This Will Embarrass You...

Dear Eleanor,  

Hello, baby girl! I am so glad to see you! I thought I would write you a letter and tell you all the details of your birth, just on the off chance that you don't remember how everything happened.  I am warning you now though, I am going to put some "too much information" details in here that will embarrass you at a later date.

You were due on June 11, 2011. Well, that date (and a few days after that) came and went. You were quite comfy where you were and showed no signs that you were planning on greeting your public any time soon.

On Sunday, June 12, Grandma Sherry, Great-grandma Shirley and Uncle Austin arrived from Oregon. Though I was more than a little irked that you decided to overstay your welcome inside my body, I was a little glad that you did; the Grandmas were pretty excited that they could be here for your birth!

On Monday, June 13, I called the doctor and asked to schedule my (or is it your?) induction. Instead, the doctor asked me to come in to see him. After he checked me (and you) and was reminded of how comfy you were in there, the doctor and I had a nice little chat about how to make you come out.

We decided that I would go to the hospital that night and get some medicine to help soften/ripen my cervix.  You were positioned in such a way that my cervix was not thinning; instead it was moving higher up into my body and wrapping around the back of your head.  Let me tell you, when the doctor and nurses checked me when my cervix was in this position, it hurt like the dickens!

*Last picture. 40 weeks 2 days.  On the way out the door to be induced.*

I went to the hospital at 9 P.M.  I admit, I was kind of scared.  I had heard of some terrible things happening during an induction and I didn't want those things to happen to us!  I don't think I stopped praying the whole night!  Grandma Sherry came with me to the hospital so that Dad could stay home and get a good night's sleep since he had to work the next day.

The cervical medicine went in at 10 P.M.

*Just hanging out at the hospital while the medicine works its magic.*

Tangent #1: The clock in our hospital room was stuck at 1:24ish.  It became the star of many a joke during the whole birthing experience. The nurses and doctors had to use their cell phones to see what time it really was.  When the time came for me to push, I was really hoping you would come out at 1:24 P.M.

At the hospital, they put monitors on my belly to keep track of your heartbeat and my contractions.  Though it was pretty neat to watch my contractions and always hear your heartbeat, I learned to hate those monitors.  Why, you ask?  Because of you, Munchkin!  You wouldn't hold still; every half an hour or so the nurse would come in and "wake me up" (like I ever had time to actually go back to sleep after these visits) in order to reposition the monitors and get you back to where we could hear your heartbeat.  I didn't get much sleep that night...or any night since then, actually. 

By 4:30 A.M. on Tuesday, June 14, I was in too much pain to try and pretend to sleep anymore. The contractions were about seven minutes apart at that time.  I decided that I would bounce on the big exercise ball I brought with me.  I thought bounching would help the pain (I used the ball when I was in labor with your sister).  The ball idea was both good and bad.  As soon as I started bouncing, the contractions got stronger (seven to eight on pain scale) and closer together (three minutes apart). 

Tangent #2: A couple of weeks before you were due people started to ask me how I was feeling and I would tell them that I felt "Great! That [was] the problem!" I wanted to feel pain then because it meant that you would be on your way.  When I was bouncing on the ball, I was wishing I was more appreciative of the non-pain times. 

At 6 A.M.  I was dilated to a four and I asked for the epidural. I don't remember the contractions I had with your sister being that strong when I was only dilated to a measly four! At this time, I was also put on pitocin to help make the contractions stay regular.  Epidurals have a bad habit of slowing down labor. 

*Prepping for the epidural. Grandma was making fun of my hat.*

All I wanted to do was sleep!  I knew that I would need my rest in order to get you out of me! I was hoping the epidural would get rid of the pain and I would be able to sleep.

I took some time for the epidural kick in.  Even when it did though, it was difficult to sleep because of your moving about and not staying where the monitors could hear you. 

*Sleeping...sort of.*

Tangent #3: Great-grandma Shirley came to the hospital around 8:15 A.M.  Your sister and Austin spent the day with aunt Stefanie and Barbie at Disneyland.

Around 10:30 A.M. the epidural started to wear off.  If you could have seen the paper the contractions were being recorded on, you would have called it the "Baby Mountain Range" because that's what the contractions looked like.  Up, up, up then down, down, down but never reaching the zero mark.  My pain was back up to an eight.

*This is my "breathing through a contraction" face.  I think I look like I was crying in this picture.  I wasn't! I was a big girl and didn't even come close to crying until you were born...and those were happy tears, not pain tears.*

Tangent #4: Wondering where your dad was during all this? He was popping in to visit whenever he had a free minute from work.  He was a very good multi-tasker all day!  He managed to get quite a bit done for work and still be there for when you were born! He knew I was in good hands with the Grandmas being at my beck and call.

The anesthesiologist came back but wouldn't give me very much more of the "goods" because I was dilated to a seven.  She wanted me to be able to feel when I needed to push you out.  The epidural was just supposed to take the edge off the pain.

Around 12:15 P.M. the doctor came in and broke my water.  I was worried that it might have meconium in it because your sister's did, but everything was all clear (pun intended).  You did awesome during the whole labor process!  Your heartrate stayed normal and you were moving around; the doctor was impressed with how well you handled it all. 

Tangent #5: I'm the one who ended up neededing oxygen!  I had almost pushed you out of me when I started to run out of energy.  The doctor had me rest for a few minutes while I wore a silly oxygen mask and breathed BIG deep breaths, in and out.

The anesthesiologist did her job wonderfully because I could feel when it was time for you to come out!  I started to push around 12:45 P.M.  Grandma Sherry was on one side of me and your dad was on the other.  All together, we made a pretty good team! I was so tired and pushing a kid out is no small chore!  I could feel you coming out (and the damage that was being done to the lower half of my body) the whole time. Though it was painful, I am glad I had some feeling "down there" because I felt what was going on and what my body needed to do. Your shoulders were the worst part; they took a lot of twisting and pulling to get out.  I was scared for you then; I felt like my bones were keeping you trapped and I couldn't do anything to make the space bigger to help you out.  When you finally came out, I asked to have you put on my chest so I could snuggle you while we waited for your umbilical cord to stop pulsing so we could clamp and cut it.

Tangent #6: I wrote out a birth plan a couple of weeks before you were born.  Everything went according to the plan, except for the fact that I had to be induced in order to get you to come out.

Grandma Sherry started crying and then I started crying.  I was so happy you were safe!  You were so beautiful! (And still are!)

You were born at 1:28 P.M. You weighed 8 lb. 9 oz. and were 20 in. long. 

Tangent #7: The clock had been stuck at 1:24 since I arrived at the hospital, but sometime after you were born it moved to 1:28.  Weird, huh?  We didn't notice the change until you were a couple of hours old.

I snuggled you for a long time while they sewed me up and did lots stuff to check on you to make sure you were healthy and happy.  Then the nurses cleaned you up and gave you to your dad.  He loves you a lot you know.

*Daddy snuggling you.*

*Looking at your dad.*

It took your dad and I about seven hours to decide that you were our Eleanor Vella Mecham. We have liked your name and had it stashed away for just the right daughter, for a very long time.  Your middle name comes from grandpa Arvel's mom, Vella Stella.  She was a wonderful woman; though she now lives with Heavenly Father, she is still an excellent role model for you. For nicknames, we will be calling you Ella Vella or maybe even sometimes, Eva (since there might be a kajillion Ella's in your classes at school). 

You are not very old, but you are already your own little person.  These are some things about you that I already know by heart:
- You are so "handsy!" You grab onto anything and everything within reach.  When the nurses would check your lungs and heart with a stethoscope, you would grab onto it and we would have to pry your hands off! I don't think your sister held my hand until she was a couple of months old; you hold my hand all the time. 
- You took to "the boob" right away with an excellent latch! There are times though, if we wait too long to feed you, you get very upset and seem to forget how to latch on. 
- You can be loud! You have a scream that is somewhere between a velociraptor and fingernails on a chalkboard.
- Your sister loves to hold you and share her toys with you.

We are so glad you are here! We love you so much! 

*Sisters meeting for the first time.*

*Great-grandma Shirley made your Coming Home outfit.*

*Arm tucked under your head.* 

*You were making the "Feed Me!" face in this picture.*

*Snuggling Grandma.*

If you need anything, let me know!
Love, Mom