Emma was born yesterday, August 6, at 5:10 a.m. weighing 6 lb, 5 oz and 19″ long. She decided to come 8 days ahead of her due date, 19 hours after her cousin Lucas and 5 hours before my grandmother’s funeral, which all seems somehow poetic and helped make a sad day a very happy one as well. (Lucas decided to join the world 7 weeks early, but he’s doing great so far!)
I’ll write more about the whole birth experience sometime soon, but all in all everything went really well. I woke up Sunday and spent the morning trying to pretend that everything felt normal. But ultimately around 2:00, I decided that either 1) I had suddenly become incontinent after avoiding that issue during pregnancy thus far or 2) my water had broken and was coming out in small amounts. I’ve heard so many stories of people thinking their water had broken when it was really just pee, but we dutifully headed to the hospital to find out. We checked in around 3 and by 4:30, we were ceremoniously informed that we wouldn’t be leaving that day!
Once your water breaks, doctors generally want the baby out within 24 hours to minimize the risk of infection and since mine was apparently already broken when I woke up that morning at 8:30, I’d already used up some of my “clock.” At first I was told I’d have to go on pitocin around 7:00 but I made enough progress on my own that I got a reprieve until midnight. Around that time, my contractions were starting to get pretty darn painful anyway so I asked for an epidural and the nurse got the pitocin ready to go as soon as the anesthesiologist was done. Turns out, an epidural was all I needed to relax enough to let my body do the rest. I went from 6 to 10 cm in only 2 hours and never had to go on pitocin — yay! But after that came the worst part — 2 hours of 1) having to then let the epidural wear OFF enough to be able to push (annoying) and 2) then being told NOT to push because the on-call doctor wasn’t there yet (MEGA annoying).
By the time Emma was born, I think most of the epidural had worn off because, well, it was not exactly fun. But the reward outweighed all the pain and I will never forget seeing the doctor hold up our little girl and then put her on my chest as she breathed (and cried) for the first time. Jose and I debated a lot about what she’d look like, but for now it looks like Jose’s genes totally won out. She’s got his squishy cheeks, cute squinty eyes, and a TON of dark hair. She’s still adjusting to the world I’m sure, but for a 1-day-old she is eating — and pooping! — like a champ.
Yep, I think we’ll keep her.