Evelyn Michele

As mentioned in my previous post, we were a little thrown off after discovering that baby girl was breech and we had to schedule a C-section. However, we didn't feel there was a reason to fear. Jay gave me a beautiful priesthood blessing of comfort before going to bed on Wednesday night. And that feeling of peace was once again confirmed in the priesthood blessing.

On Thursday March 12^th Jay and I woke up at 4:30 am, got dressed, grabbed our suitcase and headed for the Bronson Kalamazoo Hospital. We knew Wednesday night was pretty much our last chance of a good night’s rest for a long time, but neither of us slept due to our excitement and slight apprehension on the day that was ahead. The drive to the hospital was calm and peaceful- quite contrary to what I always imagined it would be. Thanks to the tour we took of the hospital two weeks ago, we knew right where to go. The hospital was also calm and peaceful, it felt as if we had the place to ourselves. After checking in at 6:00am, a nurse escorted us to triage.

After slipping into a hospital gown I basically had to sterilize my entire body by applying a sterilizing solution to the inside of my nose using a q-tip- exactly 30 seconds per nostril; wiping my skin with warm sterilizing wipes- exactly 30 seconds for each area of my body; brushing my teeth with a sterilizing tooth paste for exactly 30 seconds, then gargling sterilizing mouth wash for 60 seconds. 
The nurse came in to administer my IV and said, “I hope this is the worst part of your day.” I’ve had IV’s before and it’s never been a problem, but of course her comment had me worried. As usual, the IV was NOT a big deal and I told her, “If that’s the worst part of my day, then we have nothing to worry about.” 

Jay changed into scrubs and we killed time waiting for the anesthesiologist and Dr. Kloss to arrive. Our nurse, Tracey, popped in to give us a detailed run-down of how the day was going to go. Doctors and nurses are obligated to mention any possibilities of negative side effects and/or things going wrong in the operating room, and thus preparing you for the worst. All morning I acted almost oblivious to the fact that I was about to have major surgery. And it still didn’t feel real that I would be meeting my little girl that day. Up until that point where Tracey walked us through the procedure I had been totally calm, but suddenly I was feeling extremely nervous. Jay was amazing as always. I expressed my fears and he comforted me instantly. He kept reminding me that doctors have been performing C-sections for years, I was in good hands, the doctors were doing all the work and all I had to do was breathe and focus on finally getting to hold our baby girl.

The anesthesiologist came in to discuss the spinal. I was most nervous about the spinal and kind of panicked when they told me Jay couldn’t be in the room while it was being administered. I just hoped the spinal wouldn't be as bad as they made it sound, as with the IV.

At 8:00am Dr. Kloss showed up, Jay and I said a quick goodbye, then I walked with Tracey to the operating room.

The operating room was HUGE, bright, and full of nurses. With Tracey’s help I climbed on the operating table and followed the anesthesiologist’s instructions to bend over as far as possible. Tracey stood right in front of me, holding both of my hands. Brady, the anesthesiologist, kept a casual conversation going to distract me. [I understand why people in the medical field do this, but I can’t help but chuckle… There he was sticking a very large needle into my spine, asking about the nursery colors I had chosen.] The spinal took about one minute, and thankfully was not a big deal! All I felt was a moderate burning sensation when he put the needle in.

First I noticed my bum go totally numb, then the tingling sensation spread to my stomach and down to my legs but not my feet. The nurses warned me about this possibility and said it was nothing to worry about, but I still felt the need to inform them. In a slight panic I said, “I can feel my feet!” Then someone said, “That’s alright, we won’t be touching your feet.” After the spinal was administered, the nurses jumped in quickly- laying me on my back, inserting my catheter, and preparing for the operation. Dr. Kloss did a “pain test” on my stomach before proceeding. The spinal had worked and my stomach was ready for the big incision. Brady continually asked how I was feeling and reminded me that I was still breathing, though it didn’t feel like it due to the pressure in my chest from the spinal. Jay walked in the room and over to me. Things were happening fast and it was exciting but a bit nerve racking, especially when I started feeling all kinds of tugging and heavy sensations in my stomach. I started shaking, but Brady gave me assurance and reminded me to take deep breaths. I asked Jay to keep a conversation going, which helped tremendously to keep me distracted from all the heavy sensations in my stomach.

About 10 minutes into the C-section, I heard someone say, “Ok a bit of pressure… Now a lot of pressure. Dad, you want to see this.” The next few moments will be engraved in my memory forever… There was indeed A LOT of pressure, and then suddenly that pressure was gone completely. My stomach felt empty and light. Then I heard the sweetest, most heavenly sound of a baby. That was MY baby. She was here! I hadn’t seen her yet but I heard her squeak and it was the most precious sound in the world. My eyes watered and I longed to see her. Jay was standing by my head, peeking over the sheet and gasped as he welled up. Then I heard, “Look at all that blonde hair!” I was dying inside, let me see let me see!!!  
Before the operation, I made it clear that I wanted skin-to-skin with my baby as soon as possible after delivery. I understood a C-section would make it complicated, but hoped I wouldn’t be robbed of this experience completely. A pediatric nurse brought our little one over for a quick peek, then Jay followed as they took her across the room to check her health. The table they placed her on was only about 10 feet away. I laid there with my eyes locked on her precious body, trying to admire her every feature from a distance. I thought I’d be more upset about not getting immediate skin-to-skin, but in that moment I was just insanely happy to see and hear my baby girl. She was perfectly healthy and was quickly brought over to me. She was crying as the nurse carried her my way, but stopped the second her body was placed on my chest. After trying to suck on my neck, she laid there in total peace with her arm draped over my face. I kissed her warm, soft body, trying to soak in the moment. Our first ten minutes as a family of three was pure heaven. I sensed her love for us and her joy to finally be with us. As we held her for the first time, Jay said, “She was worth the wait”. There is no doubt about that. And after just our first encounter, I felt I could have waited thousands more years if necessary. 

Evelyn Michele Jensen

March 12, 2015 8:38am

5 pounds, 14 ounces, 19 inches

Jay followed Evelyn and the pediatric nurses to a recovery room while I finished in the operating room. The next forty minutes were long. I was missing Evelyn and Jay, I felt nauseous, was shaking again, and felt tugging along with dull achy/crampy sensations in my stomach as they finished the operation. Brady inserted something in my IV to stop the nausea and tone down the cramping. I kept a conversation going with Brady, which once again kept me distracted and helped pass the time. I am so very grateful for every single doctor and nurse we interacted with that day. What a blessing it was to be surrounded by medical professionals who genuinely cared for our emotional and physical well-being.

I reunited with Jay and Evelyn in the recovery room. I was drowsy and somewhat out of it. My body was mildly itchy [a common side effect to the spinal]. My nurses pushed down on my uterus, checked my bleeding, and asked about my pain level and whether I could move my legs or not. I wasn’t in too much pain, mostly moderate discomfort. And I couldn’t move my legs which was so strange. Meanwhile, Evelyn was having some further testing and measurements done by the two pediatric nurses just to make sure all was well. She was only a couple feet away from me now and I was so anxious to hold her again. She wasn’t crying, just peacefully submitting herself to the nurses. Finally I got to hold her again and try breastfeeding. It took only a few minutes for her to latch on, and once she latched she was golden! Everyone was blown away by what a natural she was. Knowing that breastfeeding can potentially be quite the struggle in the beginning, I was prepared to have to put forth a little more effort and patience. But what a relief to see that my girl knew just what to do. It was a beautiful moment.

We stayed in the recovery room for about an hour. Jay fed me ice chips and shared the news with family members over the phone, sending a photo and announcing her stats as well as her name. [We had her name picked out very early in the pregnancy, so family had been dying of suspense for a long time.] Tracey gave me a button that basically administers pain medicine through my catheter. This gave me control over receiving the medicine when I needed it, without over-dosing. The drowsiness was quite intense and I put up a good fight because I didn’t want to miss a moment with Evelyn. But eventually I lost the fight and Jay had to take her. That was OK though, I wanted to make sure he got lots of bonding time with her too. Once my pain/discomfort was at a tolerable level, Evelyn was placed back on my chest and remained there as they wheeled us up to our room on the mother/baby floor. 

Jay, Evelyn, and I were greeted by a new team of nurses. At the hospital they’re extremely adamant about NEVER sleeping with your baby. Once again I was fighting the urge to fall into a deep snooze because I just wanted to snuggle Evelyn. But once again, the urge was quite strong and I spent the afternoon in and out of sleep. Jay went to the car to gather our things, and Evelyn was placed in a crib right next to my bed. I vaguely remember nurses, lactation consultants, and other hospital staff members coming into our room introducing themselves while I fought terribly hard just to keep my eyes open. 

By that evening the nurses helped me out of bed for the first time since the C-section. Standing up felt almost like my incision was going to rip open. We slowly walked to the bathroom then came back to the bed. It was a relief to see that I was fully capable of walking only hours after having surgery. Pain meds were still coming through my IV at a steady rate, but getting out of bed helped me feel a little more alive and more than up to holding my baby. Jay brought Evelyn over to me. I didn’t sleep much that night because I was too excited about her and knew that as long as I was awake, she could be in my arms. 

Jay was on high alert day and night. Each time Evelyn made a peep he brought her over to me, then stood watch to make sure I didn’t fall asleep while breastfeeding, which I constantly did on that first day. 
It’s incredible to see this man that I love so deeply, interact with OUR child. Jay has always been a meek, patient, and loving person. When he’s holding Evelyn he is extra meek, patient, loving, and so incredibly gentle in the way that he interacts with her. It's a pretty darn heartwarming sight.

By Friday [day after C-section] I had my catheter and IV removed and getting out of bed became easier and easier. The rest of our stay in the hospital was wonderful. We had nurses popping in frequently to check vitals for me and Evelyn, nurses coming in to draw blood and give shots to Evelyn, Dr. Peterson coming in daily to check my incision, nurses coming in to push down on my uterus to make sure it was shrinking down properly [this was terribly more painful than the IV or spinal], lactation consultants giving us pointers and answering questions on breastfeeding [Evelyn was a natural but I was still pretty sore for the first few days and benefited greatly from the consultant's recommendations], pediatric doctors coming in daily to examine Evelyn, a hearing specialist to test Evelyn’s hearing [she passed with flying colors], and other people popping in to take care of miscellaneous items of business such as Evelyn’s birth certificate, and delivering room service three times a day. Besides all the interruptions, and of course being crazy sore and tired, it was a very peaceful and even sacred time for our family. The surgery had been a success, our sweet Evelyn had joined our family in safety and in perfect health and was more precious and beautiful than we could have ever imagined. She melted every nurse and doctor. They all called her “peanut” because she was just so tiny. We were on cloud nine. Nothing else in the world mattered except our little angel baby. When we weren’t taking and sending out pictures of Evelyn, we were holding and staring at her. It never got old, it only got better every single hour.

I had mixed feelings about going home. The hospital staff had been good to us, and having medical professionals literally just a button away was so comforting. By the time Sunday came I was up moving around without much trouble or pain. And Jay and I felt confident we could take care of Evelyn on our own. By 2:00 that afternoon, Evelyn and I were evaluated one last time and officially discharged from the hospital.