Blogging about life and living it to the fullest. Pretend princess/mermaid. Actual basic southern millennial trophy wife.
Keeping Up with the Mazzolas

Savannah James Mazzola: a Birth Story

So, yeah. That didn’t take long.

I had been having contractions all night before we decided to get up and go to church as a family Sunday morning, January 14th. So when they continued throughout the service, I knew we were going to at least have to call to see what we needed to do.

My cerclage was supposed to be cut Monday, but as y’all know, we discovered at our last visit that baby girl was breech. So that meant we were going to be scheduling a version to flip her– I really wanted to avoid a c-section. Especially after all the trouble we went through to get to VBAC with Reese. Then James was a VBAC as well, even though he was only 20 weeks.

This means going forward, I’m pretty much guaranteed a c-section. I will admit that this time around is drastically different in terms of pain– because we’ve been able to stay on top of it, and I’ve been up walking around, and I think that’s made all the difference.

But anyways.

I was having pretty intense contractions all day Sunday, and I wasn’t really keeping track of how close together they were– I just knew they were regular enough to be annoying, which meant something was going on. So after church, we headed home to put the boys down for a nap, and Matt and I took a few minutes to watch our current Netflix binge– The Walking Dead, and I played around on the computer. Then the contractions started to get close enough to where I was concerned. So we tracked them, and they were about 3-5 minutes apart.

We called grandparents and got babysitters lined up to take care of the boys, and we called the on-call doc. He told us to come in for observation. I was cool with this because I thought maybe he could try to flip baby girl and cut the stitch, and everything would be smooth sailing. Nope. That’s not how life works for the Mazzola family.

Matt and I decided to head in to triage to be checked out, but on the way I needed to stop at Target to buy a silky bathrobe. Because I’m basic like that. I almost got a Starbucks, but I resisted the temptation. While I was in Target for ten minutes, I had three painful contractions, and I started sweating. That’s when I knew this was legit. Savannah was going to be born today, whether by c-section or not. She wanted out.

We got to the hospital and settled into triage where they hooked me up to the monitor, saw I was really contracting, and decided they would attempt a version. The doc didn’t really think it was going to work because my contractions were so close together, and the stitch was the only thing holding this baby in, so I had a bad feeling the whole time. And these contractions were just getting worse. Holy hell. Back labor is a bitch.

After two doses of terbutaline to try to stop the contractions (fail, fail), and a couple minutes of attempting the version, we abandoned ship and decided to do the c-section because I was in active labor, and Savannah’s butt was settled nicely into my pelvis. She wasn’t going to be moving anywhere.

We got prepped for the c-section, and the radio was playing in the OR– Whitney Houston or something of the like. I wasn’t impressed. I requested Celine Dion, but we couldn’t find a good satellite station for her, so my next choice was Def Leppard. Miss Savannah James Mazzola was delivered via emergency c-section to the tune of Photograph. Little girl’s got good taste.

She was born with meconium all over her, and since she was only 36 weeks and 6 days, she was considered to be premature. So she needed a little bit of help getting oxygen, and she wasn’t crying very much. We did hear her cry though, so I knew everything was going to be okay. I didn’t get to hold her right away (or that night, for that matter), because she was whisked away to the NICU. I was strangely at peace with that. Maybe because I’m exhausted. Maybe because I’ve got complete faith in modern medicine. Maybe because of everything we’ve gone through this past year with Reese. I know she’s in good hands, and I know she’s going to be okay.

She weighed 6lbs and 13 oz, and she looks just like her brothers. It’s uncanny. She is absolutely beautiful and perfect, and she’s alert and lifting her head up already. I know this little girl is going to be tough, and I can’t wait to see her grow. We are still on cloud nine to have a little girl in the family. Matt and I weren’t sure it was ever going to happen, but we’re so glad that it did. And I can’t wait to introduce this sweet girl to her brothers. They are so excited to meet their baby sister!

We’re still in the hospital for a day or two, and I’m not sure how much longer little miss has in the NICU, but hopefully by the end of this week, we’ll be able to be home as a family of five. If anyone wants to bring some champagne, you’re more than welcome! This momma sure needs a drink!

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