Elisabeth's Birth

Nineteen years ago, I was 8 days past my due date and feeling awful. I was in tears that morning and called my Dr.'s office. They told me to come in so they could check and see what was going on with me. I am one of those people who have contractions every 5-10 minutes for days/weeks prior to delivery. Christina was 5 and Christopher was 2 at the time.

I called Michael to tell him about the appointment. While on the phone, Christina informs me that Christopher has opened the bubbles and was carrying them around. He toddled into the room with the soapy liquid splashing. I told him to hand me the bubbles and he tried to turn and run. I caught hold of his arm that didn't have the bubbles and held onto him. (This was the days when the phones were attached by cords and you had to stay right next to the phone.)

In the seconds it took me to say good-bye and hang up the phone, Christopher was pulling to get away from me. As the phone clicked on the receiver, I snatched the bubbles away and Christopher began crying. He wasn't crying over the bubbles. He said his arm hurt. I held him and tried to soothe him, but almost immediately I knew something was wrong. I phoned his Dr. and was able to get an appointment an hour before mine. (It's too bad kids don't realize you don't mess with an overdue, very pregnant mom.) But I felt even more awful.

I phoned a friend asking if she could watch my kids after I took Christopher to the doctor. She said of course, so off we went. It didn't take very long for the doctor to diagnose my son. His elbow was popped out of place. Hot tears stung my eyes. I felt like the world's worst mother. It didn't take much to fix it. She pulled it and twisted a bit and it was all better. I was ever so thankful I had an understanding doctor. She joked with me and told me about when her own sister had this happen, how she called her long distance to try to have her explain how to pop it back into place. She'd given her sister instructions and could hear the child screaming in the background as she attempted to put it back. The sister couldn't do it, so was going to a doctor. Later she called laughing, saying she was trying to fix the wrong arm. I was amused, but still felt bad.

Christopher got a lollipop and was happy, so I dropped him and Christina off at my friend's and went to my appointment. After the usual, my doctor examined me. He asked me if I'd been having contractions. I said yes, the same ones I'd been having all week. "Well, you are dilated to 6cm., so I want you to just go to the hospital." I was shocked. I explained that I needed to pick up my kids, but he insisted I go straight to the hospital.

I arrived at the hospital at 3:30p.m., just a few minutes after Michael did. (Okay, I didn't drive straight there. I stopped at my girlfriend's to explain to make sure she could keep my children. Remember, this was before cell phones.)

I was hooked to the monitors and also to Pitocin. I couldn't tell that anything had changed and I didn't feel like I was in labor. Twice, the nurses "lost" the baby's heartbeat. I wasn't sure what that meant. My doctor showed up around 6:30p.m. He broke my water, said he was going to have dinner, then come back and deliver the baby. Fine.

As soon as he left, the contractions became very painful. (You know, I finally figured out that I like that bag of water intact. It is a very nice cushion for both me and baby and from here on out I was not going to let that be taken away too early.) A half-hour later, I was losing it. They called for the doctor to come back and he very quickly began changing into his scrubs and telling me not to push. It didn't much matter if I pushed, she was going to come anyway. I watched the face of a student doctor, who was standing there ready at the foot of my bed. I could tell he was getting worried that he might have to step in and catch her. My doc turned around just in time to deliver her.

The cord was wrapped around her neck twice, and it also had a knot in it. (Somewhere I have a pic, and if I find it, I'll have to post it.) That was why they lost her heart beat. The remarkable thing was my Dr. announced that she had the longest cord he'd ever seen. God is good!

Elisabeth weighed 6lbs, 13 oz. (I'll see if I can scan a photo in, what is a birth story without a picture?)

Happy Birthday Elisabeth!





(Note: I intended to write this on 2/23, Elisabeth's 19th birthday, but that was the day Michael had his angiogram,and the next week became a blur. So I am doing this now.)