Jordana's Birth Story

It was Monday, December 5th 2011 at 4:30 am. Time to wake up. I had slept well and by the sound of Matt’s snoring next to me through the night- so had he. I was 39 weeks pregnant and ready to meet my baby on this cold Winter morning. I had been a Monday/December baby and so had Landon- it only seemed right that baby Jordana would make her appearance on a Monday in December as well. What better time than now? I took a hot bath and put on my makeup…should I have used waterproof mascara? Yeah, probably…no turning back now though. I reminded myself that these would be my last moments of pregnancy. I looked in the mirror and rubbed my belly, turning from side to side, etching the memory in to my brain in case I ever wanted to feel that way again.









It’s a strangely surreal thing to have your delivery planned. We had a time for everything. A time to be at the hospital, a surgeon of our choice and the whole thing laid out…no surprises…not like last time. I went out to the garage to put Jordana’s bags in the back of my Tahoe that Matt had running to warm up. When I opened the back door the song “I Hope You Dance” was just finishing playing on the radio. It got me more excited to meet this baby. Got me thinking about the days to come. Reassured me that the timing was right. We drove to the hospital. It was dark and we were pretty quiet. Our minds were spinning, flipping through pages that were hard to focus on and trying to calmly find strength within ourselves to make our way through where we were headed…the baby that would come and the many weeks of recovery that would follow.







The labor and delivery floor was quiet and empty. A nurse took us back and had me change in to a gown. They hooked me up to monitors and put an IV in my hand. We laid there in the cold room, still pretty quiet, while nurses fluttered around doing their jobs of preparing me for my Cesarean. My mom arrived and sat with us. One nurse injected something in to my IV that made me feel like I was truly going to lose my mind. I went downhill fast and momentarily felt like I would never come back from it. I was instantly claustrophobic. I just wanted to get up and run away. Call the whole thing off. I laid there and closed my eyes, trying to ward off the feeling that this drug gave me. I meditated my way out of it, but not after a huge freak out about the way that it made me feel. It made me feel the kind of exhaustion that I felt right when they were wheeling me away for my emergency cesarean almost two years ago with Landon. The most exhausted I had ever been in my life and I didn’t want that memory back. My mom went out and let them know I wasn't doing so great. So, the nurses came in and told me that it was something I needed to relax me. I did not feel relaxed at all. I felt helpless. I worried that I would have a hard time handling baby after an exhausting surgery and that made me panic, but it eventually leveled out in my system and I started to feel like myself again.


Nurses, Anesthesiologists and my Doctor all came in and introduced themselves. They walked me back to the Operating Room. It was incredibly bright. I thought to myself that this isn’t the way I want it to be. I hate this room, but I have to do this. This is her day to enter the world and how she enters doesn’t matter. It will be done and over with soon…just breathe. I climbed up a short step stool on to an operating table. Two nurses leaned me forward and the anesthesiologist inserted my spinal. Please work…please work soon…let’s get this over with was running through my head. Matt was waiting in the hallway and I wondered if they would remember to bring him in this time. I felt the medicine make its way through my body. I was numbed. They laid me down and put up the big curtain in front of my face, inserted my catheter and whatever else it is they do on the other side of that big sheet. The anesthesiologist was keeping an eye on me. I mentioned that I felt nauseous and he handed me a bag. Laying flat on your back and trying to throw up in a small bag isn’t easy. I threw up three times…most of it made it in to the bags, the rest was kindly cleaned up by an anesthesiologist who deserves a giant Thank You card. I could hear the doctors talking amongst themselves on the other side of the curtain, “So, how was your weekend? Did you get to go running?” I guess they had different things on their minds than I did.







Matt showed up next to me and they started to cut. My body was shaking uncontrollably. I asked Matt to hold my hand down really hard. I could hear a lot of cutting and it felt like it took them forever to get through all of the layers. I was shaking my head back and forth trying to stay calm. I heard the doctor say, “Is there even a baby in here?” She was really hard to get out. They had to stretch my stomach far over and dig her out. I think she might have wanted a little more time in there. She finally came out screaming. There was no guessing whether or not she was OK. She was loud and the worst was over. They showed her to us and took her to a table at the side of the room where the nurses would periodically sit her up and show her to me. My eyes filled with tears…I wanted to hold her right then. She was pink and perfect. The little modest girl had finally showed her face and it was worth waiting for. Her huge, alert eyes and pouty lips made the 10 people in the room gush with “She is sooo cute” and “She looks great!” It was pretty hard to lay there and just look at her from across the room while the nurses took care of her. Matt kept wandering between her and me…taking pictures and letting me know that she looked good. He finally got his little daddy’s girl. One of the doctor’s that pulled her out made a point to let me know that Jordana had grabbed his finger really hard right when he reached in for her. He seemed amused by her and that made me want to meet her even more badly. They sewed me, stapled me and wheeled me back to my recovery room...with that sweet anesthesiolgist chasing us the whole way worried that my blood pressure was dropping too low. As he was asking me questions about my "typical blood pressure" I could tell he was thinking about jabbing me with the EpiPen he was clutching tightly in his hand. He eventually handed it off to my nurse. "Just in case," I heard him say. I couldn't focus on that though. I needed to see her.






And they brought her to me immediately. I finally got to hold her and nurse her. Whatever else they were doing with me at that time I do not remember. All I know is that I looked in her eyes and I already knew her. Jordana is sweet and happy. She likes to be warm and she loves to be held. This is the story of her birthday and it’s a day we will not forget.