November 5, 2007

I checked into the hospital on Monday, and got settled in my room. I had an amazing support system of friends and family, flowers and cards.  One in particular, which has always stuck out to me, was a card that stated, "When life hands you lemons, you should make lemonade.  But if life hands you a load of crap, well, don't make anything."  I smiled.  And laughed.  And the laughing, it felt good.  

"I smiled.  And laughed.  And the laughing, it felt good."

Much to my surprise, as I obviously had no expertise in this area, it was taking longer than just a day. All our family visited throughout the next two days. I pushed my mother around the maternity ward in the hospital’s wheelchair to try to get some contractions. (They knew she had cancer and was a fall risk, so they made her use a wheel chair).

We dealt with a lot of ups and downs during my stay at the hospital.  The hospital was very generous with visiting friends and family considering the situation.  They offered tea at noon which my family and in-laws seems to enjoy.  However, our first nurse, which was supposed to be a special "bereavement" nurse was something else.  From the constant hugging to the complaining of her own child to me, I was relieved when she was no longer my nurse soon after arriving.

The first night, the nurses insisted I take an Ambien, which is a pill that would help me sleep. I hesitantly agreed. Now, with this medication, it made me a little… different. Through my vague memory and my family’s experience from that night, the Ambien made me very silly. After winning a hand of the card game 500 (a 10-no trump bid, mind you), I sang the theme song to the musical Oklahoma! and passed out.

On Tuesday night, my OB/GYN switched me to a much stronger medication to induce labor. The side effects, which are flu-like symptoms, were so horrendous that I didn’t sleep all night. There were chills, a fever, throwing up, instant diarrhea, and the confusion.

Wednesday morning I felt the need to push. Right away everything fell in place. My OB/GYN was already at the hospital, visiting another woman. My mother and mother-in-law were both at my side. And my husband, I felt his strength in him holding my hand the entire time.

Right there I got a speed course on delivery.  Ignorant me didn't think to prepare for this and at the time in my pregnancy it was too early to take classes for it.  My mother, mother-in-law, nurse and doctor gave me advice right there as it was time. "You need to bear down and push"  "Don't forget to breathe!"  "Sit up more."  "You can do it!"  And then my doctor said, "The baby is breech."

In a pit of fatigue, depression and inability to actually comprehend what was happening, I lashed out, "I can't!  I can't push anymore!  I wanna give up!"  What is the point?  I thought to myself.  Its not like this is going to be a miraculous birth or anything.  Adam demanded I look into his eyes and concentrate.  And with that, my husband, my best friend, my everything was exactly what I needed to pull it together and deliver our child.  

In a room that would normally be filled with baby cries and well wishes, there was silence.  There was slight sobbing.  And there was heavy hearts.  And then the priest entered.  For us it was important that our baby be baptized.  

"What is the baby's name?"  The priest asked.  We had chosen names for our baby before all this was happening.  Teresa, if it was a girl; and Marshall, if it was a boy.  Sadly, with the lack of development happening because of all the issues, we couldn't tell one way or the other.  "How about a name that works for a boy and a girl?"  Someone mentioned.  And then my mother-in-law shared that she was considering naming one of her kids Aaron or Erin.  And it seemed perfect.  The only issue was how to spell it.  And it seemed only so perfect to spell it; A-R-Y-N.