Julia's birth story

I wrote out the story of when Allie was born awhile ago, and since Julia will be four years old tomorrow, I thought I'd write hers.

You can't help but compare your first pregnancy to subsequent pregnancies. In my experience, being pregnant with Julia and delivering her was far superior to my situation with Allie (sorry, Allie!). First, I knew what to expect in being pregnant. I pretty much knew how my body would feel and I was lucky a second time, again I never threw up. I felt confident that I could take care of an infant (completely unlike with Allie). And I was just much more relaxed in general, somehow sustaining that wonderful feeling for the whole nine months that things were going to be just fine.

This, despite the fact that since I was almost 38 when she was born, we had a special test at 12 weeks to check for Down Syndrome. And despite the fact that because of a borderline test for diabetes at about 6 months, my doctor put me on a diet as though I had gestational diabetes (I didn't). As a result, until my last week or so, I'd only gained 5 pounds while pregnant. Eh, less weight to lose later.

So things progressed very smoothly, until about 30 weeks or so. Then my doctor said we needed to settle on a method of delivery. Did I want to try VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) or would I want to schedule another c-section. After Allie was born, I attended Mother-Baby classes at the hospital for the whole 12 weeks I was on maternity leave. In my class of other first-time moms, there were an extraordinary number who had also had c-sections, including two who had developed nasty infections afterwards. I read the literature and decided that I still wanted to schedule another c-section. So we settled on Julia's birthdate. And that situation, the fact that we knew upfront that I'd probably have another c-section and so we'd be picking our child's birthdate, is one of the big reasons that we didn't find out the baby's sex ahead of time. When you know the birthdate and the approximate time of delivery, finding out the sex is about the only fun thing left.

I picked July 30, 3 1/2 years to the day from Allie's birthdate. So when Julia turns four, Allie turns 7 1/2. When Allie turns 8, Julia turns 4 1/2. And so on.

On the day of Allie's birth, there was a snowstorm. On the day of Julia's birth, it was hot! When Greg drove to the hospital on Allie's birth day, he missed our exit because he was so distracted and we had to backtrack to the hospital. When Greg drove to the hospital on Julia's birth day, he turned too short on a divided multi-lane street right by the hospital and we drove a block directly towards oncoming traffic before we could turn off. I was calm; Greg, not so much.

We got to the hospital, were assigned a room, and I changed into my lovely hospital attire. Then I got in bed and we waited, and waited. Finally, a nurse came in and we filled out a bunch of paperwork with her. All very calm. Then, another nurse came in (a student, as it happened) and she tried to start an I.V. Two unsuccessful pokes later, the nurse accompanying her tried in a third place. Nope. I was dehydrated since I hadn't eaten or drunk anything since midnight.

OK, fine. Another "more experienced" nurse came in and gave it a whirl, in two more places. Uh uh. My surgery was scheduled to start at 8 and I still didn't have an I.V. Finally, they said the anesthesiologist would put in the I.V. when we got to the operating room. The appointed time came and Greg and I headed downstairs with a nurse in an elevator. I walked, in bare feet. It was summer, I didn't know I'd need socks and I didn't want Greg to have to remember to bring my slippers back up. He was already kind of freaked out.

Greg and I said goodbye so they could prep me and he could get his doctor duds on. In the O.R., the anesthesiologist sniffed when told no one could get an I.V. in. He took out a steel bar, pounded it on the back of my hand (it hurt like hell!) and in a minute flat, I had an I.V. It pays to call in a pro. My doctor and lots of other people were bustling around. Dr. Stoffel herself helped to hold me in the right position for my spinal, then suddenly my feet felt very warm and I was starting to feel numb. The weirdest sensation was from my numb butt.

After a few more preliminaries, Greg was allowed in (we've got this on video). The doctors checked that I was OK and off we went. I felt a lot of tugging and a lot of pressure on my stomach and lower chest, but not any pain. After some slurping noises, the doctor pulled out her head, with lots of dark hair. She didn't look too happy (I've seen the videotape). One more tug and she slid out--it's a girl!

We were a family of four.

Afterwards, I felt much better in the recovery room than I had for Allie's birth. That was kind of a nightmare, but this was kind of special. I was able to hold Julia and because I already knew I wasn't going to try to nurse, we got to feed her instead of having her starve while I tried to get things started. We were back to my room by about 10, after I demonstrated that I could almost wiggle my toes again.

At about 10:30, my in-laws brought Allie to meet her sister for the first time. I was feeling really good, so Allie climbed in bed with me and Julia, and I got to hold both of my girls for the first time together. It was cool. I had such a good feeling overall that I actually stopped using the push-button medication administrator. I didn't need it as long as I didn't wiggle around too much. Julia was born on a Wednesday and we went home on Saturday, after they took out my staples. She didn't develop jaundice, like Allie had, and she was a very good baby, just like Allie.

And now it's been four years and that little baby is long gone. Lately, I've been having baby yearnings again. I don't really want to go down that road again (for one thing, I'm too old!), but I sometimes miss having a little one around. As Greg and I (especially me) said over and over again after Julia's birth, we're so lucky with how our lives have turned out so far, and that we got to do the whole baby thing another time. It's gone so fast.

I know I'm going to blink and Julia's going to be starting second grade (instead of Allie, this year). Then they're going to be in high school together. But I'll always remember when they were born, and they'll always be my babies.

Happy birthday, Julia!