The story begins on Sunday, July 1st, a very mellow and quiet weekend since Violet and Ivy were in the Hamptons with their grandparents. In fact, that whole week we barely saw the kids as they were shuffled back and forth between my mom and Gene's parents. Gene and I took that time to go to as many restaurants as possible, watch movies, start a new series (Catastrophe), eat ice cream at Ample Hills, and spend our days relaxing, watching the World Cup and generally doing nothing of real value. That morning Gene made breakfast that resembled a lobster (my fav!).
The plan for the rest of the day was to go shopping at TJ and then catch a movie around 5pm (Ocean's 8). We were wrapping up with shopping and I started to feel somewhat painless yet consistent contractions. I've had false labor and contractions several times before with this pregnancy so I decided it's best to keep this to myself until I was sure that something might be happening. Around 4pm, Gene asked if I was ready to head out to the movies. My contractions haven't slowed down at this point so I was a bit worried that we would go and have to walk out mid-movie and never know how it ends. We decided to skip Oceans's 8 and go back home to see how this saga would unfold. Around 7pm, my contractions became strong and painful. I knew that this was the real deal and let Gene know that "it's time". Not knowing what else to do or how to help me through labor, he did the next best thing: open his laptop and started to work. He realized he likely won't be in the office on Monday so might as well tie some loose ends. I will say that few things are as irritating as seeing people go about their day when you're in tremendous amount of pain, but I digress.
At 8pm, we called my doctor and told him that I am having very painful contractions that are 3-4 minutes apart. He thought this was another case of false labor and asked me to come to his office in an hour so he can examine me. At 9pm (on the dot) I was in stirrups, being told that my cervix was still long, baby was up high and I was not dialated. The doctor was very annoyed with me at this point and asked what I have been doing to induce contractions as this didn't look like typical labor. I looked him right in the eyes and told him that aside from eating insanely spicy food (shout out to Ugly Baby!) and having non stop sex, nothing out of the ordinary. He did not find this amusing and told me I can go to the hospital if I want, but I should hold off on IV or epidural as that will either slow this down or stop it completely. A really bad contractions began just as he was lecturing me and I screamed bloody murder. He finally started to believe that I was in labor and became slightly less hesitant. Gene drove to the hospital while I was in the back seat on all fours grabbing for dear life to his headrest. This made contractions more bearable than sitting in the front seat and the 30 minute ride to Lenox, while still very painful, was actually tolerable. When we got to the labor and delivery wing I was happy to see that my doctor called ahead and everything was ready for the arrival of the baby. I didn't have to go through the treacherous process of being in a little room with a bunch of other ladies while they collected useless information (who cares what my profession is?). They ushered me into a room where everything was laid out in preparation, including a baby scale, crib, and various tools for delivery. I felt they were getting a little ahead of themselves.
It was 10pm when I changed into that ghastly gown thing where your whole butt sticks out for everyone to see. It's 2018 people, you really can't come up with a better design?!? The doctor (or more likely resident or med school student) told me I was 2cm dialated and that my OB suggested I wait to get an epidural. To this I replied, "screw what he suggested, give me drugs!" Once I got the obligatory 1 Liter of IV fluid into my system, I called the nurse and pleaded for her to call the anesthesiologist ASAP. Within minutes, a tall Danish man came in and said he heard me yelling down the hall and thought he should come to me next. I tried to scare him with my scoliosis problems and he gave me a look that said, "girl, I got this!" It took him mere minutes to get everything prepped and just one pinch until the epidural was surging through my legs. I remember asking if I will feel any more contractions and him explaining that the next one will be 30% less painful and the one after 60% less painful and by the third, I won't feel much. He was correct and by the third contraction I was professing my love for him. I really, really, really love that epidural.
At 11:40pm I was checked again, and to no one's surprise, I was still 2 cm. I was told my OB is on the way, which I found to be odd since I wasn't dialated and assumed delivery wasn't very near. At 11:55pm I was examined again and everyone in the room was shocked to learn that I was a full 10cm dialated. My doctor arrived about 10 minutes later and asked if I felt like pushing. I told him that I am pretty sure she's out and dangling somewhere between my legs. He looked, and I wasn't wrong. My little peanut was so tiny that she was out without any real pushing. The whole thing was completely painless and wonderful (thank you again epidural!). Just like with Ivy, the doctor told me to go ahead and grab her and pull her out myself. I did as I was told and awkwardly put her on my chest, realizing that I completely forgot how to hold a newborn. It was 12:14am and little Olivia Nell wailed as she entered the world weighing 5 lbs and 9 ounces.
The following days at the hospital were spent feeding and changing Olivia and trying to fatten her up so that we can leave the hospital. She was born just slightly under the minimum weight for her gestational age so rather than our typical one day stay at the hospital, we had to be there for three so she can return to gaining, rather than losing weight. Olivia spent most of her time at the hospital crying and being pretty cranky while I waited for my milk to come in. They tell you that colostrum is enough to feed the baby in those first few days, but I have my doubts. Gene and I probably slept a total of 2 consecutive hours while at the hospital and the pictures clearly show our lack of sleep (I will spare you the horror).
We got home on the evening of July 4th, just as the fireworks were about to start. It is now just a week after her birth and it's been nothing but feeding, changing and sleeping (for Olivia, not for me). Due to her lower weight, I've been setting my alarm for every 3 hours and this has NOT been easy. It all paid off when on her next weigh-in she gained 10oz in 4 days. The doctor gave us clearance to go out East for the rest of the summer and now the real adventure will begin as we figure out how to be parents to 3 little ladies. Stay tuned for endless newborn pictures and be glad I don't shove them down your throat on Facebook.
