Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Happy Birthday Bella! (for real this time)

Although we already did her first birthday party a week ago, today is the real day.

It has been a year since that memorable day, and my tailbone still hurts, but it was more than worth the struggle. Every time she learns something new or starts making new noises a thrill waves through my body. This little princess brings more joy to our life than anything in the world possibly could. She is the sweetest girl in the whole world.

Today Bella is a tireless bundle of energy. Her favorite haunts are, in the bathroom, under the bed, inside her toy basket, and anywhere Mommy and Daddy are. Her favorite food is cake. Her favorite grandparent is...whichever one is reading this right now. Her favorite activities are, emptying cupboards and sitting inside them, pulling all her toys out of the toy basket and climbing into it, removing food storage from under the bed and then crawling under, splashing in the tub, playing “chase” with Mommy and Daddy, and being carried around. She doesn’t like, getting her face wiped, eating food, getting her diaper changed, or letting Mommy get anything done.

***Warning*** Graphic descriptions of child birth follow. Do not read if you have a weak stomach.

One year ago Ryan hurtled us through Harrison Blvd. traffic to get to McKay Dee hospital in Ogden, Utah. My contractions were less than three minutes apart and our ’97 Nissan Sentra didn’t have the horse power to go fast enough for me. Ryan found a wheel chair by the hospital entrance because I couldn’t walk more than two steps between contractions. Before we had crossed the lobby I was begging for a vomit recipient. He couldn’t understand my plea between the dry heaves. When the heaves were no longer “dry,” he understood. He ran along the walls and corners searching for a trash can; meanwhile, a well meaning woman saw my plight and, despite my protests, wheeled me into the ladies room to sponge it off. I told her I was in labor, and all I wanted was for the pain to go away. She continued wiping my face and clothes with damp towels, telling me that after she got me cleaned up we would go upstairs and see about the epidural. Her priorities were mixed up. I was ready to knock her over and push my own wheelchair up to Labor and Delivery when Ryan found me.

My troubles weren’t over after getting upstairs and into a bed. Ryan wouldn’t let me squeeze his hand, or arm through the contractions after two tries. He didn’t want the bones in his hand crushed, and he didn’t like the Indian burn on his arm either. The nurse had a limitless list of questions about our insurance, my personal info, and possible allergies. Her response to, or I should say evasion of, my inquiries about how long it would take them to give me an epidural, was pushing my blood pressure higher and higher. If she would have just given me some sort of estimate I would have left her in peace. Instead, she replied with, “Oh, after we’re done with this,” and, “It shouldn’t be too long,” or “when the anesthesiologist gets here.” Ryan kept apologizing for my being short with her.

I finally got the epidural a couple hours after we got to the hospital. I was in bliss. I could still feel my legs and move them, including the pressure from the contractions, but it didn’t hurt. Unfortunately, baby Bella’s heart rate went down, and stayed down: it hovered around 60, instead of 120, and they couldn’t get it back up. After almost ten minutes they decided to stop my contractions to see if it would help, then they attached a metal probe to her head to get more accurate readings. Bella stabilized and they tried to get my contractions going again. It took more than half an hour for the petosin to kick in but it did. My doctor formulated a plan to make sure the distress of delivery didn’t become too dangerous for our almost born baby. The plan was to “Get the baby out, as quick as possible.” So I pushed, and he pulled with the vacuum. Nine minutes later Isabella *Cecilia Harvey came into the world weighing 5 pounds 5 ounces. I broke my tailbone, and ripped in two places. Ryan just kept repeating, “There’s so much blood!”

*Ryan took advantage of my newfound epidural bliss. He was filling out the birth certificate form when he suggested we make her middle name “Cecilia.” I objected because I thought it was weird to name her after me. Ryan persisted and I couldn’t really think of a reason not to. Now the poor thing will have to learn how to spell a 21 letter name in kindergarten.

9 comments:

Ryan said...

I don't think she will mind being named after the greatest woman in the world!

Lani said...

Happy Birthday Bella!

Sunset Stanley said...

Happy Birthday Isabella! I love the picture of your hands!

Marlene Kennard Harvey said...

Happy Birthday, Bella, You are so adorable. I miss you!!!! I guess I am the grandparent that you love the most because I am reading all about your birth right now!!! Tell mommy and daddy to hurry and bring you to UTAH!xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo I love you! Grandma Harvey

amy said...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BELLA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WE LOVE YOU SOO SOO MUCH - WE HAVE A PRESENT WAITING FOR YOU WHEN YOU GET HERE!

wilde said...

Wow! That's funny about that lady who wanted to wipe off your vomit! Good job on giving birth... even though we've been out of the MTC for years it's still weird to me to think that you're a mom and everything! But congratulations! Your daughter and family are so cute!

Jess said...

Happy Birthday Bella! I can't believe you're a year old.

Celia? Maybe you and I need to have a talk about labor. This story didn't exactly calm my fears about child birth.

Sunset Stanley said...

P.S. my new blog is named justinandsunset.blogspot.com

Anika said...

Happy Birthday Bella! How about some pictures of your cute new bows? Do they fit ok? Hopefully They work, and we are excited to see you in a few weeks!