I can't believe Marco has been with us for over five months now! It seems like just yesterday we found out that we were expecting our surprise baby! These past five months have been amazingly chaotic, and we can't even remember what life was like before Marco joined our family!
I love reading birth stories. Everybody's experience is so unique and beautiful. Even my three experiences with giving birth have been different, and I love having these anecdotes to share with family, friends, and eventually my kids. I hope you enjoy reading about Marco's birthday!
The entire week leading up to my due date (February 16, 2018) was filled with days and nights where I thought baby #3 would come early. I’d have a couple hours’ worth of time-able contractions and then suddenly they’d stop, and for the rest of the day, I wouldn’t feel anything. I was beyond uncomfortable and becoming increasingly impatient. Even though we had an induction scheduled for Monday, February 19, I was hoping that he’d come in his own time, before the induction. Despite this being my third baby, this could’ve been the first time that I went into labor naturally after being induced the first two times. I really wanted to experience that rush of “this is it!” panic, for some reason.
I love reading birth stories. Everybody's experience is so unique and beautiful. Even my three experiences with giving birth have been different, and I love having these anecdotes to share with family, friends, and eventually my kids. I hope you enjoy reading about Marco's birthday!
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The entire week leading up to my due date (February 16, 2018) was filled with days and nights where I thought baby #3 would come early. I’d have a couple hours’ worth of time-able contractions and then suddenly they’d stop, and for the rest of the day, I wouldn’t feel anything. I was beyond uncomfortable and becoming increasingly impatient. Even though we had an induction scheduled for Monday, February 19, I was hoping that he’d come in his own time, before the induction. Despite this being my third baby, this could’ve been the first time that I went into labor naturally after being induced the first two times. I really wanted to experience that rush of “this is it!” panic, for some reason.
I was extra-prepared the entire month of February for us to go into early labor: I had Max’s school schedule delineated on a calendar, complete with specified “leave by” times for drop-off and pick-up; I had detailed “instructions” for the kids, describing bedtime routines, favorite meals, and doctor information (and a hand-drawn diagram of our baby monitor with instructions on how to use it); I labeled tupperware containers of leftovers in the fridge in case whoever was taking care of the kids wanted to eat/serve them. I had all my bases covered.
On Sunday, the day before the induction, we all went outside to play in the fast-melting snow that fell over the weekend. I thought for sure that baby would decide that all that running around was too much for him and he'd want to high-tail it out of there. I even had significant contractions overnight and thought that we'd be heading into the hospital before the induction arrival time, but just like always, the contractions stopped after about an hour.
Last day as a family of 4!
Since this baby was extra cozy inside my belly, he had to be kicked out on Monday, February 19, three days after my due date. Victor and I arrived at the hospital at 7 AM and got checked into Labor and Delivery. I changed into my hospital gown and my nurse, Barb, got me settled in the bed and hooked up to the contraction and heart rate monitors. She tried to get an IV into my left wrist, but just like my first two deliveries, it was a no-go (almost passed out again), so she just put the line in the crook of my right arm, my “Old Faithful” vein. By the time I was hooked up to Pitocin, it was close to 9 AM. The nurse practitioner from my OB/GYN practice came to check on me around that time since my OB was seeing patients; I was dilated between 2 and 3 centimeters (I had been 2 cm dilated for the past 2 weeks) and about 60% effaced. Victor and I settled in and started watching some shows on Netflix (I don’t even remember what we watched, to be honest. I do know we watched some of the Winter Olympics on TV).
My contractions started almost immediately once I was on the Pitocin, but they weren’t too terrible. Around 12 PM, though, they started getting pretty intense. At around 12:30 PM, my doctor came and broke my water; at that point, I was “a loose 3 cm” dilated, in my doctor’s words. With that news, I silently predicted we’d be welcoming baby around 5 PM; it was honestly a shot in the dark, but I had a hunch that we'd get to see his precious face by early evening.
I got my epidural around 1:30 PM, and my blood pressure dropped pretty significantly (that’s never happened before), so the anesthesiologist gave me some meds to bring it back up, after which I was fine and feeling no pain. Victor went to get some lunch and I watched some episodes of Parenthood and took a nap. A nurse came in to set up the delivery equipment during that time. My nurse, Barb, gave me a “peanut ball” to put between my legs to help bring the baby down. It was basically a yoga ball shaped like a peanut; I’d never heard of the thing before but Barb swore by it (I was told by the charge nurse that Barb is so experienced and such a trusted nurse in their unit that they often refer to her as their "on-site textbook"). Sure enough, within 2.5 hours, I was feeling some significant pressure, though it was more along my pelvic bone in the front as opposed to in the back, like I was used to. I wasn’t convinced that it was time to push because the pain and pressure was so different from my other two labors.
Another nurse came in to check on me at around 4 PM while Barb was busy with another patient. She had been watching our monitors at the nurse’s station and noticed that the baby’s heart rate was dropping a bit during my contractions. She decided to check me and found that I was 9 centimeters dilated! (Barb was right, that peanut ball WORKS!!!) They called my doctor over from her office and got everything ready for delivery.
Once my doctor was suited up and everything was ready to go, she told me to wait until my next contraction to start pushing. We waited..and waited...and waited...probably for close to 5 minutes before another contraction came...so weird! Once it started, I began to push and baby’s head came out almost immediately. My doctor said, “Oh my, I don’t think I can deliver through that,” which made zero sense to me at the time. She told me to stop pushing, then instructed me to do “half-pushes” for the rest of the delivery. He was completely out at 4:30 PM, before the contraction was over (just like I predicted!).
And this is where things get scary. They put my precious baby on my chest, and his head was completely blue. He wasn’t moving. He wasn't crying. He wasn’t even breathing. Barb tried to stimulate him by rubbing him vigorously with the receiving blankets but nothing happened. She took him over to the warming table and as she lifted him from me, I saw him shoot what looked like snot (but was probably amniotic fluid) out of his nose, so I thought he started breathing...but he didn’t cry. I kept thinking maybe this was normal, that it simply took some babies a little longer to get the hang of life outside the womb. At the warming table, they kept trying to stimulate him to no avail. Another nurse called out “We need a doctor in room 7! We’ve got a floppy baby!” After this announcement, Victor and I locked eyes (we had both been staring at our baby up until this point) and the fear was palpable between us. This was definitely not normal.
Several people were crowded around my baby at the warming table, so I couldn’t see what was happening. My doctor was tending to me, delivering the placenta and then stitching my tear. Despite the commotion around my baby, the room felt somber and silent. I think I was in shock and frightened to react in case something terrible happened; I didn’t cry or really say anything. I just kept silently praying that everything was ok, and time seemed to crawl at a snail's pace.
Victor hesitantly walked over to the warming table to see what was happening. The baby made some weak cries and started breathing on his own, and after an initial Apgar score of 1, he scored a 9 on his 5 minute Apgar test. The room began to burst with activity again once Marco started crying, and they weighed him and measured him. Barb asked me to guess how much he weighed and I guessed maybe 8 and a half pounds (that's what the ultrasound tech predicted if he made it to 40 weeks). They placed him on the scale and announced that he was 8 lbs 15 oz and 21 inches long! I was shocked that he was so big; both Max and Louisa weighed 7.5 lbs and just over 7 lbs, respectively. The doctor who ran in when the nurse called told us our baby looked great despite his scary entrance into the world. One nurse was charting everything on the computer and I heard Barb say, “I bagged him for a minute and a half.” Barb gave him “room oxygen” through a bag valve mask until he started breathing on his own. Until this point, I had no idea that he needed to be resuscitated at all. Once the baby was cleaned up and considered stable, they wrapped him up and gave him back to me. At this point, Victor and I were finally calm enough to tell our family that Marco Emilio had made his debut, so we made the necessary calls to share the great news. Everyone was especially curious if we had created another redhead...which we did!
Once everything calmed down, my doctor filled me in on what happened during the delivery. Once Marco’s head was out, she noticed the cord wrapped around his neck once. She told me that as long as the cord wasn’t wrapped too tight, they could typically try to “deliver through” the cord, meaning they move the cord away from the neck to allow the baby to be delivered safely through the loop. As she attempted to move the cord away, she felt two more tight loops beneath it; the cord was wrapped three times around his neck! At that point, she made the statement about not being able to deliver through it, so she quickly clamped the cord and cut it to get him out safely. We thank God every day for my OB's and Barb's swift actions during Marco's delivery, because had it not been for them, we might be telling a different story today.
As they were preparing us to move over to the Mother-Baby unit a few hours after Marco's birth, we were told that since Marco needed to be resuscitated for longer than one minute, he would need to be observed in the NICU for 6 hours, which was protocol for the hospital. They thought that perhaps since he was doing so well--nursing great, breathing fine--and had been with us for almost 3 hours, he might only need to stay in the NICU for 3 hours, but in the end, it turned out they needed to keep him for the entire 6 hours due to hospital policy. There were no immediate concerns that anything was wrong, but just to be safe, they wanted to monitor his oxygen levels, heart rate, and breathing. We didn't protest him being taken from us, but I was so distraught inside. I kept reminding myself that it was just protocol, that most likely everything was fine, and that in the off-chance that something was amiss, they'd notice it faster if he was in the NICU. A NICU nurse came and wheeled him out of our delivery room as we got our belongings together to be transferred to the Mother-Baby unit, and it took all I had in me not to cry.
Once we were settled in the postpartum room, my new nurse offered to bring me some food. My biggest craving after giving birth has always been a simple deli sandwich, ham or turkey, on soft bread, with some cheese and little bit of mayo. I avoided deli meats throughout all of my pregnancies (it's one of the foods you're not supposed to eat, even though I know many people still do), so enjoying one of those sandwiches was a long time coming. Despite being from the hospital cafeteria, it was delicious. I hadn't eaten since midnight the night before, so I was starving.
By the time I had finished my meal, I only had about an hour left before I had to go feed Marco in the NICU. I tried to rest, but I just felt incomplete. I had waited so long to meet my surprise blessing, and now I had to wait even longer to fully embrace him and enjoy him. Those couple of hours after he was born weren't enough for me. I ached to have him with me all the time. Even being with him in the NICU wasn't enough; he was attached to all kinds of wires and machines, so holding him to nurse was challenging because his sensors kept coming off and setting off alarms. But he was doing so well. His oxygen levels and heart rate were perfect, and he was happy sleeping there while he was being observed. I came to nurse him twice while he was in the NICU, and each time I lingered long after his feeding was finished so I could snuggle him and marvel at his perfect little face.
I kind of feel ridiculous for being so distraught about Marco's super-short stay in the NICU, especially since he was absolutely fine and was only there for observation. I know many people have to leave their babies in the NICU for much longer, and some even have to go home without their babies while they stay in the NICU to grow stronger and healthier. We are so blessed that Marco didn't need any extra intervention; he left us around 8 PM and was returned to us by 3 AM with a clean bill of health.
Once Marco was back with us in our room, I was finally able to relax...although I didn't get to rest much with a newborn in the room. None of that mattered, though. I was blissfully sleep-deprived and exhausted, and I had my baby right next to me. I slept for a few hours here and there, in between nursing, diapering, and snuggling my big boy. Victor's parents came to visit in the late-morning hours on Tuesday before going to our house to take over watching Max and Louisa so my sister could come meet her new nephew (she was up from Mississippi to help with the kids while Marco was born; she arrived the previous Thursday, February 15--the day before my due date--and was scheduled to leave early in the morning on Wednesday). Children under the age of 12 were not allowed to visit the hospital due to heightened flu concerns, so Max and Louisa had to wait a bit longer to meet their baby brother, so they had to settle for a FaceTime introduction.
Thankfully, Marco has shown no signs of any complications as a result of his tumultuous entrance into the world. We're hoping that continues to be the case as he gets older. Our pediatrician assured us that since he did not need any further intervention beyond what was done in the delivery room, he likely will have no issues moving forward. He hope and pray daily that this rings true in the future. And to this day, I still cringe whenever I catch myself or someone else describing anything with regard to Marco as "floppy," whether it be his flailing arms and legs, his head when he was still developing his neck muscles, or the rolls of skin on his chin. That word takes me right back to the delivery room, desperately searching for signs of life and vitality in our newborn, who very well could have never made it home with us. For this reason, I continue to stress that we are finished having babies...I don't ever want to experience anything like that again, and I'd rather not tempt fate by giving it another go. Victor keeps thinking we should go for 4. I guess only time will tell. Things are pretty close to perfect right now, if I'm being honest.
Once we were settled in the postpartum room, my new nurse offered to bring me some food. My biggest craving after giving birth has always been a simple deli sandwich, ham or turkey, on soft bread, with some cheese and little bit of mayo. I avoided deli meats throughout all of my pregnancies (it's one of the foods you're not supposed to eat, even though I know many people still do), so enjoying one of those sandwiches was a long time coming. Despite being from the hospital cafeteria, it was delicious. I hadn't eaten since midnight the night before, so I was starving.
By the time I had finished my meal, I only had about an hour left before I had to go feed Marco in the NICU. I tried to rest, but I just felt incomplete. I had waited so long to meet my surprise blessing, and now I had to wait even longer to fully embrace him and enjoy him. Those couple of hours after he was born weren't enough for me. I ached to have him with me all the time. Even being with him in the NICU wasn't enough; he was attached to all kinds of wires and machines, so holding him to nurse was challenging because his sensors kept coming off and setting off alarms. But he was doing so well. His oxygen levels and heart rate were perfect, and he was happy sleeping there while he was being observed. I came to nurse him twice while he was in the NICU, and each time I lingered long after his feeding was finished so I could snuggle him and marvel at his perfect little face.
I took this photo after one of his feedings in the NICU
I kind of feel ridiculous for being so distraught about Marco's super-short stay in the NICU, especially since he was absolutely fine and was only there for observation. I know many people have to leave their babies in the NICU for much longer, and some even have to go home without their babies while they stay in the NICU to grow stronger and healthier. We are so blessed that Marco didn't need any extra intervention; he left us around 8 PM and was returned to us by 3 AM with a clean bill of health.
Once Marco was back with us in our room, I was finally able to relax...although I didn't get to rest much with a newborn in the room. None of that mattered, though. I was blissfully sleep-deprived and exhausted, and I had my baby right next to me. I slept for a few hours here and there, in between nursing, diapering, and snuggling my big boy. Victor's parents came to visit in the late-morning hours on Tuesday before going to our house to take over watching Max and Louisa so my sister could come meet her new nephew (she was up from Mississippi to help with the kids while Marco was born; she arrived the previous Thursday, February 15--the day before my due date--and was scheduled to leave early in the morning on Wednesday). Children under the age of 12 were not allowed to visit the hospital due to heightened flu concerns, so Max and Louisa had to wait a bit longer to meet their baby brother, so they had to settle for a FaceTime introduction.
(my sister took this photo of Max and Louisa as they waited for us to answer their FaceTime call)
We were told that we would be discharged by noon on Wednesday, so Victor and I set out to enjoy the last few hours alone with our newest baby. Victor had to be in court for work on Wednesday morning, so he went home early to shower and drop off most of our things while I stayed with Marco in the hospital until discharge time. By 11:30 AM, we were headed home with our newest bundle of joy. Max and Louisa were thrilled to meet their baby brother and were immediately taken with him.
Max chose Marco's "going home" outfit.
Thankfully, Marco has shown no signs of any complications as a result of his tumultuous entrance into the world. We're hoping that continues to be the case as he gets older. Our pediatrician assured us that since he did not need any further intervention beyond what was done in the delivery room, he likely will have no issues moving forward. He hope and pray daily that this rings true in the future. And to this day, I still cringe whenever I catch myself or someone else describing anything with regard to Marco as "floppy," whether it be his flailing arms and legs, his head when he was still developing his neck muscles, or the rolls of skin on his chin. That word takes me right back to the delivery room, desperately searching for signs of life and vitality in our newborn, who very well could have never made it home with us. For this reason, I continue to stress that we are finished having babies...I don't ever want to experience anything like that again, and I'd rather not tempt fate by giving it another go. Victor keeps thinking we should go for 4. I guess only time will tell. Things are pretty close to perfect right now, if I'm being honest.
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