The Varelas

Nate's story
On Saturday, April 30 (the day after my last day of work), Jon and I decided to go out to dinner (Marie Callender's) just the two of us. Who knew it would be our last dinner as a two-person family? :) At dinner, I said to Jon, "You know, it could be any day now. I could have the baby tonight." We both sort of shrugged that off, though. I mean, we weren't ready! The room was a mess! I just finished with work! My due date was still three weeks away!

We got home from dinner around 8:30 p.m. and decided to continue working on the baby's room. Jon had moved the computer desk into our room earlier, and now we worked on transferring the equipment and cables, etc. I knelt on the floor and wiped all the dust off the cables. Kneeling while nine months pregnant isn't the most comfortable position, so after a few minutes I rose to my feet. This was around 9:00. That's when I felt something--like a gush. I waddled to the restroom while saying to Jon, "I think I just wet my pants!" That's when I realized what might have happened: my water broke! From the restroom I said the same to Jon, and he responded with... silence. "What?" he finally asked. The rest of the evening went by rather quickly: I finished packing the bag for the hospital, which I had started earlier that same day. I called my mom (it was past midnight there). At some point, we got in the car and drove to the hospital.

In triage at the hospital, the nurses did a test and confirmed that my water had broken; we were having a baby in the next 24 hours! They attached monitors to my belly--one to monitor the baby's heart rate and one to monitor my contractions. A nurse asked me, "Do you feel that?" but I didn't--I was having a contraction, but apparently it was very mild. These mild contractions continued coming--quite close together--while I was in triage and then after I was admitted. Slowly, they started getting stronger and I could actually feel them, but they were still mild. Because I didn't want to have to take medicine like Pitocin unless absolutely necessary, I tried to move labor along by walking the hallways in the hospital and rocking in a rocking chair in our hospital room (which was luxurious, by the way: large, with TV, VCR, whirlpool bathtub [which I couldn't use since my water had broken], places for two people to sleep in addition to the patient). Jon slept during some of this time.

By early Sunday morning, my contractions were a lot stronger but were still manageable; I could still talk through the pain. That's when I agreed to have some Pitocin. I knew that it is important to have the baby within 24 hours after the water has broken to avoid infection and other risks, and at the rate my labor was going, that didn't seem to be happening. I was started on the Pitocin (through IV), and the contractions got stronger. Much stronger. The doctor said that, once the pain got very intense, they would "check" me for the first time (the doctor does a quick internal exam to check dilation, effacement, and station). By noon, I was ready to be checked, as the pain had gotten pretty bad and I couldn't do any walking or talking through the contractions. The doctor did the exam and noted I was 4.5 centimeters dilated; then she asked, "Are you sure your water broke?" I looked at her in amazement. Yes, I was sure! The nurses had even done the lab test with the slide while I was in triage to confirm it! The doctor said that my water was, in fact, not broken. What had happened earlier had been a "high leak," but my main bag of waters had not broken. (Side note: we were told that we still should have come to the hospital.) This explained why my labor had been progressing so slowly. The doctor manually broke my water, which felt weird. And then, on came a monster contraction, then another. The combination of my (real) water breaking and all of the Pitocin they had been giving me made for some intense pain. This is when I requested the epidural.

The anesthesiologist was quick and efficient while I knelt on the edge of the bed and stayed still through two killer contractions for the numbing needle and the epidural. Ahh, sweet relief! Things progressed nicely from this point. I napped and watched the movie "Babe" for a couple of hours, made some phone calls, and visited with Scott and Kim and Jon's family. At around 5:00, the nurse checked me and said I was 8 centimeters and the baby was at +1 station. I'd be pushing soon! I was relaxed and excited. Jon and I figured this might be a good time to decide on names. Boy: we both mentioned that we had been leaning lately toward Nathaniel Shane as the boy name. That was pretty easy! Girl: of the three names we had picked, Jon's favorite was my number three, and my favorite was his number three. Hmm. We also couldn't really pick a middle name for a girl. Neither of us said it out loud, but I think we just knew it was a boy or at least had been thinking for so long that it was a boy that we just couldn't fathom it being a girl!

At 6:30, I was checked again and deemed ready to push. This was it! I had been feeling the contractions rather strongly--even through the epidural (this is normal, as the hospital gives "walking epidurals" so you can still feel your legs a bit and also still have sensation with the contractions, especially as the epidural wears off); I was even having to do some "focused breathing" through them. The pain was definitely not as bad as it had been around noon, though. So, at 6:30, with Jon on one side of me and the nurse on the other, I began pushing: 3 sets of 10 counts with each contraction. I liked pushing! It made the pain of the contraction almost nonexistent as I was focusing on something else. Jon was such a great support, too. He dabbed my face with a wet washcloth in between the contractions, and then he supported my head and one leg (a nurse supported the other) while I pushed. It was so cute--he also seemed to be holding his breath with me while I did the 10-counts. :) I pushed for an hour or so before the doctor came in and the room was prepped for delivery. With just a few more contractions and some major pushing, baby Nate was born! At 7:44 p.m., the doctor said, "It's a little.....Dad, what is it?" and Jon announced, "Boy!" They handed our son to me right away:

He was perfect! The nurse rubbed his back a bit while he was on my chest to get him to let out some more cries, and I cried myself as I held this soft, perfect little child.

Nathaniel Shane weighed in at 6 pounds, 8 ounces and measured 19 inches long, with a 9/9 on his APGARs. After he was measured and footprinted, I nursed him for the first time (with some help from my great nurse, Holly), and we enjoyed some time as a family.

My mom's flight arrived from Virginia into John Wayne just three hours after Nate was born; Scott picked her up and whisked her to the hospital, where she met her first grandchild. Nate had already had some visitors: Scott and Kim, Neil and Casey, Kevin and Amy, Grandma Colleen and Grandpa Ray, Aunt Jennifer, and Aunt Janel.

We spent Sunday and Monday nights in the hospital. I was able to get up and walk around within a few hours, and I have made a quick recovery and feel great! We all came home mid-day on Tuesday; here's Nate after his first car ride:

The pediatrician who checked Nate at the hospital told us he has jaundice. They checked his levels and told us we did not have to take home special lights to put him under, but I had to return to the pediatrician's office on Thursday to have him checked again (he was checked and was deemed OK! No special lights necessary, just "sunning" in indirect sunlight). Here is Nate sunning: