Kate Rosella Fjeldsted

The Stats:

Born at 12:56pm August 26, 2013
Weight: 7 lbs. 8 oz.
Height: 19.75 inches

The Story:

We had just moved into our new apartment on Saturday.  Sunday was spent with family- Paul's parents were in town and we all went to Paul's aunt and uncle's ward to listen to his cousin, Andrew, give his homecoming talk.  Sunday morning while we were getting ready for church, Paul came up to me and said, "Happy Anniversary!"  Huh??  Oh yeah, it was the 25th, our six year anniversary.  I'd completely forgotten.  Oops.  We asked Trudy if she would watch Parker the next evening, so we could go out to dinner.  (By the way, Paul and I did have dinner together Monday night and Trudy did babysit Parker for us, but it was very different than what we had imagined.)  Luckily, Paul's dad had bought some slices of cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory on Saturday, so we ate them in celebration Sunday night.  We had CF cheesecake at our reception six years ago, so it was very fitting.

My water broke several hours later, at 3:50am Monday morning.  It was in the quiet of the night and it gave me time to come to terms with what was about to happen.  I hadn't been having any contractions and I was quite surprised.  I wasn't due for two more weeks.  I started timing my contractions, which were uncomfortable, but not painful.  My doctor said that when each contraction is a minute long, and five minutes apart for an hour, it's time to go to the hospital.  Because my water broke, I knew that the baby would be coming within 24 hours (they don't like to let you go longer than that because of the risk of infection), but I was in no rush to get to the hospital because I knew that first-time labors can last a long time (and since I had a c-section with Parker, I was a first-timer).  I thought that I'd just lay in bed for awhile and try to get some more rest before I woke up Paul.  Laying in bed ways not an option for very long.  The contractions were five minutes apart for about 20 minutes and then they were a minute and a half to two minutes apart.  Laying down was uncomfortable and I started pacing our bedroom.

Finally at 5:00am I woke Paul up and told him the exciting news and asked him to call the hospital to make sure it was okay that we came in.  Looking back, that seems a little weird to have him call and ask their permission, but I thought that maybe I was timing the contractions wrong because they were closer together than I thought they would be.  At this point, the contractions were becoming more painful.  The hospital said that regardless of the timing of my contractions, to come in.  If my water really had broken (there was absolutely no doubt in my mind), then I would be staying at the hospital, and if it hadn't then they'd probably send us home.  Paul suggested that I pack a bag, or something, and I looked helplessly at our box-cluttered bedroom.  Ha!  Everything was packed, and anyway, it was becoming difficult to think clearly through the contractions.  I asked Paul to put my phone, iPad, and both their chargers in a bag; I could think of nothing else that I absolutely needed that Paul couldn't go buy at a nearby store, or come back and get.  I went out into the living room where John and Trudy were sleeping and told them that my water had broken and we were on our way to the hospital.  Them being there was truly a blessing.  They had driven to southern California at the last minute to help us move to San Diego and Trudy was planning on staying through the week to help us unpack.  On my Monday to-do list was to get in touch with our new ward's Relief Society president and let her know that I was pregnant and ready to pop at any moment.  My Grammy had offered to watch Parker while we were at the hospital, but she lived an hour away, and I wanted to have a backup just in case.  I love that the church offers an immediate support system, but to have a stranger watch Parker would not have been ideal.

Anyway, back to labor:  Another thing on my to-do list was to find out where the hospital was.  One reason I love Kaiser is because they are so organized and streamlined.  When I found out we were moving, I called to make sure it wouldn't be a problem to change doctors and hospitals at 38 weeks pregnant.  They said, nope, no problem at all.  Just choose a new doctor and hospital and set up an appointment.  All the records are electronic and are easily transferred.  Paul punched "Kaiser" into google maps on his phone, and we were on our way.  While we were in the car, I told him that I thought the hospital was in Mission Valley, about 20 miles away, but he said that there was actually one much closer.  Great!  He took full advantage of the "my wife is in labor" situation and ignored all speed limit signs.  Good thing it was so early and there wasn't traffic on the freeway yet- we may not have lived to tell this tale.  I eventually told him that 90mph was a tad on the fast side, and to please slow down, I'd like to make it there in one piece thankyouverymuch.  I kept thinking that I had been sure that the closest hospital was in Mission Valley, so I asked if he was sure that this was a hospital and not just a Kaiser clinic.  Hmmm...  He said he wasn't sure.  Minutes later we arrived at our destination and sure enough, it was a just a clinic.  The "No Emergency Services" sign glared at us.  Paul called the hospital again and asked for their address, and this time that's what he punched into his phone.  We got back on the freeway and eventually made it to the hospital.

The maternity check-in is in the ER, so that's where we headed.  The nurse told me that I needed to sit in a wheelchair and that she'd take us upstairs to the maternity ward.  For some reason, the thought of sitting down and of her even making the suggestion was very annoying.  I relented, but waited until the next contraction passed.  It was painful and I was a bit emotional and I cried through that contraction.  She was very comforting, saying, "I know it hurts, mama.  I know."  That won me over and I wasn't mad at her anymore.

We went upstairs and Paul signed some paperwork, and they took me to a triage room, where we waited for a nurse come check me and get vital signs.  I was dilated 4 cm and 70% effaced (I think).  When she checked me I think she did it with a chain saw and I was mad at her.  She said that we just had to wait a little while for a room, and then they'd take me over to labor and delivery.  We finally made our way over to the L and D room where lots of people were coming in and out and saying things to me that I don't really remember.  All the while the contractions are getting more painful.  They asked if I wanted an epidural.  Were they crazy?  Of course I wanted one.  I would have loved getting one hours ago.  They said I needed 500mls of fluid before I could get it, so they started me on the IV.  I can't really describe how contractions feel, except that they hurt.  I did a lot of moaning and moving around in the bed through each contraction.  The nurses kept commenting on how I was "uncomfortable."  They must be trained on using euphemisms in nursing school because saying I was "uncomfortable" is the understatement of the century.  I did, however, really appreciate that they kept reminding me to breathe.  One nurse kept saying, "Blow out all those birthday candles!  Pretend your 87 years old and you have to blow out every single one!"  And they kept telling me that I was doing a good job, which I appreciated.  Paul played the strong, silent type through it all.  He was probably afraid that I'd start cursing at him or something, but for next time, now we know that I like the encouragement and reminders to breathe, so he can take over that role.  I also learned that all humor is wasted on me during contractions, which I let him know while he was making jokes in the car ride to the hospital.  What a good learning experience this labor was!

The anesthesiologist finally came and delivered the goods- I think it was around 8:30 am.  I have never been happier than when I could no longer feel the contractions.  After she gave me the epidural, I think I felt four more contractions, and then that was it.  The nurse began re-telling me what she and other people had be telling me, but now I was able to process it all.  She gave us the run down of how labor for first-timers usually progresses.  She said on average, women dilate 1 cm every two hours, so I would probably be delivering that evening.  She explained that right after the baby was born, they would dry her off and then lay her on my chest for an hour, which is better at regulating babies' temperature than putting them under a warming lamp.  She said lots of other things too that I can't remember, she was quite chatty.

At 10:20 the nurse midwife came in to see how things were going.  I asked her what would happen if I wasn't progressing like I should be.  I had to have the baby within 24 hours of my water breaking, and because I was going VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Cesarean), they don't like to augment labor with pitocin, which can cause too-strong contractions and potentially lead to uterine rupture where the incision scar tissue is.  She said that if at that point I hadn't progressed past 4 cm, then she would like to give me a small dosage of pitocin.  She said that they could put a heart rate monitor on the baby's head to ensure that she wasn't in distress, which would help them know how much pitocin to give.  Anyway, she checked me and I was dilated to 7 cm, so it wasn't even an issue.

Yay!  I was happy that things were progressing so well.  The nurse suggested that Paul go get something to eat, since he hadn't had breakfast and she didn't want him fainting when it was go time.  While he was gone, she was doing whatever nurses do and before she left, she said, "Now just don't start pushing without me here."  She kind of said it as a joke, but it was like she had read my mind.  "Actually," I said, "I kind of feel like I have to push right now."  She said that she had better check me just in case.  Well, what do you know, I was dilated 10 cm.  It was 10:40 am.  She said that the baby just needed to drop down a little bit more and then I could start pushing.  Paul came back and once he was finished eating, I started pushing.  After a while of pushing I told the nurse that sometimes it was hard to push where I was supposed to- it kind of felt like I was pushing in my head.  She said that she could bring in a mirror and that that might help me focus my efforts.  At first I was against the idea, but she assured me that it helps lots of women, so I agreed.  She was right.  It really did help.

One thing I was concerned about with the epidural is that I wouldn't know when to push.  That wasn't an issue at all.  The nurse made me tell her when I felt a contraction, and then she and Paul would come over and hold my legs and she'd coach me through it.  Sometimes I'd have to ask, "Is this a contraction?" and she'd look at the monitor and say yes or no, but most of the time I knew.  I was also able to move my legs and move around in the bed, which is another thing I was concerned about with having an epidural.

I'm not sure how long I pushed, but eventually the baby crowned and they called in the nurse midwife.  I pushed a couple more times with her.  To prevent more tearing, the midwife didn't have me push during the last contraction before the baby was delivered, she just let the contraction do the work, and out baby came, at 12:56pm with a conehead that perhaps only a mother can love.

The recovery and adjustment has been so much easier than it was with Parker and the c-section.  In the hospital I was up and moving within hours of delivery.  I was still sore, especially where the stitches were (all four of them), but at least I wasn't in a drugged-out state like I was before.  Nursing has been infinitely better.  With Parker I was painfully sore for six weeks, and nursing wasn't pain-free until he was three months old.  This time around, I think the pain lasted for two weeks, and it no longer hurts at all.  I'm not sure, but I think not giving her a pacifier has made a difference.  With Parker we plugged up those cries with a binkie starting in the hospital.  I think maybe that gave him nipple confusion from the get go.  He never really opened up his mouth as wide as he should have to latch on, which is why it hurt me so much.  They say to wait three to four weeks to introduce a pacifier/bottle until good nursing habits have been established to avoid nipple confusion.  Over the last several days I've now tried giving her a pacifier and she won't take it.  Perhaps she'll have the last laugh...

Before we went to the hospital we still hadn't decided on a name.  We had talked about it only one other time and had disliked the name the other person suggested (I liked Nora, Paul liked Marie), so we just hadn't brought it up again. I guess we were avoiding confrontation.  Once we were in the hospital and the birth certificate lady kept pestering us, we guessed it was time to make a decision.  Paul really went to work scouring the internet.  By the way, I had made a list of names I liked while visiting my bff, which I subsequently lost.  Then, I made another list, and I had all the names from my baby shower that people had suggested.  Paul went home on Tuesday to get cleaned up and I asked him to bring those names back with him, but he couldn't find them.  They were packed away in some box...  Anyway, Paul searched the internet for names and I tried to remember the ones that I had written down.  Some of Paul's favorites were Rose, Grace and Kate.  Within hours of leaving the hospital, we had narrowed our list to three names: Nora, June and Kate.  (Nora and June were from my list.)  We decided on Kate.  For her middle name Paul suggested Rosalind, after Rosalind Franklin, the woman who helped discover the structure of DNA.  That was a little too weird for me, so we started looking through familysearch.org to try and find a family name that fit with Kate as a first name.  I have a great-grandma whose name was Rosella.  It was a hit with Paul (apparently he really loves the name Rose or names that are similar).  The birth certificate lady had given us 15 more minutes to fill out the paperwork before she would make us go to the county office after we left the hospital.  We quickly called my dad and asked him if great-grandma Rosella would be a worthy name sake (I had never known her).  He assured us that she would and finally, hallelujah, this baby had a name!  Kate Rosella Fjeldsted.

We love little Kate and I think her name really fits her.  She has a very pleasant disposition and hardly cries.  (Knock on wood.)  I can't believe how well Parker has adjusted.  I thought it would be a real struggle for him, but he loves giving Kate kisses and softly stroking her hair.  He's constantly asking if her eyes are open and if they are, he loves to look at them.

I'm adjusting too.  Some days are better than others.  Sleep deprivation really does weird things to a person.  I have major guilt about not playing more with Parker and about using PBS as a babysitter.  Some days we don't even get out of the house.  I try to keep reminding myself that things will get better, I'll eventually have more energy and be able to see straight, but I'm afraid that by the time that happens his brain will have turned to mush with all the tv he's been watching.  Oh, well, until then he's making great friends with Daniel Tiger and Super Why.  :)

And now, more pictures:

Kate had jaundice and we had to give her phototherapy at home.  She looked like the cutest little alien you ever did see.



First family photo:

Mama and baby girl:

(by the way, appropriate comments about this photo would be: "Wow, I can't believe you lost all your baby weight so quickly." or "You are really rocking the natural look." or "Why is Heidi Klum holding your baby?!"  Inappropriate comments would be: "Are you going on vacation- is that why you're packing those extra bags under your eyes?" or "Two words: Eye Liner." or "Bet you can't wait to hit the treadmill!" Just FYI...)