Kaiya’s Birth

So I’m soundly sleeping at about 4:00 AM on January 11th, 2005. I think I was dreaming of clowns with funny hats (the circus variety, not the type you probably work with) and they were offering me a new job. They were also juggling plates and leading around small poodles on brightly colored leashes. Many of my favorite things. Except poodles. I’m not a huge fan of poodles, especially the big ones that get shaved into all sorts of crazy poofy shapes. They look ridiculous. Anyway, I digress…

All of a sudden, I’m jarred from my peaceful dream by the sound of my wife’s voice calling “Christian!” as she lie in bed beside me. A nudge and a second call of “Christian” all but assured the clowns were completely gone and she had my attention. I figured she wanted some water or wanted me to take the dog out or something, neither were not unusual requests at this hour and given her state of being 36 weeks pregnant.

I have to admit though, I wasn’t prepared for what she said.

“Christian, I think my water just broke”.

Ok, I’m awake… painfully awake.

To verify, Sharon gets up and walks to our bathroom. All of a sudden, an audible “splash” could be heard on the bathroom linoleum. Sure enough, amniotic fluid it is. We both stare dumbfounded for a moment at the puddle.

I suggest she hop into the shower and clean herself up while I get us ready to go to the hospital which she then does. I get dressed and grab her maternity bag we packed a couple days earlier. Luckily, the prior couple weekends we’d spent preparing for Kaiya (her crib and bassinette are set up, the stroller is put together, car seat is installed, clothes are all pre-washed in the necessary gentle detergent, hospital bag is packed, etc.) so that this event didn’t completely catch us off guard. Sure there’s plenty to still do and Sharon hasn’t even put in her maternity leave paperwork to the office yet, but hey, you try telling that to Kaiya. Evidently, 4 weeks early, she’s ready and she didn’t feel compelled to consult with us on the matter.

We get in the car and I drive us to the hospital. In our haste, we actually got off at the wrong exit and it took us both a moment or two to figure out, “hey, they moved the hospital on us”. Not really, but it made us feel less stupid to phrase it that way as we headed further south one more exit on Route 5. Conveniently enough, her first contractions started in the car on the way over. Mother nature seems to know what it’s doing.

To the Hospital

We pull up to the drop off point where I figured I’d put Sharon in a wheelchair and have her admitted. Wrong. There’s construction going on in the evenings and you can’t get in the main entrance after hours any more. We had to flag down a security guard to let us in a side door and we then get admitted to the maternity wing. All is good.

The nurses verified that her water broke and checked her dilation: 1cm. Ok. We’re nice and early. Good. Sharon requested an epidural be ready when the time was right pretty much as she walked in the door.

Hours pass, the contractions are getting more and more painful. She’s at about 3-4cm. The anesthesiologist is with another mother assisting with a cesarean so he wasn’t quite available for the epidural yet, but some narcotic pain killer (I forget the name) was given to her to take the edge off. Sharon is instantly buzzed and the pain is slightly better, but not quite what she was looking for.

About an hour after this, the anesthesiologist comes in to administer the epidural. I removed myself from the room (as I’m a bit of a weak stomach when it comes to these sorts of things) while she had it done and was stabilized. I used the brief respite as an opportunity to taste the wares at the cafeteria. I wish I hadn’t.

Anyway, over the next few hours, things were progressing fine. With the epidural, Sharon was a whole new person. The pain was mostly gone and she could even take a nap for a few hours. She got to about 8-9cm at about 4PM PST (roughly 12 hours of labor) however she developed some sharp back pains probably due to being in a bed of some sort or another for nearly 24 hours. Massages from me helped, but not enough.

To make matters worse at this point, there were still a few issues with her not dilating fully and there being some inflammation of the cervix that was actually making her reverse progress. The doc suggested a light dose of Ptosin (a drug meant to stimulate contractions and speed the progress). This course provided the solution that ultimately lead to the pushing part.

Our labor nurses by this point had switched shifts again and our new nurse helped start the pushing process while they called Dr. Hoppe to come in. Sharon’s pushing was so strong, in only 2 cycles, Kaiya’s head was a the critical point and they had to actually stop their progress, lest the baby be born before the doc could even get to the room.

Five minutes and 2 more push cycles later, Kaiya popped out all at once. I think it was successful at least in part because I was one of the 2 “leg holders” as well as the push “counter”. To recap, the whole process from water breaking at 4AM to birth just before 10PM was about an 18 hour ordeal.

Now, let me clear something up. I was a semi-reluctant participant in this labor process. Yeah, I had been convinced I needed to be in the room for support. Sure, it was a beautiful thing. But when it comes down to it, I’m a bit of a wimp when it comes to needles, blood, inflammation, bodily fluids and other things that tend to exist in copious amounts in hospitals. I wouldn’t have at all objected if someone suggested I hang out in the waiting room passing out cigars to anyone who happens to pass by.

As it happened, Sharon and I had something of an agreement. I stay up near her head, hold her hand, help her breathe and the tent that blocks the business end of the process from my view (as we always see on the Discovery channel or ER is in place) will ensure that I don’t pass out or do or say something too stupid.

Well, in reality the “tent” didn’t exist. How could TV have steered me so wrong? I might write a letter to the Discovery Channel and ER about that to express some grievance over their misrepresentation of birthing reality. And when the nurse said “Here, you’re going to take this leg” it wasn’t really phrased as a question per say. So I did as I was told and played my small role in the process (besides the role that started nine months ago).

After Kaiya arrived, the doc asked if I wanted to cut the cord. Not one to press my luck given my participation so far, I suggested that I thought she might do a better job of it. I mean really, do we want my daughter running around with some jaggedy-assed belly button because her father is something of a tard with sharp objects? No.

So I’ll state the obvious. If you look at the day one pictures, Kaiya is the spitting image of her mother. Broad nose, full lips, dark hair, dark eyes (though still tinged with blue as most babies are). It’s as if the full Chinese genes completely drowned out my Euromutt genes through some crazy trickery. I’ll bet it’s all of the crazy herbs and vitamins she’s been taking throughout her pregnancy. In any event, over the following two days, the overwhelming Chinese domination over her looks has softened a bit (either that or my ego is playing games with my mind). So I feel a little better that my DNA is in there somewhere. 🙂

HAVE TO GET THE PICTURES OUT OF THE CMS.