Inspired by my friend Lucy, author of Bronco Babies Blog, I thought I'd capture our own journey as our baby daughter grows and Ben and I navigate our way through parenthood. As my life generally holds its share of hilarity and ridiculousness, I can only imagine how the edition of a new tiny human will affect our sleepy little world. And so, friends and family, the story of Emily C. Milner begins...
The Labor
I woke up around 3 a.m. the morning of June 12 with contractions. They are right about real contractions...you know them when they hit. The contractions started at about 12 minutes apart, and got closer together as they night wore on. I woke Ben up at 5 a.m. He asked how far apart the contractions were and if he needed to pack the car. I told him they were still eight minutes apart and not to worry. He fell back asleep until his alarm clock went off at 6:30 a.m.
Ben called from work at 10 a.m. My contractions were 5 to 7 minutes apart, but the doctor told us not to head to Jackson until they were 5 minutes apart for an hour. Poor Ben was so worried and distracted, he couldn't concentrate. I called Gros Ventre, and they said to pack our bags and head up to get checked out.
The drive to Jackson was uneventful. We didn't have to speed or race around roadblocks and we didn't even get caught in construction. Around Bondurant, we did find ourselves in the middle of a cattle drive. Only in Wyoming can you get caught in a stampeede on the way to have a baby!
At 4 p.m. we headed back to the clinic. I had made some progress, so it was time to be admitted to the hospital. I think the nurse was disappointed I didn't need a ride to the hospital in a wheelchair! In the hospital, we found out the baby was face up, meaning her face was facing my belly instead of my back. The nurses warned me that would make labor and deliver more intense. I discovered that intense was code for painful.
Dr. Roberts examined me at 5:30 and broke my water at 5:45. Her parting words were "Your contractions will get a little more intense without that bag of water as a cushion."
Or sure, now she tells me. And there was that word again...intense. Two contractions after she broke my water, I had a whole new definition of painful. It felt as if my back was being ripped in half, and I felt the pain clear into my knees. It was so bad I ended up throwing up the entirety of my lunch and asking for an epidural ten or fifteen minutes later.
The process of getting the epidural was a little traumatic. It felt as if the doctor bumbled his way around my back for hours before finding the right spot and getting the needle inserted. I had to sit on the side of the bed, hunched over and not moving through the horrible contractions. It took the doctor so long I thought Ben was going to reach across the bed and strangle the guy with a catheter. But once it was in and flowing, I had so much relief I felt like sleeping.
The Delivery
Once I was settled and dozing, Ben decided to go to the car and get our bags. While he was out, Dr. Roberts came back in to check me. To my surprise, I was dilated to 10 cm and told it was time to start pushing.
"Wait! Ben's not here!" I panicked. The nurse and Dr. Roberts laughed and said we wouldn't start without him. Ten minutes later, Ben was holding one leg, Nurse Irene was holding the other and I started pushing. Irene had warned me because the baby was face up, I could be pushing for up to two hours. But after two sets of contractions, Irene told me to stop pushing so she could get the doctor. About 10 minutes after that, Emily joined the world.
"It's a girl!" Ben exclaimed. We hadn't found out the sex, but I had it in my head that we were having a boy, so it came as a bit of a surprise that he was actually a she. Irene laid Emily on my chest for a few minutes before they took her for weighing, measuring and a good clean up. Ben kept a watchful eye on our daughter while Dr. Roberts finished up with me. Before long, Emily was dry and swaddled in a bassinet at my side.
A lot of my friends have described having epic battles with their spouse over naming their child. Ben and I must be the exception, because the naming process was fairly simple. Emily is a family name on Ben's side, and a name I liked. We discussed other names, but kept coming back to Emily. Catherine was my contribution to the name game. It was the name of my godmother, Catherine Mooney. Aunt Kate, as I always called her, was a wonderfully kind woman that loved me as if I were her own niece. She was sassy, funny, kind and loved animals, writing and watching birds. I couldn't ask for a better namesake for my daughter than Aunt Kate. I wish she were still alive to see our beautiful little monkey, but I know she'd approve with all her heart.
And so my pregnancy ended. It was nine long months, the first half of which I spent sick as a dog, throwing up as much as twenty times a day sometimes. I got to do two stints in the hospital, a month of home IV therapy and learned the hard way there are some foods that are really, REALLY bad to throw up. But in the end, it was all worth it to hold this tiny, perfect person in my arms at last.
