Aria Patricia: A Beautiful Melody of Noble Estate

Dear Aria,

It has been the greatest honor to carry you for 9 months and feel you grow inside me. You are worth all the morning sickness, pain, stretch marks, sleepless nights, roller coasters I didn't ride, and sushi I didn't eat. My heart is filled to capacity with love for you as you enter our lives on the outside. Your father and I are just completely smitten and thank God every day for blessing us with such a beautiful baby girl. Kim Perez took some fabulous newborns of you but I will post them later. For now, we'll stick with the unprofessionals telling the story of your first couple days.

Love, Mommy

For anyone not interested in all the details...you've been warned.
Why are you even reading this far anyway?

Also, some of these photos are terribly unflattering...but I make no apologies because I had just given birth. I had no idea how true it was when other women told me that delivering a child leaves you looking the worst you've ever looked ever. No one really explained to me the extent that your body just blows up and turns alarming shades of pale. Oh well, my thought-process leads me to decide that even these photos are worth preserving in the pensieve should Aria ever want to see what I looked like that day, and the couple days after. I have no shame.

Tuesday of the same week I had a false alarm. It was a stupid false alarm. Many women tell stories of having false labor contractions before the big day. That did not happen to me. No. My false alarm entailed confusion as to whether or not I had peed myself in the middle of the night or had sprung a leak in my water. I was pretty sure of what had happened. During my last sonogram, the ultrasound lady had confirmed that my baby's head was surely pressed against my bladder and it was no surprise to her that I was peeing every 10 minutes. But, since I had just read the chapter in the baby book about what to expect when you feel a trickle, I got up the next morning and called the doctor to ask. Conversation went as follows:
"So you think you may have sprung a leak?"
"No, I don't think so...but I'm not sure."
"Well you are 38 weeks so you are going to have to go get a rupture exam at Labor and Delivery."
"Wait, no! Can't I just come in to your office and get checked?"
"This late in the game you need to be at the hospital, just in case."
So off we went for a painful internal and assurance that I had indeed wet the bed."

The rest of the week was pretty awful. I wasn't sleeping at all. I waited every day all through the day to take three tylenol pms before laying down at night, just so that I could lightly dose between incessant bathroom trips. When I wasn't peeing, my legs and back were horribly strained from however she was sitting in there and it was completely impossible to get comfortable. I was starting to get a little depressed because I still had not felt any contractions and I had been hoping with being 2-3 cms something might start happening. My mom had delivered both myself and Kailyn 2 weeks early so I kind of just had it in my head that my pregnancies would go the same way. They say you take after your mom and I was really banking on that. (Good thing God was merciful =)) Another reason I was super stressed about going early was Stephen's pending work schedule during my actual due date. There was a good chance he would be an hour and a half away harvesting in the Hamptons when he got my call and I was terrified of him not being around.

Well, Saturday night, as per usual, Stephen and I sat down to eat dinner and watch netflix. I was having some light cramps and, for kicks, told Stephen to time them. They were like 7-8 minutes apart and were a total joke. I had pretty much given up on going into labor that night, so we lived life as if I really wasn't going to. We were totally engrossed in Netflix until 12; I popped my TPMs, and we got into bed. I began my uncomfortable cycle of tossing, turning, getting up to pee. Stephen had been having some allergies, so he too took some drowsy medicine.

An hour later at 1 am Stephen got up to go to the bathroom and I had a real contraction. Reeling in pain I finally was able to turn over to get up and my water broke...for real. There was no question. I yelled for Stephen and we were in the car and on the way. Contractions were coming 4 minutes apart and I was doing well with them. Thanks to birthing classes I was determined to stay on top of the pain and work through. In between contractions I calmly called both moms who had begun bringing their phones to bed with them and told them it was the night, assured them that they should stay home and not leave yet because I didn't know how long labor would be (they didn't listen), and continued laboring. 4 minutes was a nice break. I could do it.

Nope, wrong again.

When we got to the hospital my contractions began coming one on top of the other. As soon as one was over I was beginning a new one. I was already exhausted, running on no sleep, and we had both taken drowsy medicine. Only 4 cms and not knowing how many hours were to come, I was fearful there would be no energy left to push. So after 2 hours of trying, I caved and got the epidural.

They asked Stephen to leave the room. The nurse had to hold my arms while I leaned forward and labored through contraction upon contraction as the anaesthesiologist administered those heavenly drugs. And within 5 minutes of him finishing up, Stephen and I went to sleep for a longer span than I had been able to sleep in my own bed for weeks. My favorite part about the epidural experience was that I could feel my baby moving the entire time after. Prior to the epi, I could not focus on what she was doing each time a contraction hit, but without the contraction pain I could feel every wiggle and turn, and she continued to progress beautifully. I had been worried that the drugs would make my labor longer. But I have absolutely no complaints. It was wonderful sleeping until the doctor came in periodically and told me I was now at 6 cms...8cms...9.5... From water breaking until delivery was 8.5 hours, and I was pretty happy with that.

I did not have my usual OB for my delivery, but this was another blessing in disguise. I had been worried this might happen. My doctor had said the likelihood of him not being there to deliver me was very small. However, here we were and there was another man on call. Turns out, he had been my doctor's mentor during his residency and I absolutely loved him. He had a very calming bedside manner that immediately put me at ease in his care. I also have nothing but praise for every nurse that attended me at Winthrop. There was something extra special about each of them. Karen, the nurse who was with me for delivery was a total godsend. I also was asked early in my labor if I would be ok with a nursing student coming in and watching. I hesitated a little but, being an avid Grey's Anatomy fan, said that I understood the need to learn. =P I am so happy I said yes because Abbey was the sweetest presence in the room and was very attentive and encouraging to me. She told me after that it was a beautiful experience for her and that she was hoping to become a labor and delivery nurse.

There is one thing that first time pregnant women fear more than anything else. It isn't the contractions. It's not pushing out the baby. It isn't a C-Section. It's the probability of pooping on the table.
I voiced this fear of humiliation when Karen came in and she told me the one thing that would make me stop worrying. "You have to poop on the table. If you don't, you won't have a vaginal delivery." Well, when phrased like that, who could argue?...Not that when pushing time came it was even anywhere in my mind.

When the time finally came that I could push, I had never been so ready for anything in my life. Even though I had the epi, the pressure to push was always there. That doesn't go away. I felt the need from the moment I went into labor and it steadily grew over time until it became unbearable. That point was when the doctor said..."Ok, you're at 9 and a half. Let's say another twenty minutes," and he left to go check on another patient. That half hour felt like 3 years. When it was finally time I pushed for an hour and a half, and then she was here, at 9:25am Sunday morning, September 20th, 2015. Stephen can better tell this part of the story because all I knew was focus and rest. I have an amazing husband. I never could have done it without him there.

It is worth noting that he had forgotten the part during birthing class when we learned about baby taking her first breath. Once the head comes out, the doctor politely asks the mom to stop pushing (horrible, horrible) so that he can suction the baby's nose. She does not take her first breath until the shoulders emerge and she is suctioned so that the first deep breath is clean. Stephen forgot this important piece of information and thought our daughter was dead when her head emerged. Longest 30 seconds of his life, but he was able to mask his horror well and kept saying, "She's beautiful! You're doing great, babe!" "She has so much hair!"

The next wonderful part is history. Winthrop is all about skin-on-skin which I love. After Aria fully emerged she was placed directly on my chest and wasn't moved for a full hour to be washed and dressed. Stephen cut the cord and we both melted into blissful, deliriously exhausted, indescribable emotion.

Both sets of our parents had been pacing all night in the waiting room. They came in during skin on skin. It was notably special for me to watch my mom take in the event. Seeing her first baby give birth to her own first baby must be quite a powerful revelation. Various moments throughout my recovery process I would just look at my mom, holding my child and smiling down at her. I am so proud that Aria will carry Patricia as her middle name. God creates such beautiful circles of life here on earth.  One memory I will keep close forever is that of my mom helping me shower in the hospital. Sore and unsteady, I looked down at my body, totally wrecked, and looked back up at my mom. I asked, "Mom, when you were in the hospital who helped you shower?" She answered, no one, and that made me sad. But, it also made me grateful to have a mom full of so much grace and love. I look forward to being there to help Aria shower after having her first baby.

Finally meeting our daughter was a feeling that no one could have conveyed to us before we experienced it ourselves. For me, it was like meeting a dear pen-pal who I had written to for months and grown to love and cherish without having met face to face. I had no idea what it would feel like to actually hold and look at her. She was more beautiful than I had ever imagined, but so familiar at the same time.
For Stephen, the journey through my pregnancy was full of fear and uncertainty. It is very different for a man who has never been a father to prepare himself. He described it in comparison as watching my steady incline towards motherhood, watching me experience her movement and grow with her, and feeling somewhat on the outside. For him, it felt like going from ground zero to the sky, windswept in a tornado of understanding and acceptance all at once. Watching him hold her in the hospital, seeing his love for her, and the peace that washed over his countenance completely took my breath away.

To wrap this up, it is safe to say that both of us immediately fell head over heels in love with our baby girl. Parenthood comes at 1am when you've resigned yourself to the idea that it will never happen. You can't prepare yourself. You can't be ready. It comes and brings with it a whole host of feelings you didn't even know existed. But when it finally arrives and you stare down at a tiny perfect little face you've spent 9 months carrying and loving, life makes a whole lot more sense. We have met parenthood, and we will never be the same.