctor appeared or technically the on-call doctor from my practice. Where did she come from? She  must have already been at the hospital. Your dad swears she came in after she talked to me on the phone but I don't know if I believe that.  Maybe on call docs hang out in the hospital I don't know but she just appeared out of nowhere. Her name was Dr. Simonson. She had fun short curly hair (I felt the curls were a good sign maybe it's because your tias have curly hair but I always appreciate women that embrace their curls)  and she looked totally casual. I remember her wearing a  zipped up hoodie and thinking it was nice she didn't look "medical" if that makes sense.  Before this moment I had spent maybe seven to ten minutes total with her during a routine check up appointment. She confirmed that, yup it's showtime. I asked if I could still get the epidural. She very rationally explained that I've done all the hard work. She said they could give me the epidural to push but it will slow things down. She estimated you would arrive within the next half an hour. Thirty more minutes surely I could do this right? I've come so far and last thing I want to do is prolong meeting you. I remember looking at your dad and him nodding and assuring me I can do this that I'm ALREADY doing this.

Once in the delivery room I gotta say things were pretty zen. Well as zen as a non-medicated labor can be. The only non zen moment was when I snapped at the nurse for asking me for the zillionth time what medications I'm taking. I never once yelled or cursed or even shed tears during labor. But seriously, I answered this question already five times isn't this NY hospital on a computerized system?? Here I am trying to focus on labor and I've had nurses ask me five different times what medications I take. In retrospect, maybe if I had packed my bag earlier I could've had a cheat sheet with a list of medications and allergies.

I wish I could recall exactly how many times I pushed or how long we were in the delivery room but I cannot. And neither can your dad. But I have to say it was less than 30 minutes and only a handful of pushes. The thing that baffles me is that I never felt the urge to push. I thought it would be weird to not feel anything down there and have to have the doctor tell me when to push which was a big part of me wanting to go med free. Every woman that I talked to describes this natural urge to push but I didn't feel that.  It makes me wonder if maybe I wasn't as far into my labor as everyone thought.

The doc told me to push through the contractions and this is where I broke every capillary in my face. I kinda wish I could get a do over on this part. I pride myself in being a good student. Your mother may have been known as a bit of a teacher's pet back in her day. So I took it to heart when Harriet (our Lamaze instructor), the prenatal yoga instructor AND the natural birthing book by that famous mid wife all told me to NOT hold my breath when pushing-to keep my mouth soft.  But when a contraction came and the doctor told me to push through it I couldn't quite figure how to push and keep my mouth soft and not hold my breath. (Harriet would be so disappointed) I tried not holding my breath but my doctor kept correcting me and I wish I had trusted my instincts and ignored her but I didn't and I held my breath. Your dad said he didn't think a human face could turn such bright red.

I don't really remember physical pain or discomfort during this part. All I remember is being very focused and determined that I needed to get you out. If it meant pushing until I ruptured every vein in my body so be it all I cared about is that you were almost here. 

At 3:59 on March 30, 2012 you arrived. After months of waiting for this moment you were here and it was truly everything I wanted it to be.  It was surreal. You were most importantly, healthy! Ten fingers, ten toes! 













And you were a girl! I really, really wanted your dad to be the one to announce whether you were a boy or a girl and when you came into this world your dad called you... Olivia. Yea, we didn't end up going with that one. Sure hope you don't hate us for the name we chose. 

You were placed in my arms immediately and you were perfect.  I swear you looked right at me like you just knew I was your momma and this is where you belonged. 



I may not have had time to put on contacts or do my hair but at least my toes were painted!


Fifteen months and one day later as I finish writing this, I glance over to watch you sleep. 


Fifteen Months



I wish I could describe to you what the past 15 months have been like. We've been through so much. I remember my first night at the hospital alone with you. What a nervous momma I was. How I sucked at swaddling you.  
Our first night together. Picture I sent to your father after he left hospital since he couldn't stay with us overnight. 

Your grandmother has this saying, "todo se aprende." Everything is learned. It is so true. From the moment you were placed in my arms, you and I have been on this road together. Slowly trying to figure  things out. Me, learning how to be the best momma to you-learning when to let go and learning how truly deep the depths of my love for another human being can be.

And my God, I do love you. More than I thought possible. 

So that's the story of the day you came into this world and the day I stopped sleeping! :)