Labor painsHere's a funny story (well, at least I thought it was horrifying yet amusing) for you to enjoy about one of our family friend's who just had a new baby, written from the father's point of view. Enjoy! On Tuesday morning, Lila began feeling mild contractions associated with first stage labor. Given that Amelia [their first daughter] had taken 24 hours of labor before
arriving, we estimated a Wednesday morning arrival of our second child.
Because the baby was already 8 days past the due date, we went in for the regular doctor's appointment, where Lila was hooked up to insure that everything was okay
with the baby. Heartbeat was okay and Lila was only at 1.5cm, so we went home around noon.
Upon arriving home, the Terminex people were already at our house. The previous Friday, we had a swarm of the flying termites come into our home from the back
porch door. Apparently, a mud tube (pathway for termites) had made its way into the door jam. In hindsight, I guess I should have assumed that the termites flying through our house was an omen of the chaos that would be coming. Because we didn't want Amelia, and a pregnant wife in first stage labor in the house during the treatment, we moved daughter and expectant mother to Lila's mom's awaiting car, where
they were whisked away to her mom's house. There she continued her 1st stage labor, while I stayed back with the Terminex people and my mom.
One additional detail. While the Terminex people were under the house on the previous Friday, they also noticed that there was an opossum living under our
house. As a consequence, we had pest control come to our house to set up traps. Okay... so, where are we? We've got oppossum traps around the house. The house
smells like chemicals. We still have a bunch of dead flying termites in the house. Lila and Amelia are at her mom's house, it's now about 2PM, and I'm with my
mom looking at a house that we can't go into for 3-4 hours. Seemed like a good time for lunch.
I had a thoroughly enjoyable lunch with my mom, sharing my visions with my mom about a house overrun with kids, opossums and termites. Imagining kids falling through the floor boards and sounds of scratching from under the floors during the night.
Anyway, we get to Lila's mom's house at around 4PM to find that the contractions are about 25 minutes apart. We decide to let Lila rest for the upcoming marathon
and eventually leave at around 5:30PM, leaving Amelia at Lila's parents. While driving home Lila decides that she's going to have sushi for a last dinner as a
one child mom so the three of us (Lila, me, and my mom) go out to a sushi boat restaurant. We fnally get home at around 7:30 or so where her contractions are now at around 12 minutes. They stay at about 12 minutes until about 8:30PM, when Lila's contractions begin drastically reducing to 2 minutes over a 30 minute period. So... we decide to go to the hospital. We leave the house at 9:15PM. Took us about 10
minutes just to move Lila from the house to the car (some 3 or 4 contractions during the transfer).
During the drive, Lila has another 3 or 4 contractions where she is screaming the loudest that I've ever heard her scream. She's arching her back and moving
her hips forward in the seat. She says to me between contractions, "if I'm still only 3cm, I'm taking the drugs!!! I can't take this!!!" Hmmm, this looks serious. I'm driving, trying to stay calm, telling her to breathe and relax. She's navigating, screaming at me as I almost take the wrong turn twice.
We arrive at the hospital at around 9:25PM, parked in the "Ambulance Only" parking spot. I pull Lila out of the passenger seat and we start to walk. She makes it
about 15 yards and says she can't do it. Two paramedics are at their ambulance, I yell over for help to get a wheelchair. One goes back inside as the other paramedic comes over to assit. The first one comes back and says there's no wheelchair but brings a stool with casters. When Lila tries to sit down, she immediately stands back up and says the pain is too much. It's now about 9:35PM. With no wheelchair and a screaming woman, the parmedics grab their gurney and have Lila lie on her side on the gurney. The situation seems tense, but time is still moving slowly. Every step takes longer as Lila is clearly in pain. A minute for her to get onto the gurney, a minute for We move to the ER where a team of about 4 (doctor and residents) move her to the ER table and strip Lila's pants off.
At that moment, the whole world changed. You can imagine that the hospital staff were all thinking that this was just some screaming woman that is overexaggerating the pain. Given our previous experience with Amelia, I was of the same thought. But when the pants came off, you could not only hear, but you could also feel the collective gasp as you could clearly see the top of the baby's head already peeking out. Suddenly, the ER staff came to life. The sudden realization that this was actually an emergency could be felt by myself as well as Lila. A little panic set in as I looked at Lila. Her eyes were wide open and rapidly focussing and refocussing
on everyone and everything around her. She was lost. This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen.
The first question from the ER doctor onsite. Do we deliver, do we move her up? I stayed focussed enough to immediately state that I wanted to go up. And that
we're already registered and planned to deliver at the hospital. The staff are on the phone with upstairs to let them know that they have one of their patients and
that she's deliverying now! The doctor asks again, and I state again that we should move. I didn't want my child born in the ER... we had time. The doctor takes another look and decides, "okay, let's move". They throw a blanket over Lila, unlock the wheels and we're on our way. It's probably just around 9:45.
It was like a scene from a TV show. We had 4 people from the ER and me running through the hotel pushing a gurney with a screaming woman. As we passed by the attendants, the doctor screams, "tell them we're coming up NOW". We turn right, we turn left, go down a hall, turn left. I can't see anything around me as if I've now developed tunnel vision. It's like playing the very first version of Doom. You know
those television scenes where the gurney hits the double doors slamming the doors open with a thud? I realized, that that doesn't really happen. Most of the doors are badge access. I never saw that on TV.
As we round yet another turn, the doctor asks "what's the best way to get to delivery?". Not that he was asking me, but I was just about to respond, "YOU'RE
ASKING ME?!?". Fortunately, one of the residents that were alongside responded and we continued.
So, now we're in the delivery room, where there are at least 4 more Labor&Delivery personnel scurrying around trying to prepare the room and failing miserably.
9:48 - The ER staff, doctor, and me have to move Lila over to the delivery table. She's in a contraction. The doctor fearing that this is may be nearing the last push, tells Lila, "DON'T PUSH", and we lift the sheet underneath her and slide her over to the delivery table. The blanket that had been covering Lila allowing her to maintain her modesty during our quick gurney tour of the hospital was removed. Another gasp... The baby's head was already crowning and sticking out a few inches.
9:49 - "NOW YOU CAN PUSH", the doctor yells, but the contraction has ended. "Okay, we'll wait for the next one"... The contraction comes and the baby comes half
way out. The cord is around the neck, the lower torso is still hidden from view. The baby is already screaming. The thought that came to my mind in that instance was an episode from Twilight Zone where the guy had half of his body in another dimension. The doctor pulled the umbilical cord over the head and we waited for the next contraction.
9:50 - The baby arrives amidst a flood of fluids. Since there was no time to prepare, Lila hadn't been in a position that would have allowed the fluids to
drop into a basin. Instead, Lila suddenly found herself sitting in shallow warm water. Ah yes, we never did have time to take her sweater and shirt off. Oh, what a mess! I announce to Lila, "it's Olivia!". The doctor is now holding Olivia, the umbilical cord has been cut. Although he's a doctor, he admits, that he hasn't delivered a baby in at least a decade, looks around and asks "now what do I do?". The nurses of the delivery room respond, "GIVE HER TO THE MOM!", to which the doctor replies, "oh yeah, good idea" and hands our newborn daughter into Lila's awaiting arms.
Welcome to Olivia Therese Chu
Born December 6th, 9:50PM, 20in, 7lbs 9oz.
