Little Luka

So I never really blogged about Olivia’s birth, I started a post but like so many aspects of my life I didn’t really follow it through and finish it. Maybe I will sometime, probably should if I intend to write about Lukas’ birth…seems only fair right? So little boy is a little over a week old now and I could not be more in love with him. I find myself just staring at him or caressing his tiny feet remembering that I could always discern those feet when he was still inside me. The little nudges and pushes of those little baby feet making weird temporary lumps on my pregnant belly.

I am not someone who you would say is very in touch with my body. I get grossed out easily and especially when I was pregnant with Olivia anytime she would move or roll or nudge me with elbows, knees or feet I would kinda just throw my hands up. I didn’t want to touch my belly when she moved…it was weird and it grossed me out to think of her rolling around squishing up all my organs! I would not say it was THAT much different this time…except for the exception that I knew with a certainty that this time it would be over sooner than I thought. Then the option to touch my belly and feel out feet and bum and elbows would be gone, and I didn’t want to miss out on that. So in a way I think I connected to this pregnancy in a way I didn’t have the first time. I knew all along this baby was a boy, I just knew…and I was hoping I was wrong. Even up to the day of him being born I still had not wrapped my head around the fact that I was going to have a son. I mean don’t get me wrong I guess I always wanted to have both a boy and a girl but I just wanted another girl this time so bad!

We waited a while to find out the gender. Mitch’s older brother and his wife had decided to be surprised when their baby was born and Mitch was convinced this would be a fun endeavor. At about 25 weeks I told him to forget it, I had to know for sure...boy…or girl? And even before the ultrasound lady said anything I saw it on the screen…I saw the little boy parts and even though I expected it, I felt stunned. Not happy, not sad…just blank. And I felt guilty about feeling this way but all I could think about was how I was not going to get to name my baby “Penelope“, how Olivia wasn’t going to have a sister, how I wasn’t gonna be able to pull out all of Olivia’s baby clothes to outfit this child in all those cute clothes Olivia outgrew way too fast. I mean 2 sisters named Liv and Penny…how cute is that!!!! SOOOOOO CUTE!!! And to make matters worse Mitch and I could not agree on a boy name to save our lives! He liked the original boy name we had…if Olivia had been a boy and I just didn’t like it anymore. He also liked some kinda weird and off the wall names which everyone in my family who we told the names…mocked them and made fun of them.

Urghhhh and then of course to add insult to injury it was shortly after finding out the gender I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes…which was D-epressing. I honestly was so depressed about that for probably the whole first month and then spent the last 2 months just really annoyed and angry about it. Great, I’m having a boy, Mitch lost his job and I can’t even have ice cream anymore! I mean looking at it now, the diabetes…it wasn’t SOOOO bad…but I mean at the same time it was, lol…if that even makes sense? At first it seems impossible and then you go into a place where it feels manageable and then the last phase is just frustration and annoyance. I was looking forward to the last trimester…Mitch was all recovered for the most part from his heart surgery and I could just focus on being pregnant and excited. Well that didn’t happen obviously and after my last posts you can see that the last weeks of pregnancy were so chaotic for me. Non-stress test after non-stress test, hospital monitoring for blood pressure, blood work, lab work…you name they were afraid I had it. All the tests were always fine…but that didn’t do anything to calm my frazzled stressed out pregnant soul…I just wanted to cry and I did cry a lot in the end. The last doctor’s appointment before he was born landed me once again at the hospital for testing and as I left the office and got into the car I just broke out in heaving sobs…this was like the 6^th time in 4 weeks I had been sent to the hospital and the constant scare of something being found in the tests or labs and having to be induced and inevitably have some really crazy emergency type situation. Where the induction drugs caused my baby to go into distress and then resulted in a c-section or something was terrifying…did I mention I had been watching a lot of documentaries about home birth/natural birth vs. hospital births and I had in my mind the idea that when it comes to a hospital birth I would not have a lot of say in the matter if something did go wrong? This of course did nothing to help my fears. And I had a hospital birth with Olivia and that was a really positive experience so why I had all of a sudden had become afraid of the labor and delivery doctors and nurses…didn’t make a lot of sense.

I think it stemmed from the fact that I had a different doctor this time. Well a different practice is what I would say because there are something like 6 doctors and 3 midwives on staff and I never saw the same doctor twice. Which at first I didn’t care and it didn’t seem to matter but when things started getting worrisome in the end and I felt like I had no relationship with any of the doctors and they certainly didn’t make me feel like they knew anything about me other than what was written in my chart I felt like I should just change my name to “High Blood Pressure Gestational Diabetic”, because that’s who they made me feel like every time I came in. I just didn’t feel like I trusted them and therefore I went into all those tests and hospital monitoring feeling like I wasn’t even sure why I was there and terrified each time that they would tell me that this time I wasn’t going to be leaving the hospital…that they were going to induce me. They ironically had told me at my last dr. visit that I would be induced at 39 weeks…they didn’t ask me or even discuss it with me…THEY TOLD ME. And guess who went into labor the day before my official 39^th week mark? And guess who was born in the morning of the first day of my 39^th week? Guess who didn’t have any problems maintaining my blood sugar or blood pressure during the birth and didn’t have to have any of their stupid pitocin and even had her water break all on it’s own? ME!!!!! The only medical intervention I had was an epidural. While I was curious to see if I could last longer this time than the first without one, the nurse kept telling me that I was progressing quickly and second babies come faster. I was terrified of the option of the epidural being taken away if I waited too long to ask for one…I didn’t need to be a hero by any means and I am in no way shape or form a fan of pain. But let’s start at the beginning…”The rest of the story” as Paul Harvey would say.

So Sunday September 16^th I woke up feeling crampy. I had started to lose my mucus plug (I promise the story won’t get more graphic that the word mucus plug) like 2 days before so I knew we were getting close to baby boy. I got up and went to the bathroom which made the cramps feel worse to have an empty bladder and something in me remembered the last time I was in labor and thinking that it felt like period cramps in the start and how this is exactly the same feeling. Still I was hesitant to make a definite announcement that “I’m in labor”. You see with Olivia I actually went to the hospital the day before she ended up being born thinking I was in active labor only to be sent home feeling like a crazy overly anxious pregnant lady…I did not want to be “that girl” again. Also I knew they wanted to induce me at 39 weeks, although nothing was scheduled yet, and I was afraid if I went in with false labor and they called the doctors they would just keep me and induce me right then…since I was 39 weeks the next day and I was already there. As I said before induction seems really scary to me and I wanted to avoid it, if possible. All day during the contractions Mitch would ask me “is this real, or is this Braxton Hicks” and I would inevitably say “I don’t know, probably false labor…but I don’t know”. The contractions started to get stronger and longer and then closer together. I had spent practically all day on Facebook fishing for opinions as to whether or not I should go into the hospital, whether or not this was “real”. Most people seemed to think it was real labor…I was still not convinced…I had still not even packed a hospital bag or even had any clean clothes to put in the bag since I had not done laundry in like weeks at that point. Too exhausting to haul myself up and down the three stairs into the garage and then have to shimmy my way through all the crap in the garage to get to the washing machine.

I had talked to both my mother and Mitch’s mother throughout the day. My mom, of course as usual, said it was probably false labor (remember you have to have half your brain spilling out of your head for her to admit you might have a problem) and Mitch’s mom seemed a little more certain that this was probably the real deal. I think my mom might have been trying to psych me out…get my ass in gear and get my bag packed…but I don’t know. I think what I was waiting for, subconsciously, was for Olivia to be in bed for the night. I wanted that last night with her. I wanted to know the exact last moment we were just a family of three. I wanted to read to her and sing to her and remember this was the last night she was still my only baby. I also didn’t want to leave her in some sort of panic where she was confused as to what was going on. I wanted to leave her in bed to go to sleep like she would any other night and when she woke up in the morning she would have the surprise of not only Auntie Allison being there but also a baby brother waiting to meet her. I cried during those stories, I couldn’t even get through our usual nightly songs. We always sing three songs…the first 2 alternate between a bunch of songs but the last one is always “Baby Mine”. I sobbed and held her feeling guilty. I was changing her whole life and she didn’t even have any idea and I wasn’t sure how she would react to not being the only baby anymore. As if on cue as soon as she was in bed the contractions started to get rough…I finally admitted that we should call Allison so she could come over and get my Mom here and head to the hospital.

We got into Labor and Delivery triage around 11:30. Mitch and my mom had to go move their cars out of 15 minute parking and left me alone in the room. Thankfully the nurse returned to check me while they were gone…nothing like checking “dilation” to make a girl feel uncomfortable and I didn‘t need to be on display to mother and Mitch. I was expecting her to say “Oh you are barely dilated, maybe you should head home”, but that’s not what she said…”You are about 5 cm…looks like you will be staying with us tonight”. And with that I finally admitted to myself that I was 9 months pregnant, that this baby was coming tonight, that this baby was a boy, that it was almost over. And I hardly even took any pictures of being pregnant….urghhhhh!!!! This was all I could think about as I walked my way down to the delivery room. I always thought I had time…well time was up it seemed and really the only pictures I had pregnant were candids taken in Tahoe and a few wearing some ridiculous vintage maternity shirts that were my maternal grandmother’s. I wanted some “nice pictures”…now I’m wearing that ugly hospital gown and feel rocked with pain every 3 minutes…I’ll be all sweaty and gross…FANTASTIC!

So we made it into the delivery room at probably close to 1 AM. The nurse got an IV going with what I doubled checked probably 20 times wasn’t Pitocin, but fluids. The IV was quite the fiasco and I still have a giant bruise to prove it! The room was pretty huge and Mitch and my mom both sat pretty far away from me…now that I think about it…which was fine because they were both kind of irritating me, lol. They just get into little religious or political discussions and while that annoys me on a normal day…try having contractions and having to listen to it…I think I told them to shut up a few times, lol! The first time with Olivia every time I had a contraction I called out to my mom…like she would be able to stop the pain or something…This time was so much different. I wanted to be left alone for the most part. Mitch and Mom could keep their distance and I could just bear the pain alone…The nurse filtered in and out checking me here and there and kept reminding me that things were progressing and second time babies can come really fast without any real warning.

This got me a bit un-nerved. I remember my sister telling me that with her last baby right at the point where she didn’t think she could stand any more pain and she asked for an epidural they told her it was too late, it was time to push. I did not want to have that happen to me…I wanted a choice in the matter and I was fairly certain I would be getting an epidural…it was just a question of when. Well I think I made it to a 6.5...when I said “I think I’d like an epidural now”. Knowing that the last time I asked for the epidural I actually had to wait because the anthesiaologist was with other mothers…I thought I had more time before he would arrive in my room but he was there in a flash. I didn’t remember how icky the epidural feels. How it almost feels like they are pushing air into your spine, yuck. And this time the epidural took on both sides however it was not as strong as the one I had with Olivia. I still felt A LOT of pressure and also somehow felt like I had to pee and I think I even might have peed, lol. They did not give me a catheter like I had with Olivia and I thought maybe they had forgot? I called the nurse to ask about it and tell her I felt like I had to pee…she said she would empty my bladder but wasn’t going to leave it in, which was fine by me. Right then my water broke and I suddenly realized the feeling of pressure and the feeling like I had to pee was actually my water getting ready to break…every contraction I could feel like something was about to happen down there, something was going to burst…I just figured it was having to pee. They had to break my water with Olivia. Then things moved fast!

I started to feel like the epidural was wearing off a little and they had explained to me that they used a less strong epidural so I could still feel pressure and still know when to push…but they would give me a little more so I could hopefully sleep a little before it was time. I wanted to sleep but I felt too anxious, too ampted up, too nervous that everything was happening already…remember I woke up that morning convinced it was all in my head. The nurse dimmed the lights and told me to rest but to call her if I felt any pressure, like I needed to do a “number 2” kinda pressure. Well I felt pressure all right but not like pooping kinda pressure…just pressure I tried to ignore for about an hour. Finally I decided maybe I should tell the nurse about this “pressure” just in case. A different nurse came in and explained mine was on break for another 3 minutes “do you want me to check you, or can you wait 3 minutes”. I said I was fine, I could wait. Then she asked “so you feel pressure” and I said “yeah every time I have a contraction I can feel like the head pushing“…she looked alarmed…”You can feel the head pushing out, I better check you”. So she did then she said “Oh my the baby’s head is right there. Turn over to your side and don’t push I need to call the doctor right away”. It apparently was “go” time. My nurse came back just then and she got the room ready and the little doctor appeared…not one of my doctors but the doctor on call that night…which was just as well since I didn’t know my doctors or trust them anyway. And this guy seemed very nice and quiet and peaceful and  well, Asian. Little Asian people for some reason have like a calming effect on me…they are so reassuring in a quiet calm way. He told me his name was Dr. Zhang and he would be delivering my baby tonight.

After that it feels kinda like a blur. It happened fast and like I said, the epidural was not as strong as the one I had with Olivia so I could feel more than I did with her. Not so much pain…but an insane amount of pressure compared to Olivia’s birth. I could feel him coming out of me. With Olivia I pushed for about 25 minutes and she was out. But I really had no idea what was going on because I literally felt nothing…I pushed when they told me to push and I pushed like I had to poop like they told me to do and she came out. This time I could feel him there and I needed him out, I needed to relieve that pressure and I was so tired. I pushed for about 10-15 minutes and then had the oddest sensation when his head came out…it felt like a pop, like opening a sealed jar, snap…and there was the head. I didn’t even feel aware of  Mitchell or my mom being there, I just felt so “in the zone” to get him out. It’s funny to think about what I remembered most about my first moments with Olivia compared to what I remember most about Lukas. I think because I couldn’t feel anything with Olivia what stands out in my mind was how warm and wet she felt against my chest, how earthy she smelled, how that was literally the best feeling I had felt in my life. With Lukas it was just like a strange sensation of relief and pressure being relieved and then just LOVE…I don’t recall anything about how wet or warm he felt. The nurse had explained to me earlier that after the babies are born they are placed on the mother’s chest and they stay there for an hour without anyone else interfering or picking the baby up…not even Dad.

They placed him on my chest and started to dry him off and he was crying a little but nothing like a strong hearty cry. He was just kinda whining and whimpering. The nurse started to rub on his back pretty vigorously. “Do you hear how he is just kinda whiney like a cat, we want a big strong cry to clear his lungs, so I’m trying to make him angry”. At first I found this cute…thinking he was just a mellow little guy. Then after several attempts to “make him mad” didn’t produce much of a difference I noticed the nurse walk over to the phone and she was calling someone and I got very nervous. A respiratory nurse came him and tried the same things to produce a big cry with not much of a result but they assured me that he was pink which was a good sign but they just needed him to cry to clear those lungs. Then a respiratory therapist showed up and after it was determined that what they were doing wasn’t working they told me they were going to take him out to the hall and try a few more things. If that didn’t work he would have to go to the NICU and do something having to do with bubbles, I can’t remember exactly what they said to clear out his lungs and get him breathing more regularly since he seemed to be slightly struggling. Mitch and my mom went out into the hall with him and I was left alone with the nurse in my room. I think she could tell I was freaked out cause she asked me if I wanted her to open the door so I could hear him. I said yes…then proceeded to ask her a thousand questions about what exactly was going on and if he was okay. She told me not to worry, he was pink and he was breathing he just needed some extra help to clear his lungs. I guess according to Mitchell they determined they were going to have to take him to the NICU to do whatever the “bubble” thing was and right as they were about the hook him up to some oxygen he let out a huge crying wail and he stopped making the “cat noise” and with that apparently he was fine to come back to me.

And there I was the mother of a baby boy 7 pounds, 14 ounces, 21.1 inches long born September 17, 2012 at 4:35 AM and I was in love with him. He was/is perfect. With Olivia it was all so new and nerve racking and I was afraid of breaking her. Every little noise she made had me nervous, I loved her and was just as in love with her but it was different being a “new” mother. This time it felt so peaceful, I felt I had a better idea of what to do when he cried, I didn’t feel so inclined to ask the nurses for help with everything. He was just mine and I didn’t want to put him down, I didn’t want to take my eyes off of him. And of course he was a boy…a boy was perfect!

Then there was the issue of the name…he still didn’t have a name and was labeled as “Baby Boy Larsen”. Everyone who came in, nurses, student nurses, doctors…they would all ask “Oh what’s his name”…and the answer was always the same, we don’t know yet. Monday night Mitch came in armed with the baby name book and literally went through every name in the book, he left late that night and I just felt even more frustrated, we were never going to agree on anything. He was still pushing for Julian and I was still really pushing for Leo but neither of us wanted to give in to each other on those names.  So how did we arrive at Lukas? Way back in the beginning of my pregnancy Lucas was discussed…but Mitch said he didn’t like the nickname “Luke”, which was most likely what people would call him. Then Mitch saw that “Lukas” with a “k” was the Greek spelling and Mitch is part Greek. He randomly just said “Okay how about Lukas Anthony Benveniste”. I reminded him that he didn’t like “Luke” and he said “well we could call him Luka or Lou or Louie for short“. In my head I could hear Olivia’s little voice saying Lou or Louie which would sound more like Wou or Wouie and I said “really are you serious”. He said “yeah, I think it’s good, I think I like it…Lukas Anthony Benveniste”. At which point I burst into tears…that was his name! All of a sudden it just seemed like his name all along, like we always called him Lukas. So a mere 10 minutes before we were discharged from the hospital “Baby Boy Larsen” had a name…FINALLY!

We went into the hospital Sunday night close to 11:45, he was born at 4:35 AM Monday morning and we left the hospital on Tuesday around noon. It all seemed so fast. I think technically I could have/ was supposed to stay another night but I asked when I could go home and they said I could leave as early as Tuesday. When Olivia was born I never wanted to leave the hospital. It was so nice to just be the three of us in that tiny private room and I knew once we left all of a sudden Olivia would be thrown into ring of the Benveniste family. She would not just be my little baby…we lived with them and everyone I assumed were going to swarm her like ants to a picnic. It wasn’t exactly like that but this time with Lukas I had my own house to go home to…my own little family. I had a baby girl to come home to and this hospital stay was only the second time in her life I had spent the night away from her and I missed her. So we brought our little boy home and as we were driving away from the hospital with my little bundle of boy in the back seat Mitch looked over at me and said “I feel like a grown up…this feels like a real family now”…I couldn’t agree more!