Five years ago yesterday, I went into the hospital to get a dose of prostaglandin to help my cervix to relax, so that I could have my first baby. My original due date was March 25 and I treated it just like I do all my other goals--with certainty. I told myself that I was going to have this baby on the 25 of March because that is what the doctor had told me was my due date, that was the date the ultrasounds said was right and perhaps because I was born on my own due date I thought my daughter would come with as much punctual courtesy as I had.
Well, they administered that first dose and I had to lie there for an hour with no book to read, no TV to watch, nothing to do but wonder why my back had started hurting after a few minutes. After the hour, I left the hospital and headed to the house. My grandma and mom arrived shortly after. My mom had driven from Missouri and stopped in Colorado to pick up my grandma (her mom) and then headed over to Provo.
My mom took some cute shots of me and what felt like my huge, pregnant belly. We soon picked up Derek from school at BYU and headed to dinner at Red Robin. The whole time my back had been hurting, but I figured that's how it is as you near the end of your pregnancy, you're just uncomfortable.
After dinner, we went shopping for nursing bras because I had forgotten to buy one and they were going to be needed by April 1, my scheduled induction date. After bra shopping, we dropped off a set of tires to my grandma's accountant and then headed to the hospital, where I was scheduled to get my second dose of prostaglandin.
Well, the nurse that checked me in looked at me and hooked me up to the monitors and told me that I was not going to be leaving because my contractions were coming along well enough that I would have my baby sometime soon. Contractions? That's what all that pain in my back was? I never did end up having a single contraction in my front. All back labor. My grandma, mom and Derek all got comfortable and we waited for whatever would happen next.
Not much later, the contractions were measuring off the monitor, so I requested some drugs only to be told that they would need to call my doctor to make sure that was okay. Huh? I want some pain medication. I'm telling you it's okay, why does he have to okay it? Well, his policy was that no drugs were to be administered to his patients without his consent. Fine if your doctor will answer any of the three numbers he's provided for the hospital. (One of those numbers was a pager he claimed to sleep with.) After waiting for an hour for him to return a call, Derek had to sign some form saying the hospital held no liability in case administering the drugs had some ill foreseen consequences.
A few hours later, I received an epidural. The epidural was overdone and so I could no longer move my body at all from the waist down. It sounds great for the pain, but you don't realize how the concept of pushing really requires feeling. I also was held off from pushing for an hour while they attempted to locate the doctor again for the delivery. Remember, he's the one that scheduled me to go to the hospital on the 30 of March to begin the whole process and then he never answered his phone once.
Finally, another doctor was located. When I began pushing, Ryanna's heartrate immediately dropped. With each push--the same effect. The doctor told me that he was going to get the forceps. Three pushes later and one yank with the forceps and my beautiful daughter came into the world.
The umbilical cord had been wrapped around her neck causing the distress when I pushed. Other than that, she was completely fine.
Now, it's five years later and I can hardly believe it's been that long. She has brought so much happiness to my life. She is so beautiful inside and out. She has taught me patience. She has taught me unconditional love. Forgiveness because it's the right thing to do...because you love someone no matter what. She is not only my daughter, she's my best friend.
First smile caught on camera!
Visiting cousin Talia.
Derek rode the bus to school everyday and she insisted she was riding with him this morning, so she did.
That is some good Kool-Aid.
Three generations carving pumpkins. Owen would come a couple of weeks later.
Like the rest of the family, Owen adored her from the very beginning.
Uncle Keith came to visit.
The birthday girl with another fabulous Alacey cake.