The birth story...she continues

Last time on the Saga of Unofficial Mom little Pie had just been born. We rejoin the program currently in progress.

So once the appropriate cleaning and tending to Birthmom had been taken care of, Husband came into the room and met our daughter. He held her as I snuggled close and I wasn't sure my heart could take it. It was a joy like I've never experienced before. She was really here, and she was really ours. At least we were still on track with the adoption plan.

The hospital where Pie was delivered has a really cool program for adoptive parents. As long as the birthparents agree and there is space available, the adoptive parents can get a room and stay there with the baby until he/she and the birthmother are discharged. Thankfully there was room available. So about two hours after she was born Husband, Pie and I entered room 216 and settled in. As soon as the nurse left the room and it was just the three of us together for the first time, Husband and I looked at each other with mouths hanging open. It had happened. I was really in the hospital holding a newborn. And I was not visiting someone else. This one was mine.

Pie was born on a Tuesday and we were in the hospital until about 5:00 on the following Thursday. Over those couple of days we had nurses in and out, the birthparents in and out, and a parade of doctors and specialist checking on Pie and her recovery from the traumatic birth, doing her PKU test, hearing test, etc. We got used to seeing the birthparents a couple of times a day. They would come down from birthmom's room and hang out for an hour or two, snuggle Pie, and just generally kick back.

Husband and I were starting to get the hang of caring for a newborn, with a great deal of help from the nurses. One of the nurses looked/sounded/had the mannerisms of Su-Chin from the movie Juno. So every time she left the room, one of us would say either, "Your baby has fingernails you know" or "All babies want to get borned." And then we would laugh and laugh. Ahhh, good times.

Thursday morning rolls around and we call the attorney to let her know we'll all be discharged that afternoon. Her paralegal came over and the birthparents came down to our room to sign the papers. While we sat completely motionless, Birthmom surrendered her rights to Pie. I felt like if I took a breath or made eye contact it might not happen. But without hesitation she signed all of the paperwork. She was very settled and confident in her decision. In Georgia the birthparents have 10 days to change their minds, no questions asked. So the attorney told us the deadline was Monday, January 25th at 5:00 pm. Now we had a concrete day to focus on. It then took another couple of hours to get us all checked out and ready to go.

Standing in front of the hospital with the birthparents, Pie in her seat, waiting for Husband to bring the car around was so strange. Saying goodbye to them was beyond awkward. What do you say to people who have just given you their child? How do you say thank you? How do you comfort them and protect yourself? We gave them big hugs and promised to see them soon, and then loaded ourselves into the car. I don't think I'll ever forget the feeling of driving past them, birthmom shuffling stiffly after the birth, birthdad helping to hold her up, with their daughter in my car. Driving around the corner and slowly losing sight of them and feeling like they would never know the gift they gave us, would never know how grateful we are.

We had a very tense, rush hour drive home. We finally arrived, brought Pie in and then...we'll we had no idea what to do. For the first few days we took shifts with her, always having one of us awake because of her respiratory problems at birth. And that first night, holding this tiny little person, singing her a lullaby, I finally cried. And cried. And cried. And cried.

I do not remember THAT from 8th grade health

One of my most scarring middle school memories is from 8th grade health. We had a male teacher who wasn't necessarily as sensitive about certain topics as an awkward 12/13 year old girl might hope. One of the requirements of the class was to watch "The Miracle of Birth." And as if watching it period, wasn't terrifying enough at that age, Mr. HealthTeacherMan wanted to show us the actual birth a second time to make sure we understood. So he hit rewind. He failed to turn the tape off first. We had to watch the birth in reverse. I still have nightmares about that poor baby being sucked back in.

Fast forward 20 years and I'm on the verge of becoming a mom myself. Thankfully I would not actually be birthin' no baby. To make things more fun, Pie was two weeks late. Husband and I were going out of our minds waiting for "the call." So January 12th rolls around and I'm not feeling so great. I'm fighting a migraine and am generally crabby from the stress and lack of sleep. I decided that I would go back to sleep for a bit and then go into work late morning. As I'm drifting back to sleep I hear a phone buzz. I assume it's someone from work trying to get a hold of Husband (we work together). It was not. It was Birthmother saying she was in labor and had been admitted to the hospital (after two false alarms in the previous weeks).

Needless to say we flipped out and proceeded to run around like crazy people. We managed to calm down and get to the hospital about 10:00 am. And then we waited. And waited. And waited. Pie's birthmom was only fingertip dilated for most of the morning. Eventually they gave her some drugs to help things along. They didn't help much. At some point Husband and I went to get lunch as a distraction/time waster.

We loaded that tray with just about everything the hospital cafeteria offered. We were so lost. And then proceed to eat basically none of it. We just had no appetite. We were so nervous and so excited and basically scared sh*tless.

We finally gave up on lunch and headed back to the room. On our way out of the cafeteria (which we would become far too familiar with over the next few days) I saw this sign and it made me laugh so hard I cried. I realize that it was likely the stress and exhaustion, but damn I thought it was funny....

Multi-purpose spoons. What the hell else are they being used for? Why do we need to be told they are multi-purpose? We're in a hospital...should I be afraid? Should I bring a few to help scoop out the baby in case she's stuck? So many unanswered questions.

Eventually 6:00 pm rolls around and they check Birthmother again. She's an optimistic 3 cm. They are being generous. The nurse tells her they'll be back to check again at 9:00 pm and if she hasn't made significant progress by then they'll have to seriously consider a c-section. At some point during the day Pie had pooped and they were concerned about the meconium aspiration. They planned on having a respiratory specialist in the room to make sure all was ok at the birth. We're all preparing ourselves for a c-section and feeling a little relieved that it would be done one way or the other shortly.

At 9:00 pm the nurse came back to check and was shocked. Birthmother was fully dilated and ready to push. All of a sudden there was a whirlwind of people and stuff going on. Birthmother doesn't have family here and Birthfather is not good with the whole pain/blood/guts situation so I had said I would happily be in the room if she wanted a friendly face with her. She hadn't decided. At the last minute she said I could stay.

My life changed in 15 minutes. 12 pushes. 3 sets of 4. That's all it took for my life to turn into something I had only dreamt of. Watching Pie be born was the most miraculous, humbling, amazing, beautiful thing I've ever seen. I had three cameras in my hands ready to take pictures and didn't take a single one. I was so overwhelmed. When she came out Birthmother and I just looked at each other like...holy crap that just happened. Then we noticed something wasn't quite right.

In addition to the meconium aspiration, Pie's cord was wrapped around her neck 3 times. 3 TIMES! Which had gone unnoticed because Birthmother's prenatal care only included one ultrasound at the halfway point. That's a whole different story. Pie was blue and unresponsive. Her 1 minute APGAR was a 2 out of 10. I have never been so terrified. Thankfully the respiratory specialist was already there because of the meconium. He was incredible, a rock star, a life saver...literally. After he worked his magic, her 10 minute APAGR was a 9 out of 10. And she passed every other test with flying colors from that point on.

They handed her to Birthmother first and then she handed her to me. I felt like the Grinch Who Stole Christmas. My heart grew three sizes that day. I can still feel her weight, her warmth from that first moment. I still get tears in my eyes thinking about it. The nurses needed to work on her a bit more. Including cleaning up her cord, which I got to cut. Tougher than I expected. So while they did some cleaning and maintenance. I tore off down the hall to tell Husband that our daughter had been born. Our perfect, tiny, baby girl.