Before she came…
Exactly a week before Georgia's birth, I started having frequent, albeit irregular, contractions. My doctor did an exam, said I was already starting to dilate and predicted the baby would be born within the week.
My sweet mom changed her flight and arrived on Wednesday, November 2, all of us anticipating Georgia's arrival any moment. The very next day, I went in for another exam. I was still dilated and this time 100% effaced. The doctor said that if my water and labor didn't start before Saturday, he would help me get going and meet me at the hospital Saturday morning at 8:00 a.m.
She's coming…
Although contractions continued on Thursday and Friday (November 3 and 4), my water never broke. My mom with Samuel and Ruth on Saturday morning, Stephen and I left for the private hospital here in Antigua.
When we arrived the doctor confirmed that I was already nearly 4 cm and that the contractions the past day were doing their job. He broke my bag of waters around 8:20 a.m. and the labor continued to progress.
Stephen and I were by ourselves in a very comfortable, nice labor room. I wasn't hooked up to beeping machines or lots of needles, or confined in any way. This was very different from arriving at the hospital in the US! Between contractions, Stephen and I read, talked, and even played half a game of Scrabble. We joked about what a "calm" morning it was, just the two of us. I walked the halls, I lay down, I sat up, and I labored. After a Guatemalan hospital cafeteria lunch, the doctor checked me again. In those morning hours I had progressed to the magic number of nearly 7 cm and was ready for my beloved epidural.
Still coming…
So remember how calm the morning was? Well, come 2:00 pm., everything changed!! I was walking the halls when a nurse came up to me and asked me to get on a stretcher. She informed me that I was going to be moved to the delivery room and the anesthesiologist was there to start my epidural. I told her I was capable of walking and that the stretcher wasn't really necessary. But she insisted. Let's mark that as "very different and kinda weird thing #1."
As soon as I was wheeled into the delivery room, my husband disappeared. Literally. I had no idea where Stephen was and why he wasn't walking behind me. At first I started to laugh, thinking how funny it was that things were turning strange so fast. When Stephen still didn't show up a few minutes later, the laughter turned to tears. I realized I never had really asked about protocol for the husband in the delivery room and started to worry that he wouldn't be there. I was contracting and crying and laboring and getting more and more nervous. I kept asking about him and when he would be there. After about 20 minutes he finally shows up, dressed in hospital scrubs and a mask. I started to laugh again.
While I was getting set up in the delivery room, Stephen was forced to completely change his clothes and scrub in. Mark this now as "very different and kinda weird thing #2," considering that for both Sam and Ruth, I labored and delivered in the same room with Stephen wearing jeans and tennis shoes. But whatever, he was with me.
Then the epidural came and my body progressed pretty quickly to nearly 9 cm. The doctor said that happens when you give the epidural at the right time and your body relaxes for the home stretch.
But the thing is, even with the epidural, I was very aware of the labor. I knew exactly when each contraction was coming, how long they were, and even was aware of how intense they were. When I was close to 9 cm, I almost started feeling too much for my liking. If you know me, you know that I deal with pain by crying. Bring on 9 cm and the water works. I was bawling, I hurt. Apparently, I also forget how to speak Spanish when I'm nervous and hurting. I had no idea what anyone was saying.
Also, I haven't mentioned yet "very different and kinda weird thing #3." Once I was in the delivery room, the pediatrician, the anesthesiologist, and my obgyn never left my side. It was me, the three male doctors, my husband, and one female nurse always there. Looking at me. Watching me. Waiting for something to happen. Speaking a lot of Spanish I didn't understand. Stephen told me later that they were joking and talking and that I occasionally laughed a long with them. Really? I did?
Then my doctor said he needed to help me get to the home stretch. My guess is that I was tensing up so much towards the end that mind wasn't allowing my body to finish the job. Then, something went into an IV in my arm and it burrrnnned. Now I'm crying about my arm, begging for more epidural medicine, and not understanding a damned word anyone is saying.
She came!
And then she's on her way. All of a sudden I start to understand, "Now I'm going to count, 1, 2, 3, and then I want you to push." Did I speak Spanish again? Oh, no, that wasn't it. My obgyn was kind enough to start speaking to me in English. Stephen is holding my hand, telling me to breathe, telling me he sees her head, telling me she has hair. And then, she's here.
And she's huge, and she's beautiful, and she's perfect.
The pediatrician takes her right away, introduces her to me, says something about "besos" and then takes her off to check her out.
I tell Stephen to go with the baby, while I pass the placenta and take a breather. I feel so proud, and so happy, and so glad that I did it. We did it. I had a perfect, healthy baby in a foreign country, in a foreign hospital, with foreign doctors, and everything went well.
Praise be to God. Welcome to this world, Georgia Kate.
