It's A Girl!

Well, I suppose I spoiled the surprise there with the title, but since it’s been four months now, everyone knows anyway…but here is the story of Rebecca Lyn Moore’s birth.

On Monday, January 3^rd, the baby was 5 days overdue and Devin accompanied me to Dr. Cowling’s office.  Dr. Cowling was all for starting the inducing process that night, and I timidly agreed because I’m a pushover like that – and scared of doctors.  After I left, there was much anxiety and mind-changing and hormonal crying and calling my mom and my sister for advice.  Devin was very supportive and dealt with my craziness well, and I ended up cancelling the induction – I wanted to go as natural as possible.  However, Dr. Cowling said I needed to come in on Wednesday, if I hadn’t had the baby by then, because I would be a week overdue.  Wednesday came, and the baby didn’t – so it was off to the doctor’s again.  This time, I agreed to be induced on Friday; Dr. Cowling was going out of town on Saturday for a week – and I would absolutely need to be induced the following Wednesday by another doctor…so, I opted to go with the doctor I knew, and prayed that the baby would come before Friday.

I guess I lacked faith. J

1-7-11 has a nice ring to it. Friday morning I woke up to my alarm at 5:30, to dutifully follow the instruction sheet given to me that said to call the hospital at that time and make sure they had a room for me, which the nurse affirmed they did.  I couldn’t quite remember, but I thought Dr. Cowling had said to be at the hospital at 7:00 am (but she didn’t put anything on the instruction sheet), so I asked the nice nurse, who said, (and I quote!) “Oh no, there’s no specific time.  Take a shower, have a nice breakfast – take your time!” Since I was pretty tired, having had a hard time getting to sleep the night before (I was a little anxious), I decided to try to go back to sleep for a bit. After a leisurely shower, I was trying to enjoy my dry toast and peaches (Devin was having something better, but I don’t remember what) when my cell phone rang.  It was Dr. Cowling, wondering where we were. Oops.  We really were supposed to be there at 7.  So we hurriedly finished breakfast, snapped a couple pictures at the door, and sped to the hospital (justifying that if we got pulled over, Devin could still technically say, “But, Officer, my wife is about to have our baby!”). 

Whoa! Look at that belly! Hard to believe I was that big...

All too ready to go

We checked in at the emergency entrance to St. Joseph’s, only an hour late, and the nurse correctly surmised that this was our first baby.  I don’t know what gave it away: the eagerness on our faces (naïve to the pain that would soon come) or my extreme over-preparedness (why didn’t anyone tell me I wouldn’t need any of that stuff the baby books recommend??).

We met our nurse, April, who was the best nurse in the world!  She took us to our room, which was really nice, and we got settled and I donned my attractive hospital gown.  Dr. Cowling came and shortly after 8 am broke my water, a strange sensation, but thankfully not painful, as I feared it might be (they should call it “popping your balloon”; it sounds less scary and is more accurate to how I felt).  We were hoping that doing this would start contractions and I could continue naturally.  April told us to go walk around the hospital and report back for monitoring every once in a while.  I felt a little awkward, being one of the only people in such beautiful attire, and definitely the only pregnant lady.  However, I put on two gowns for more modesty (the 2^nd one backwards), and we had great fun, gradually roaming farther and farther from the maternity ward. We had great fun amusing ourselves.

 Just hangin' out in bed

 My spiffy surroundings

 Monitoring our vitals

To be honest, I don't know what this measures...but it looks cool

This was my first tag...they got my birthday wrong

What curious things you can find in a hospital cupboard...

He looks prepared for fatherhood, wouldn't you agree?

These hospital socks, although a dashing color of yellow, aren't comfortable with those little knobblies

Oh my.  I am speechless.

Escape from the psycho maternity ward!!

Prepping for the pain with a small appetizer

My muscle-bound coach.  He wanted to bring a baseball glove "to catch the baby".  As I was pretty sure he was serious, I hid the glove in the garage.

   

Me and my to-do lists...

Doing plies at the barre

I couldn't tell you what ballet position this might resemble, but I bet I'm executing it beautifully..."Brava! Brava!"

As you can see from my smiles, I did not have a single contraction the next few hours.  Every nurse who passed while we were taking those silly photos gave us some pessimistic variation of “Well, you’re obviously not in labor.  Enjoy it while you can”.  It was not very reassuring.

At 11 am, Dr. Cowling returned and put me on Pitocin, which was kind of disappointing, but oh well, I got over it pretty quick.  They brought me a liquid lunch, which I secretly think was the real reason I went into labor. Not only was everything gross, but my “dessert” was two helpings of lime Jello.  I dislike Jello.  And lime is the worst flavor of Jello.  So, I think the baby inherited my dislike of Jello, because my contractions started at 11:30 am, as if to say, “Well, fine!  I got the hint already.  I don’t want to leave, but if you’re going to feed me lime Jello, I’m outta here!”

 "Belly up!"

Talk about adding insult to injury!

Alright, so I know it was the Pitocin.  Being induced was not so bad – at least my labor progressed steadily and normally.  I still chose not to have an epidural, though.  Devin and I brought the laptop, thinking we would have a Pirates of the Caribbean marathon; however, I was not really in the mood to do that, although I probably should have tried to distract myself.  Maybe next time.  Nurse April had the perfect balance (for us) between advice giving/checking on us, and leaving us to ourselves.  I did appreciate her bringing those nifty hospital vomit-catchers for the next three times I “enjoyed” my lime Jello. 

Devin was the best help ever!  My love for him tripled that day, I think, as he helped me through labor and delivery.  He did whatever I needed; talked to me, gave me a massage, made me laugh (until the contractions were coming too close together and I did not want to laugh anymore!), pushed on pressure points, or just held me.  He was very encouraging and loving the whole time and I really couldn’t have done it without him.  We had some special experiences.  Dr. Cowling afterwards said that she was impressed because it was the first time she had seen the wife NOT swear at the husband, AND tell him that she loved him.  I was pretty demanding though – I only let him leave my side once; Devin loves to tell how when he asked, “Can I run to the bathroom real quick?” (it was probably 6 feet away, mind you), I replied with a guilt-inducing, strained, “I’ll probably live…” ha ha

Now there's the face of a woman in pain...still trying to smile though 

Pressure points were a life-saver

Rock on

All pretense of happiness is now gone.  I wouldn't even look at the camera, much less smile. Ha!

The worst part, of course, was pushing.  I started shortly before 7 pm – and it took MUCH longer than I was expecting it to, maybe because the baby’s head was 14 inches – but Devin was very supportive while I was wanting to give up (like I could!) and thinking I couldn’t push anymore.  I was very comforted by him, and also by April, who stayed almost an hour and a half past the end of her 12 hour shift (I don’t know if she wanted to know the baby’s gender that badly, or if she was just so thoughtful and caring like that). At 8:21 pm, our baby entered this world and was promptly handed to the nurses by Dr. Cowling, who then turned back to me to stitch me up (I tore a little), when April said, “Wait! Is it a boy or a girl?!”  We were surprised, but happy to hear the declaration, “It’s a girl!” Because of the paucity of females in Devin’s line, we were both thinking she would probably be a boy; but it’s a good thing she was a girl, because we had a girl’s name picked out from the beginning, but couldn’t decide for sure on a boy’s name. We named her Rebecca Lyn, after our mothers – Becky (mine) and Lynette (Devin’s).  Becca weighed 8 pounds, 10.9 ounces and was 20 ½ inches long.  We had a little time to ourselves with Becca before we called family to tell them the good news. I won’t try to express what wonderful things I felt while holding our little girl for the first time.  What an amazing love comes with being a parent!  

First family photo

Rebecca Lyn Moore

"Put me back in!"

"I guess it's not so bad..."

"What's up, world?"

"I changed my mind, I want to go back"

"It's cold here and I look like an old grandma"

While I was getting cleaned up and moved to another room, Devin got to go with a nurse to clean up Becca, get her official weight and length and give her her first diaper. ( I would like to here insert a side comment to say that although “going natural” was pretty darn hard and painful, I’m glad Devin and I chose to do it that way.  I’m interested to see how it is without being induced.) 

Our little heavy-weight champion in mid-roll (really 8 lbs. 10.9 oz)

Checking that ol' ticker

Wrinkly elephant feet

"I'm being eeeelectricuted!"

"What's that you say, sonny? Eh??"

Tiny hands

Daddy's girl

Becca’s first visitors that night were her excited Grandma Lynette (1^st grandchild on Devin’s side – 4^th on mine) and Uncle Kyle and Aunt Vanessa.  I was so grateful that night for the miracle of technology that let my family see Becca via webcam. 

Proud Grandma

Uncle Kyle is jealous

"Aunt Vanessa is happy I'm not screaming"

Hello to far away family in Utah

Kyle and Vanessa took a lot of great pictures for us, and so I shall post most of them here, because I would be remiss in my duty as a loving first-time mother if I didn’t do so and proclaim that Becca is the cutest baby in the world!  We love our little Becca with all our hearts and are so glad to be a Mommy and Daddy.