I decided to write a post about this because it really is getting old repeating the story over and over again. It's long! So with this being your last chance to turn back, here's our story.
On Saturday, July 12, it seemed like any other Saturday. We hung out by the pool, had friends over, ran errands, etc. Peter had been predicting this day for months. He said that it was possible the full moon could put me into labor. At this point in the pregnancy, I was begging God to allow Peter to be right. I was very swollen, on watch for preeclampsia and just kind of miserable in general. I kept praying that He would just allow my water to break so that there would be no doubt and I could hold my baby.
This was the Saturday that Nicole had left for convention and also the Saturday before my due date. We decided to go to SaveMart to get some groceries for the week and get pizza for dinner and a RedBox to have a date night. We thought maybe it would be our last chance to have a date night before Baby was born. It just so happens that we were right. At this point, I was already dialated to a 4. My doctor had predicted that I would not make it to my due date. We got home from running our errands. I had felt very uncomfortable while we were walking in the store. We got home about 7 and sat down to watch our movie (Monuments Men) and eat pizza. That's when the contractions started. In my opinion, Peter may have been in denial that it was possible I was having contractions. At the same time, he kept saying, "I told you! It's a full moon!".
I remember the contractions feeling a lot stronger than any others I had had. I had had some before which my doctor had said had gotten me to a 4 to begin with. They continued throughout the movie. I timed them, walked around, hydrated. I was trying to mentally prepare myself for what was happening and what would happen. I was excited, scared, but mostly excited. I was so incredibly uncomfortable as I have mentioned before. It was the beginning of the end. After an hour and a half had passed, I called Labor and Delivery to see what to do next. I had followed the 5-1-1 rule. I had packed my hospital bag. I was ready. The nurse told me to keep walking around and hydrating. She told me to call back in an hour. The only reason she didn't have me come in right away I think was because I could still talk through my contractions. I compared them to bad menstral cramps. And believe me, these weren't bad. I have had cramps so bad I've passed out. These contractions weren't that bad. But they were every 3-5 minutes for over an hour. After speaking with the nurse, I went to take a shower and pack some last minute things for the hospital. Peter installed the car seat and made sure I drank water. I was so concerned about the timing, I honestly have no idea what was going through Peter's mind. The extra hour passed and I called the nurse back who told me to come in.
We arrived at Kaiser at around 10:15pm. We went in through the ER. We had no idea where to go other than through the ER. The triage was dealing with another person so we waited in line. Then a woman noticed us and asked if we were here to visit or if we were there for L&D. Obviously L&D. But she didn't know. She took us through the short cut. That was nice of her. The nurse who I had spoken to on the phone couldn't believe how quickly we had gotten there. She had me change into a gown and give a urine sample. Then she had me hooked up to a monitor to monitor the baby's heart rate and my contractions. She confirmed that I was having contractions but I could tell she didn't think they were very strong. After awhile, I met the midwife and RN on call. The midwife gave me a cervical exam. I HATE CERVICAL EXAMS. They seriously hurt more than any of my strongest contractions. She asked who told me I was a 4. I still wonder who else but my OB could have told me! She performed the exam and confirmed I was a 5. She was surprised. As I'm writing this, I have to remind myself exactly how I felt because this was my first birth. I feeling kind of like OK? Is that good or bad? I'm progressing, right? Should I be here or not? She said that my contractions were not consistent enough and not strong enough. I had wondered at the strength because they felt like menstral cramps but I knew they were contractions. I had timed them. I followed the rules. Why did I feel silly for even being here?
The midwife asked that we walk around for an hour and then she would check me again. We had had a full day already. Our usual bed time during the week and if we don't have plans on the weekend is 9:30pm. She just asked us to take a walk at 11:30pm! Of course I had adrenaline coursing thru my veins but poor Peter was just tired. Anyway, we did our walking around and around the area. We figured out where the on call doctors slept. That's about as exciting as that was. Boring walk. Longest hour to date. When the hour was up, the midwife came back when she had time and performed another exam. This one hurt way worse and I didn't know until the next morning why. I still don't understand why she didn't communicate with me what she was doing. The result of the exam was that I had progressed to a 6 and she wanted to admit me.
And so at 12:30am on Sunday, I was admitted. This would be the beginning of what was to date the longest night of my life. The nurse led us to our birthing suite. She took down my information on the board. The goal was to have a baby. She took samples of blood and urine. I was still being monitored for preeclampsia and they wanted to make sure I wasn't at risk. My blood pressure had been elevated when I came in. To me, that made sense. I was nervous and had adrenaline coursing through my veins. I was hooked up to the monitor again to monitor Baby's heart rate and the rate of my contractions. She suggested that if I wanted to walk, I could but I had to be on the monitor every half hour for a half hour. They needed to have an eye on Baby's heart rate as much as they could. And I walked. And walked. I think I walked miles around those hospital halls trying to get my contractions consistent.
After we were as settled as we could be and my IV line had been put in, I told Peter to go to sleep. There was no sense in both of us being tired for whenever Baby made his/her appearance. For the rest of the night until 4:30am, I walked the halls. It was tiring. It was boring. Each half hour seemed to drag on. My contractions were getting stronger each time as well so I was trying to remain positive about that. For each half hour I was on the monitor, I watched Scrubs on Netflix. It helped pass the time and keep my kind off the growing pain that occuroccured every few minutes. After a few episodes though, it got hard to watch seeing that it's a sitcom that takes place in a hospital.
At 4:30am, I was so tired, I wanted to sleep but the contractions were so strong, there was no way. The thought of sleep had been unthinkable at the beginning of the night. How was I going to be able to sleep now that my contractions were starting to be more consistent? The nurse came to check in on me and asked how I was. So I told her how I was feeling tired and in pain. She offered some medication so that I could get some rest. I discussed with her about what it would do to my contractions. She said I needed rest and I needed to sleep and not to worry. The medication made me drowsy and dizzy so I closed my eyes and went to sleep.
When I woke up, the midwife that had admitted me had come to see how I was doing, check the monitor for Baby's heart rate, my contractions, and my vitals. We looked at how my contractions were finally becoming more consistent and stronger. She then explained to me that she had stripped my membranes. I was taken aback because she had not told me she was doing this at the time so I was kind of annoyed with her. She seemed very pleased with herself. I was just annoyed because she had not communicated with me what she was doing during the last cervical exam. All I knew is it really, really hurt. She asked me if I felt like walking around again and I said I did so I began my ritual again.
Peter was awake when I came back from my first round. We talked about what the midwife had said. I know he thought she talked too loud. After all, he was trying to sleep. We decided that it was good for him to go home, freshen up, and get some breakfast. He promised he would be back before the morning service started. Our church has live stream on YouTube so we could watch the sermon online and not miss it. It was Sunday and I didn't want to miss any of the series. In the morning, we were currently working our way through the book of Exodus.
Peter went home and I kept walking. Some of the nurses would make comments like, "You're gonna walk the baby right out!". They didn't bother me. In the comments' own weird way, they were kind of encouraging. It's weird but it made me keep going around and around because I didn't know what anyone would say next.
The new midwife and OB on call came in at 8am. I also had a new nurse. When they all came into the room, they asked how I was. The midwife, named Maggie, couldn't believe that I was a 6. She looked at me quizzically. "How are you still talking and walking? Most women who are this far along are in pain and you're just treating this like any Sunday morning.", she said. I just looked at her and said, "I have no idea. This is my first baby. I don't know what's happening." I felt rather silly. I know she was wondering why I was there. I couldn't possibly be in real labor if I wasn't in any excruciating pain at this point. She said that she would come back later to check me again.
Now, she had come back once more after meeting all the new patients. Maggie gave me a cervical exam. Why does it hurt so much when a midwife does it? When an OB did it, it didn't hurt nearly as bad! I was a solid 6 and 80% effaced. She kept saying that my cervix was nice and stretchy. Again, she couldn't believe where I was. Her concerns were that I had contractions because the day before was hot and I was dehydrated. At this point, she said my contractions were about 10 minutes apart. Not close enough and not strong enough. I was so discouraged to hear this. She was thinking about sending me home. What?! You can't send me home, I thought. There were so many things going through my head. What did I do wrong? Am I supposed to be here? I don't want to go home without a baby. I would feel so foolish if I spent the entire night here and didn't come home without a baby. Not even that, I made PETER spend the entire night here! I remember just praying to God and saying, "What now, Lord? Your will be done, but what now?"
She gave me more time. I walked the halls some more. Yes, I walked more. I said to my nurse on the ways around that I didn't want to go home. It didn't feel right. How would I know when to come back when "real" labor started? My contractions were so much closer together when I walked -- every 3 or 4 minutes. The more I walked, the stronger they got. My nurse, Chris told me that I needed to be my own advocate and stand up for myself. I needed to voice my concerns to the midwife and tell her how I felt. I kept thinking of all the questions I wanted to ask.
Peter came back around 9am and I filled him in. I almost didn't want to admit to him that they were thinking of sending me home. I was so frustrated. I was tired of being pregnant. I was tired of not sleeping. I was tired of being swollen. I told the nurse that I was going to take a longer break from walking this time. I wanted to watch the sermon and I was exhausted from being up all night. Of course, I couldn't keep my mind on the sermon. I was talking with Peter about what had been discussed in his absence. He was very encouraging. Peter is good at encouraging me. He is always so positive when all I can see is the negative.
Just before 11, Maggie returned. She wanted to see if I had progressed. I was so nervous. If I hadn't progressed, I would essentially have to confront her about letting me stay and what my options were to get this baby out of me. She lowered the bed and I got into position. She did the exam. And then in disbelief, she said, "WOW. You're a 7!" I breathed a sigh of relief. Not only was the exam over but she said she had to keep me now. She said that it may be that I'm not in "real" labor but she was concerned that I wouldn't know when to come back. I was pretty far advanced now. There is no turning back. She had explained earlier that it was possible for the cervix to close up if it wasn't "real" labor. Obviously, I wasn't regressing. She then said she'd like to have my water broken to move things along. She was conservative so she called Dr. Brady, the OB, to get a second opinion. And yet another cervical exam. She said, "Oh yes, you're a 7. Let's break your water.", with no hesitation. She got out this chop stick looking thing and broke my water within the next minute. It went really fast! The feeling of a water breaking is the weirdest feeling I have ever had. Peter said that the mess from that alone was what was keeping him from having a home birth. I can't imagine cleaning up that mess.
The next few hours, things got real. I had REAL contractions. I was in REAL pain. I had to learn to breathe to get through my pain. I don't remember if I mentioned that I had never made it to a birthing class. I had to learn everything in real time. Obviously, I did alright. I breathed and focused on something other than the pain. At around 2pm, Maggie came back to check things out. Another cervical exam. I was an 8! I was still progressing. She said, "You're having a baby today!" I was so excited! And encouraged! And in pain! The weird thing about contractions though, is that the pain passes for a couple minutes. And then it comes back. And this is the point when I was so sure that it was gradually getting worse and worse. I didn't know how much of the real pain I could handle. I don't know what my pain threshold was. I was always thinking that the standard was being held to the type of pain I had with my gallbladder pain. Of course in this moment, I couldn't even begin to think about that let alone compare it. I think this was worse, except that it did come and go where with my gallbladder pain, it lasted for hours and hours.
So after thinking about it and some deliberation, I decided that it was time to ask for the epidural before it was too late. They said they could give it to me up to a 9. I was only an 8 so I was still okay to get it. It seemed like it took forever for the anesthesiologist to get there. But seriously, I know that these doctors have other patients to take care of. The world does not revolve around Kelli Sikma as much as sometimes I would like it to.
The Anesthesiologist came in. I liked him. I forget his name but he was really good at his job. Peter had wanted to coach me through the process but the doctor said no. He had picked up too many husbands off the ground who thought they could handle it. None of them had as strong of stomachs as they thought. In case you don't know, I hate needles. I did surprisingly well with this. Most of the reason is because I couldn't see and the other part of the reason is because I had bigger pains happening. So he numbed the area and Chris, my nurse coached me. As it would happen, I had a very strong contraction while he was implementing the epidural. My nurse was awesome. She helped me stay perfectly still. She helped me breathe. She encouraged me. Once was the catheter was inserted, the medication was flowing.
Soon after, the drip mechanism malfunctioned. Honestly, I was kind of afraid that the pain was going to start up again and they were going to have to redo the epidural. Of course I was worried about nothing. They fixed it, changed the batteries and we were golden. Or I was. As the anesthesiologist was fixing this, we discussed baseball. We had been keeping track of the Tigers game and I think we were winning. We were talking about sportsmanship and how many sports fans take the game way too seriously. And how in the world did Detroit fans end up in CA?
Maggie came and checked on me. She did another cervical exam. She was much more aggressive than before. She admitted that if I did not have the epidural, she would not be doing what she was doing because I would be screaming in pain. She again commented on the stretchiness of my cervix. She was pleased with that. I was an 8.5. I remember that she had wanted me to be repositioned on the bed. With the epidural, I could barely move my legs on my own. It was a really bizarre feeling. They felt really, really heavy. She told me to wait for the nurse and they would move me together. I just grabbed on the sides of the bed and pulled myself up. I pulled so hard that I smashed in the headboard. Oops. We had something to laugh about. Maggie was impressed with my strength and she even made note of it at the change of shift later that evening.
She decided to put me on pitocin as to get my contractions closer together now that they were finally strong enough and I had an epidural. As soon as they were finished with this, I got some much needed rest. I slept for a couple hours. After I woke up, I got a text from my mom asking if I was awake. I believe it was around 4pm. My parents were at the RYS convention in OR as committee members. She didn't usually text me on Sunday afternoon. I wasn't going to tell her that I was in the hospital until Baby was born. That was also given that Baby come in a timely fashion and as I had been in the hospital for about 18 hrs, I figured I should just let her know where I was. I called her and told her. And since we had told my parents, we called Peter's parents as well.
Things slowed down quite a bit for awhile. Contractions were happening consistently but I wasn't progressing as quickly as before, ironically. Peter stepped out again to go get some food. We continued with the Tigers game and then it was time for church again. In the evening, we were going through the book of Revelation. Again, I really just didn't want to miss any of the series! Seriously so good! And all the while, nurses were coming in and out checking my vitals and Baby's heart rate, my contractions. My BP was being taken every half hour.
At 8pm, there was a shift change. I was really bummed. I had really gotten to like Maggie and Chris. I was really hoping they would be around when Baby made his/her appearance. My next nurse Marion came in along with my next midwife, Jenny. I did my best to get rest. Jenny did a cervical exam. I was a 9 but even though Baby was head down, he/she was sideways whereas we wanted him/her to be face down. This went on for awhile. Face down, sideways, face down. I forget the OB's name but I didn't really care for her. She came in and told me my contractions were inadequate and left the room. As if I had control of my contractions. Sorry. I don't.
I really don't remember much from the time new staff came on until the time when I was complete and was still waiting for Baby to position him/herself face down. Baby also wouldn't drop meaning that he/she wasn't in my birth canal. I do know that I was finally complete at 11pm. There was another woman who was giving birth and so I was waiting for her so that I could get going. The fact that they made me wait was awesome! I'm not superstitious or anything but I was really excited when I found out he/she would be born on the 14th! (My birthday is March 14. Weird connection). During this time of waiting, another nurse came in to prep me. After being asked all day long if I knew the sex of the baby, she finally wrote on the board that I was having a surprise baby. I don't know why they call it a surprise baby. I was not surprised that I was having a baby. I had been pregnant for the past nine months. Obviously, I knew what she meant. Everyone who found out that we didn't know the sex of the baby thought it was the coolest thing ever. Not many people wait to find out the sex of their babies.
I also don't remember exactly when I started pushing, I just know that I pushed for 2.5 hours. My other favorite nurse, Jacqui, came to encourage me. She helped me start pushing and taught me how. I started with 3 pushes per contraction. I was watching the monitor for each contraction. The next nurse came in to take over. She could tell that I couldn't feel the contractions and that I was getting nowhere very quickly. She called the anesthesiologist so that he could adjust my epidural. He had the dose cut in half. We had to wait again until I could feel my contractions before I could continue pushing. This is where is got bad. It was painful in a way that the epidural could not help me.
The contractions were half as strong as they were before. That wasn't the part that was bothering me. The nurse had a finger in so that she could feel where I was pushing. That was annoying. Also, somewhere along the way, I ended up with hemorrhoids. They made every contraction feel so much more intense. And as the time went on, they hurt more and more. I had a probe inserted in order to monitor my contractions more accurately. First I was pushing 3 times per contraction. Once I got the hang of pushing, I started trying for four. I tried three different positions. I ended up on a birthing bar with a knotted sheet so I could play tug-of-war with myself. I kept going and Baby would drop a little and then regress. Drop and regress. He/she got low enough that the nurse could feel his/her head and able to put a probe on the head to monitor heart rate. I was getting frustrated. I knew that Baby wasn't coming very quickly. Nothing was inherently wrong but things were not progressing. I had it in my head that if I didn't push as much as I could, Baby would just regress. It felt like 2 steps forward and 1 step back. I kept going with 4 and then 5 pushes per contraction. The hemorrhoids just kept getting worse and worse. I could feel everything getting swollen and I wanted to stop so badly. I wanted to be done. Every time a new nurse walked in, there was a gasp. I was so swollen, everyone that entered the room was taken aback. Peter was really great during all this. He held my leg up whenever needed. He put is hand on my face which in an odd way was a great comfort to me. It let me know that he was there and that he wasn't going anywhere.
After 2.5 hours, Dr. Burg came in to discuss other options. She knew that I wasn't getting anywhere. I was so tired and kind of out of it. I found out later that the reason Dr. Burg wanted to move things along was because my pelvic arch was too narrow and my water had been broken for a long time. This left the baby at risk for infection. They kind of argued for a bit. The midwife wanted me to keep pushing. I had another hour and a half in her eyes. I had an epidural. Dr. Burg said I had a half hour. While she agreed with the midwife, she also knew that my water had been broken for over 18 hours. When she said I could push for another half hour, I asked if Baby would even be born within that time. They both said no. What were my other options? A c-section. Really? A c-section? Me? And why did she said options when there was only one option? I was so frustrated by this. I had been told most of my life that I had hips for childbearing. How was it possible that my pelvic arch was too narrow?
The decision was made. A c-section it was. There were two other women in the ORs at the time and then they needed to be cleaned and prepped. I remember saying, "Ok, can I be done?" I rolled onto my side and burst into tears. I felt like I was giving up. I knew that I had had the thought of giving up running through my mind for a long time. I was in pain. I hit the button for the epidural and then injected something into my IV for my pain. Jacqui came back to check on me. She asked what was wrong. She knew instinctively it seemed what I was feeling. She reminded me that the point of all this was to have a healthy baby. I still had a chance at that. That was the goal that had been written on the white board 24 hours earlier. I was given peace of mind and had somehow justified in my mind that this was okay.
The OB came back to go over the risks and paperwork before the c-section. I asked if I could have sutures instead of staples on my incision. I had heard a few horror stories about infections with staples. She said that Dr. Burg would do what was best but she would take my request into consideration. She did allow me to be stitched.
After the paperwork was all signed, we were ready to go. I was wheeled from my room to the OR. Peter was sent to another room to get suited up. I was in the OR being prepped by 6am. I had my head covered, I was on the operating table with my arms out, IVs with meds flowing. We all made the agreement that Peter would be the one to tell me what the gender of Baby was when he/she was born.
It went really quick. I heard them counting everything off. I was super loopy. I was so tired. Whatever meds they gave me was making me very drowsy. I wanted to stay awake. I NEEDED to stay awake! I was not going to fall asleep and miss the birth of my child! Very soon after Peter was by my side again. He was talking to me. The doctor was explaining that I wouldn't feel any pain but just pressure. I would know that they were doing something but it shouldn't hurt. They were right. It felt like pressure with no pain. I was okay with that. I also still wanted to go to sleep.
Before I knew it, my favorite memory of the entire ordeal was happening. The doctor said, "Okay Daddy, get ready. What's the gender of your baby?" Peter said, "It's a... girl?" I just remember smiling and being in a little disbelief. I had been convinced for the longest time that Baby was a boy. But now I knew I was wrong. She was a girl. Her name is Jenni. My little Jenni. The doctor popped her over the tent and said, "Hi Mom!". That was my first look and first memory of my little Jenni. Her eyes were wide open. So many emotions were pulsing through my being. I was happy, excited, scared, tired... Loopy. My first picture with her is ironic. My eyes are completely glazed over and her eyes are wide open and she is looking right at me. She knew I was her momma.
The process of closing me up actually took longer than it did for Jenni to be born. They counted off all their tools many times. I closed my eyes. The anesthesiologist kept reminding me to keep my wrist straight because my IV was getting tangled and inhibiting my meds from flowing properly.
In the recovery room, Jenni was given to me for our first skin-to-skin experience. I couldn't believe how beautiful she was (and is!). The way she looked at me with those eyes! It was an amazing feeling to have a little one look at me like that knowing that their life depended on me. It was also overwhelming. Then we taught her how to breast feed. She latched on her second try. I'll never forget the way she looked. Her big eyes! After she was fed, she got her first bath.
I remember being super hungry. I hadn't eaten since 12:30pm on Sunday. I wasn't allowed to eat after I got the epidural. I was also meant to be on a clear liquid diet for the next 24 hours.
Before I knew it, we were on our way to a postpartum suite where we would stay for the following three days. It was rough but every day was better than the last.
On July 17, my actual due date, we were taking our little Jenni home. She has been growing up so quickly before my eyes already. She is over a month old now. It took me a long time to come to terms with how Jenni was born. It was very emotional. This is the story as well as I can remember it. Hope you enjoyed reading it.
I am so thankful for the supportive and loving friends, family, and church family that God has blessed us with. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers throughout my pregnancy and now as I have become a new mother. Many of you have reached out to me in ways that I did not even imagine. Thank you for all the advice and encouragement. While being a mother feels so natural to me, I'm thankful for help.
May God give me strength to be the best mother I can be to Jenni.
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