It's a girl!!
Eliana Joy White was born August 7th at 1:59 p.m. She was 7 pounds 6 ounces and 20 inches long, with a head full of dark hair.
Here is Josh's narrative of the day:
I arise at 6:30 a.m. We need to drop the boys off at a friend’s house, and then head to the hospital. After getting myself ready and after unplugging the video and picture cameras from their respective power sources, I help get the kids to the car and we leave the house.
At 6:45 a.m., Rachel and I are on our way to Providence hospital. As we drive down Imperial, we see a family friend who is on his way to work. And, after mouthing, “Are you going to the hospital?” and reading “Yes” from our expressions, he gives us a thumb’s up and “Good luck!”
We get to the hospital at around 7:00 a.m. After Rachel changes clothes, there’s a lot of waiting.
Finally, at around 8:00 a.m. a woman by the name of May comes in and begins to set up a baby-delivery package on a table. After just a few minutes, Ms. May has arranged a wide array of medical instruments and cloth materials that might be needed at delivery. She instructs a intern nurse as to the various stages of “opening” a labor and delivery scene.
It’s 9:00 a.m. More waiting. The hospital room is cold, but Rachel doesn’t feel it. Because she is not in labor, I take a ten-minute break to warm up outside and to drink a glass of orange juice. When I return, Rachel and I watch a news story on a coal mining catastrophe in Huntington, Utah—as well as other headlines. We also talk about the boys’ school supplies, soccer sign-ups, and other things that need to be done this next week.
The anesthesiologist arrives at around 10 a.m. And, because of Rachel’s quick labors, he has been instructed to begin administration of the epidural before Rachel is given any labor-inducing drugs. Rachel is told to sit up with her back to the doctor so he can put in the spinal catheter. I decide not to watch. Minutes after Rachel sits up, three nurses come into the room and immediately begin checking monitors and quieting alarms. The baby’s heart rate has dropped to the low 40’s, and no one tells us why. Rachel and I are perplexed because labor hasn’t even begun; and we wonder whether an epidural can affect the baby. I ask some questions, and, in response, the anesthesiologist discusses the importance of blood pressure and the effect that an expectant mother’s low blood pressure may have on her baby. Epidurals can cause low blood pressure. But he doesn’t think the epidural is the problem. Still, whatever is causing the problem, the whole scene is quite alarming. The C-section room down the hall is being prepared, just in case. Rachel and I are very glad when Rachel’s doctor arrives.
It is determined that Rachel will need to lie on her side because our daughter seems to do better in this position. Indeed, her heart rate has recovered significantly—i.e., back in the 150’s or 160’s. We’re then told by the attending nurse that she is supposed to wait to administer labor-inducing drugs until the baby has had a half an hour to recuperate.
At around 11 a.m., the attending nurse finally turns on the oxytocin—a Greek-named drug meaning “quick birth.” Shortly thereafter, the contractions start hitting hard. I’ve seen oxytocin work on two of my three boys this way, so I’m not surprised. I’m just glad that Rachel isn’t feeling them. Still, we’re told that the hospital policy is to keep the contractions “below 400” (whatever that means). And then we’re told that Rachel’s contractions are “easily at or over 500.” As I look at the real-time graph on the monitor screen, it becomes clear to me that my daughter’s heart rate is suffering because of the hard contractions. Indeed, I can hear the pounding clicks from a machine that measures my unborn daughter’s heart beat slow down every time Rachel has a contraction. More alarms. More nurses. More calls to Rachel’s doctor. Eventually, the attending nurse cuts back on the oxytocin, and, as the contractions remain “off the chart,” she cuts the oxytocin altogether.
Just after the noon hour, Rachel’s doctor comes in to again assess the situation. He is not surprised to see how quickly Rachel has progressed, and he explains his reasons to the attending nurse. He leaves the attending nurse with instructions to keep monitoring the situation, and he says that he is confident that he’ll be called back soon to deliver the baby. The attending nurse seems doubtful. But, unlike Rachel’s doctor, she wasn’t there when Nicholas was born.
Sometime after 1:00 p.m., the attending nurse follows up on Rachel’s progression and is stunned to find that that baby is about to be born. She commands that Rachel not to push until she has had a chance to call Rachel’s doctor. Fortunately, Rachel’s doctor is in his office just two floors down. He is dressed in delivery garb and ready to go. Within minutes after his arrival, our baby girl is born. Both she and Rachel are doing very well.
After our daughter is born, it is determined that a “true knot” in her cord was likely the cause of her distress during labor. Evidentially this occurs in less than half of one percent (.521%) of all pregnancies. But Rachel and I are very relieved when her Apgar scores come back as nines.
Rachel and I decide to name our baby girl Eliana—which is Hebrew for “God has answered.” We will call her Ellie for short—which is a reference to light and life itself. Welcome, Ellie, to your new home. Welcome.
He's clever, this one. He knows that I won't leave an un-diapered child alone. I hurry and put Ellie's diaper on and pull Nicholas down. "Sit here," I command. "I'll be done in a minute." Nicholas smiles at me. "OK Mamma. Ni-Ni sit."
And so the death-defying acts continue day after day. I guess that is just what makes Nicholas, Nicholas.
