The Story of Leah's Birth

A couple of folks have asked to hear how it all went down, so I thought I'd write a post so I could remember myself. The details are already a little murky, so I would like to try and get it fixed in my head before I lose it completely!

Tuesday morning, we woke up thinking that the whole thing had been a false alarm. We knew that B. had a clinic appointment in the afternoon, so we decided to go and see what they had to say and then we planned to go home afterwards. We figured it wasn't a total waste of a trip because at least we got the crib set up and got the baby's stuff moved, and we would be ready to roll when the call did come in and would just have to jump in the car and drive. Michael didn't want to take off time from work unnecessarily, so the plan was to take B. to the clinic, take her home, and we'd go home.

Fate had other plans. B. called us around 10:00 and her exact words were, "I think we've made some progress, I woke up this morning and the bed was all wet." So we asked her what the plan was, and she had said that she called the hospital and they told her not to come in until her appointment at 2:30 anyway. So we decided we would go up there around lunch time to get her and bring her to the hospital.

We called her back around 11:30 to see if she wanted lunch, and she was getting antsy and told us that she had stuff for lunch at her house and could we just come? So we hopped in the car and went over there. Fortunately, it's only a 20 minute ride from Tom's house. When we got there, she was packed. She said she wanted to go early and asked if we wanted some lunch, and we declined. It was at that point it kind of dawned on me that it was happening and so we put her in the car and hauled butt to Baltimore. Once we got there, Baltimore was a total cluster-you-know-what. They had cops out directing traffic around the lights, which in my view is about the worst thing ever, and B was in the backseat, extremely unhappy. I put my hazard lights on hoping that would spur people to action, but no one and nothing moved. It took us 20 minutes to get to Baltimore and another half hour once we were in the city to get to the hospital.

We went to the clinic and they sent us directly upstairs to labor and delivery triage to see if she would be admitted. Michael had to wait downstairs, as only one visitor is permitted at a time in triage, and we saw a boatload of nurses and doctors and midwives in that time. They determined that B's water did in fact break, and she was still at 2cm, but they said, "Congratulations, you're not going home!" They found out about our relationship and the adoption and were thrilled to be a part of it, and so once B was admitted upstairs, I went and got Michael and we went to the laboring room and sat with B. for a while. The hospital social worker, Anita, came down to see and explain the hospital procedures and we gave her what paperwork we had, and she was totally fine with getting with the attorneys, etc. to make sure that everything was in order. Eventually it was determined that Leah would be discharged to B. and then B. would hand her over to us outside the hospital walls, which we all agreed to.

After that, Michael and I decided to go down to the cafeteria for some lunch. Nothing much else was happening, and B was resting and refusing pain medications, so she told us to go while we still could. When we got back, there was really still no progress, she was closing in on 3cm, and it had been over 12 hours since her water broke at 2:00AM (by now it was probably 5pm). I had a funny feeling things were going to be totally slow, and possibly end in a c-section, but I was hoping things went well. 7:00 was the shift change, so we got a new round of nurses and doctors, and B started getting really uncomfortable. Her contractions were steady, but not doing a whole lot. She asked for pain medications through her IV, which they gave her and she fell asleep. They woke her up every couple of hours to check her progress, which she HATED, but by midnight she was still only at 4cm. They gave her 5cm to give her some encouragement, but she was getting kind of pissed and asked for an epidural, so the doctor came in and I am pleased to say I didn't faint while they administered it and I was the one to hold her hands and give her reassurance while it was placed.

Meanwhile, we were watching terrible television, and the "pull out bed/chair" was broken and kept sliding apart into 3 pieces so rest was not easy to come by. Michael opted to stay awake the entire night--he was too excited to sleep. I dozed in the broken chair and when B. had contractions, I would try to help her breathe and relax, as she was getting very, very tense, which wasn't helping at all.

Around 3:00 they came in to check again and she was at 8cm. However, the baby was starting to get distressed--her heartbeat was dropping and the pitocin was not easy for her to tolerate. They monitored it a little while longer and finally decided that they should do a c-section. B was freaking out, shaking and crying, so I just smoothed her hair and gave her a hug and told her we wouldn't let anything bad happen to her and it was going to be OK. (She must have been doubly scared because she didn't have any other supports besides us--we who are two total amateurs at the childbirth game!) She asked me to go with her, and so the medical staff gave me a set of paper scrubs and a mask and told me that I could come into the OR in a bit.

I took one look at the scrubs and was like, "uh-huh, then. No way." The shirt fit fine, if a bit snug, but the pants did not fit at all. To be fair, if I hadn't been wearing jeans, they would have been fine. But over jeans, no way. So the nurses scrambled and tried to find a larger size, but they couldn't, so finally one of the techs grabbed a pair of scissors, told me to put them on as far as I could (got 'em up to my hips!) and then cut the sides so I could get into them the rest of the way. I was waddling like a penguin shoehorned into those suckers, but I went into that OR with 'em on, by God!

They had already started working on B by the time I was allowed in, and frankly, I don't have the world's greatest stomach around blood and needles and scalpels and such. But for some reason, I found this entire experience totally riveting. I sat down next to B's head and she was shaking, so I took her hand and told her everything was OK and she was in good hands. She was holding my hand in a death grip, so I just patted her forehead--the only part of her that was not covered--and kept whispering reassurances to her. Her shaking stopped. The doctors were working fast and I don't know what all they were doing, but they had quite a mess on their hands--lots of blood and suctioning and towels and instruments, but in about 5 minutes after I got in there, the head surgeon said, "Get ready, ladies!" and he gave a tug, and out popped Leah! I don't know if this is totally normal, but that baby's feet were kicking like David Beckham. I said to B, "No wonder all you could feel was kicking all the time!" and she smiled, closed her eyes, and promptly started snoring. Well, what could I do? I burst into tears.

I just couldn't take my eyes off her. The nurses took her over to a bed to get cleaned up and check her vitals, and I just sat and held B's hand and watched them. One of them asked me if I was the mom, but I could not speak, so I just nodded mutely, and they said, "Well get on over here and look at your baby!" B was snoring her head off, so I let go of her hand and went over to the little bed and there was Leah, perfect little Leah. I managed to ask if I could take some pictures and they said I could take as many as I wanted, and this was the first picture of her I took. They were giving her a little oxygen. The oxygen level in her blood was in the low 90's and if it dipped below 90, they'd have had to take her to the NICU, but after a couple of minutes of oxygen, her levels stabilized and she was fine and dandy.



Then they asked if I'd like to hold her. I managed to snuffle out that I needed to sit down first, I was standing on rubbery legs at this point! One of the nurses took the camera, I sat down and they handed me Leah for the first time.



They took her footprints, slapped some ID bracelets on her, and then it was time to leave. I walked out first to catch my breath--the mask was caked with tears and from my nose running and I was a total basket case. They wheeled Leah out a minute later and the nurse asked if we needed to go back to the room before we went to the nursery? I said, "My husband is in there, can he see her?" and they said, "Of course!" so we went to see Michael. He was waiting with a big grin on his face, despite not having slept, it was easy to see how excited he was! We walked in and I said, "Here she is!" and he jumped up and started to look at her.



If I thought I was moved before, it was nothing compared to how I felt when Michael saw her and held her for the first time. He was so tender and gentle and his first question was, "What was the official time?!" The nurse took the camera again and snapped the picture of the three of us together (what's awesome about that picture is the clock on the wall saying 4:20, which is our wedding anniversary!) and then it was time to go to the nursery, so I left Michael again temporarily and went up to the nursery to observe how Leah measured up. After another 30 minutes or so, I came back down and B was back, snoring her head off still, and Michael stood up, and I just grabbed him and we both started bawling. It was just the start of three days of tears, everything either one of us thought of was the cause of more tears.

We left B a note that we loved her and were going home to sleep for real and we'd be back. As a plucky bonus, the garage operators were off duty, so we got to leave without paying! We got home around 6:30 and only slept for about 4 hours before we were up and moving again and on our way back to the hospital. B was so happy to see us, but slept most of the day. Her sister was there, but also left after we arrived. The social worker called mid-day and said that she had spoken to B. and that B had said the only way she made it through was Susan keeping her calm, which really moved me! I started crying all over again. The doctors and nurses kept coming in all day to "see the adoptive parents"--we were something of superstars on the ward because they hadn't seen an open adoption actually work like that in the past and were all moved that we were all on such good terms, which also made me feel really good.

So that's how it went down on April 8, 2009--the best day ever!