Kayla's Birth Story
My first good look at my angel 
First family photo--scary, but sweet
Well, Kayla has been keeping her Mommy quite busy, but I thought I'd take a minute to write about her dramatic entrance into the world while she's sleeping here on my lap...
On September 9th, I woke up around 5:45 a.m. with serious pains, which I seemed to be having every twenty minutes. Of course, because it was a week after my due date, I refused to believe they were contractions. I started my day as usual and headed off to work. Throughout the day, I continued to have these pains every twenty minutes, but kept telling myself that as soon as I declared them to officially be contractions they would go away. So, the work day came and went and I went on home.
I told my Mom about the regularly-timed pains and she said I was going to be having a baby that night. I still didn't believe her. I took a bath, and then a walk, and the contractions got to be ten minutes apart. (By that time, I believed they were contractions.) After another bath and another walk, this one with my Mom, they became less than five minutes apart. They hurt pretty badly and Mom tried to convince me that Kayla was on her way for sure. I still was reluctant to believe it. After all, I had been prepared for her to come for weeks and nothing had happened, so I was scared to get my hopes up.
Mom went to bed so she'd be somewhat rested for a trip to the hospital and Sultan was on stand-by. I was so uncomfortable (and probably unpleasant) that I told him not to come yet, but just to be prepared. Over the next two hours, beginning around 9:30 p.m., the contractions were two minutes apart. I had called my doctor after one hour, but she didn't return my call! After 1 and 1/2 hours, I called again. I also called Sultan and had him come on over. My doctor finally called back a half-hour later and said I hadn't needed to call her and that I should be going to the hospital. I woke my Mom and we all headed for Women's Hospital of Greensboro.
Luckily, I was the only person arriving at 12:05 a.m., so I didn't have to wait long. I went to the check-in room to answer a few questions and had at least three contractions during that brief time. They sent me to another room to be monitored for a little while before sending me up to a labor & delivery room, which is where I was told I'd have my baby. Unfortunately, as it turned out, Kayla disagreed.
After 8 hours of two-minute-apart contractions, and having been restricted to the bed due to Kayla's heartrate dropping, I finally gave in and got an epidural. (Before that I had gotten a tiny bit of relief by changing positions and soaking in the tub with Mom or Sultan running water on my back. When they took those options away, it got a lot harder to bear the pain.) My labor progressed fine even after the epidural, although most of my progress was effacing, rather than dilating. By 11:00-something on the morning of the 10th, I had made it 7 cm and was totally effaced. However, Kayla's heartrate was dropping and staying low, to the point that the nurse got very concerned. She called in my doctor, who told us that we had the option of having a c-section right then, or giving it another hour to see what happened. I felt so torn. I didn't want a c-section at all, but of course I would never forgive myself if something were wrong with our child because I didn't want to have surgery. At the same time, I felt thoroughly exhausted and was concerned about even having the energy to push when the time came. We debated for what felt like a short time, but was probably at least twenty minutes, at which time the doctors and nurses came in and told us a c-section was necessary. Kayla's heartrate had dropped and stayed low for longer than before and they thought it was too risky not to deliver her right then. (We would later learn that her cord was wrapped around her arm and shoulder and was being compressed each time the contractions pushed her further down.)
They had already made me choose one person to come in the O.R. in the event of a c-section and, although I'd chosen Sultan (so that he wouldn't be denied the opportunity to see Kayla's birth), he had opted to let my Mom go instead. He was an emotional wreck by that point, out of concern for Kayla's and my health, and didn't know how helpful he would be under the circumstances. Mom was pleased that this would mean she'd be present for the birth of every one of her grandchildren.
Mom got dressed in what they called a "bunny suit," and I was wheeled off to the operating room. The surgery experience was extremely traumatic for me. It felt like an eternity between the time they took Kayla off the monitor and the time they began surgery and I was concerned they weren't acting fast enough. They injected me with extra anesthesia, which caused me to lose all control over my legs--a very creepy and disturbing feeling. They strapped down my arms, which was also an awful experience, and eventually they brought in my Mom. She was great. She narrated what was going on (or at least the parts I'd want to hear), announced Kayla's official arrival, and followed her to the warming bed where she was examined, documenting it all for me to see in pictures. The nurses had brought Kayla over for me to get a look at my amazing baby girl. Sadly, the nurse over my right shoulder said, "look right here," so I looked at her, and she was pointing to my left. That cost me precious seconds during which I could have seen Kayla. I caught a quick glimpse of her before she was swept off to be checked. Eventually my Mom brought her back over to me. I could see her but couldn't touch her because my arms were strapped down (why, I don't know)! Mom took a couple pictures of us together, which make me cry every time I see them...probably because I'm crying and smiling with joy and relief in the pictures.
That was the last I'd see of Kayla for the next couple hours. She was taken to the nursery, escorted by Nana (my Mom) and I was wheeled off to "recovery" where I had to wait until I gained control of my legs. I was told I'd get to see her for 15 minutes while in recovery, but it took forever. Finally they brought her in and I got to hold my daughter for the first time. It was amazing and wonderful. I breastfed her for the first time then, as well, which is a whole 'nother saga that I'll keep to myself (or at least not post online!). Sultan came in and we had our first picture of the three of us taken. He was so relieved to see us together and well.
After some time I was able to move my legs, so they took me up to the post-partum room where Sultan, Kayla and I spent the next three days. She is a joy to be around. We loved "rooming in" with her, even when she woke us in the night. Every time I see her I am amazed that she is my child, that she is healthy, and that she is so beautiful.
At 11:40 a.m., on September 10, 2008, I was blessed with the most beautiful and excellent gift from God: Kayla Grace Ali, weighing 7 lbs., 15 oz., and 21 and 1/4 inches long. She is by far the best thing to ever happen to me. I never knew I could love someone so much so fast.
posted by Jen at
5:57 PM
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