It changes everything
Thinking about having this baby boy has gotten me thinking back to when Brynne was born. There are so many things about being pregnant with her that I remember clearly...and so many things that seem to fade over time. I'm so excited to experience bringing another child into the world in a few weeks...but at the same time, I want to remember the experiences I had with my first baby....the girl who made me a mama. So, in honor both of Brynne's 3rd birthday this week AND to preserve my memory before I have two stories to tell, this is her birth story.
DISCLAIMER: This post is for my own memory and for my children, and is exceedingly long, probably boring, and maybe a little detailed (within reason). Therefore, I'd be happy to have you read or skip, but proceed at your own risk (especially all two of my male readers :)
Having a due date can be very deceitful. I knew this going into pregnancy, both from common sense and from the random women in the grocery store who like to remind first time moms that they have NO idea what they are doing, or when the baby will come :)
Even so, when I hit that 37 week mark, I secretly began thinking, "maybe soon!" She could be a little early, right? The thing is, you just never know...and the anticipation is killer :) At 37 weeks, my mom graciously gave me a pedicure (because seriously, who wants to be in labor without pretty toenails??) and I thought, "this'll probably be the nail polish I wear to the hospital!". It wasn't much, but the thought was exciting. Then 38 weeks ticked by, and the anticipation grew....closer and closer! 39 weeks ticked by....mom had to do my toes again, but that was great because THIS time, it would definitely be the last time. 40 weeks and the due date came and went. Now we were in hyper-anticipation mode. We could go anytime! Have I mentioned that every check the doctor gave me showed that I was "nothing"? No dilation, no effacement. Nothing. Some women just dilate all at once, they told me. No worries. 41 weeks. Toenails painted AGAIN. Ugh. I discovered stretch marks on my belly for the first time, along with a number of other pregnancy discomforts that suddenly cropped up. NO WAY. It was time for this little girl to come OUT :) Aaron jokingly refers the the time period following the due date as "dark days". I can't say I blame him. The poor guy would come home from work and find a large, crazy lady with cankles at home who would invariably be either crying, sleeping, or scrubbing the kitchen floor on her hands and knees--AGAIN--in an attempt to bring on labor. Do I need to mention that sometimes this unstable creature would be doing more than one of those things at one time? And don't even get me started on the time that (after seeing a sweet neighbor lady and her baby) occurred to me that the baby could come out looking different than us (you know, like Asian or African American...you know, ancestry or something....cuz that makes good sense) and that Aaron would never believe she was his baby.....don't laugh, for a week or so there this genuinely concerned me. Like he says, dark days :)
You can all send my husband sympathy messages later.
But I digress.....
41 weeks and 3 days brought us back to the doctor again, where she attempted to check me, and promptly informed me that NOTHING was happening. Again. To which my response was to try not to burst out crying in her office (I was successful), and Aaron's response was to coin the phrase "cervix of steel", which he still uses. It's funnier now than it was at the time :)
As I thought about driving home to wait out the rest of week 41, the doctor did a quick ultrasound....and suddenly, everything changed. The placenta was "done" (her words), and my fluid was now low. This bought me a quick ticket to labor and delivery for immediate ripening/inducement.
Now, I wanted a natural labor. But if we're being honest here, I will admit that by this point, I was praying that something/ANYTHING (not serious of course) would happen so that we could go to the hospital and have this baby.
Go ahead and judge. 41 weeks 3 days is ETERNITY :)
Anyway. We went over to the Women's Center and checked in. Aaron went home and got my bag, brought me a delicious Panera ham sandwich that I couldn't WAIT to eat for dinner, and we settled in. The plan was that I would be given two pills that evening to ripen everything, and then I would sleep. In the morning, they would administer Pitocin and then labor would start. Nice plan. Here's what really happened.
First dose, nothing. We hung out for the evening, we watched some tv, we listened to the heartbeat on the monitor....11:30pm brought the second dose. Aaron went to sleep soon after, but the anticipation (and the muffled sounds of the poor woman in the next room) kept me awake for quite awhile. I was ready to give it up and sleep when I started feeling minor contractions....and then my water broke at 2:30am. Suddenly, instead of them starting my labor, I was IN labor. No sleeping for me :) I let Aaron sleep until about 6 am, when things had gotten strong enough that we were really under way. At 6:30am they did a check. 3 CM! That was exciting. Sunny-side up....not so much. But hey, we were finally getting somewhere!
Small snag: all the coping things we planned to do (walking, shower, etc.) were not allowed because of the inducement, and because of the low fluid. The doctor was very concerned about how the baby would tolerate labor, and I was not allowed off the main fetal monitor. EVER. They did agree to let us use the birthing ball, but only after I promised to sit by the monitor on the ball. Aaron sat behind me and applied counter-pressure for a few hours, which was helpful, but it is disconcerting for the whole plan to change so quickly.
Seriously, I remember being in childbirth class, hearing about back labor and thinking, "how badly can your back hurt??"
OH. MY. GOODNESS.
Enough said :)
After being in labor for about 10 hours, the nurse came to check me again. Now, things had been seriously intensifying for a couple of hours, and I was having triplicate contractions as well as feeling physically ill, so I thought we HAD to have made progress....
Still 3 CM.
At that point, I admitted that I couldn't continue without help, and I accepted the offer of an epidural. The first one didn't work correctly, but the second one worked like a charm and the directions were for me to sleep for 4 hours, and then we would proceed from there.
That was the plan.
Here's what really happened:
I slept for an hour and 45 minutes. Waking up, I realized Aaron wasn't in the room which was like instant AWAKE. (The poor guy just went to get some food :) The nurse came in about that time and told me Aaron was in the hall, and asked me how I was feeling. I said, "fine, but I think I need to go to the bathroom." She said she would do a quick check first, but the baby's hair was visible, and instead she made a quick call to the doctor.
It was go time.
I pushed for about 10-15 minutes...and the plan changed again. That little heartbeat on the monitor slowed down. Really, really slow. I looked at Aaron, and I knew by his face that he had heard it too. The doctor immediately told me to STOP pushing....and the little beat went back up. Phew. I was trying not to panic, but it was an awful few moments.
I was told to push again....and immediately the heartbeat fell. We're talking in the low 80's...not where a fetal heartrate should be. (We found out later that the cord was around her neck, and had literally been choking her as I pushed).
The doctor told me to stop pushing, and said "Ok, she's not happy. We're done".
I'm sitting there thinking.....um....what does THAT mean, exactly?? Are we going to have a c-section?
She grabbed the suction, told me to push as long as I could and as hard as I could....contractions totally aside.
I complied, and I felt the baby come into the world in less than 2 minutes. It was fast.
She was screaming bloody murder, she was 7 lbs. 15 oz, and besides being a little cold, she was totally perfect. They laid her on my belly, and for a minute I don't remember anything else except the three of us....I remember watching her face and thinking, "so THAT'S what you look like!" I'd spent so much time dreaming of her. It was amazing to realize that she wasn't a figment of my dreams, she was her own individual. A little bit me, A little bit Aaron....and totally HER. And the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen....and already doing the pouty lip :)
The doctor brought me back to reality when I heard her say, "I can't do this here. I need to take her to an OR".
Um...I'm sorry....WHAT???
Now, at this point, let me say that I really DID want to have a natural childbirth. We had talked, practiced, etc., and when I hit the point where I got an epidural, I wasn't really happy about it. It felt bad to me. Looking back, however, two things: 1. the nurse was probably a little off in her 3 cm estimation (thank you, Tammy! I'm thankful if you were wrong! :) and 2. In this case, an epidural was God's gift to me. I ended up in an OR with my legs strung up in a VERY awkward position, with no glasses, my doctor, and about 5 other random people I couldn't really see standing around all whispering together. And you know what? I got to spend the time having a very calm conversation with the anesthesiologist about his weekend plans. I know that if circumstances had not panned out just the right way, I could have been in that room in a very significant amount of pain. Instead, I got a healthy baby, and a strange but not painful trip to the OR. I'll take that, and thank you Lord.
A little more than an hour later I wheeled into recovery. My amazing husband was waiting for me and shortly after, they brought in our girl.
Maybe it's just me, but everything from that moment on seemed totally surreal. She was HERE. She was OURS. That just blows your mind. It totally blew mine. We were so tired, and I felt overwhelmed caring for a new baby, but I couldn't bear the thought of her not being in our room. They would take her away for a bath and to weigh her, etc., and I found I couldn't even sleep until she was back. She was already shaking the foundations of our world.....in the best way EVER.
And just like that, I was a mama.
Ok, that's an oversimplification (cut me a break, it was hard!), but she came, and everything changed.
We've never looked back. She's going to be three on Sunday and we're about to do this again.
We can't wait until he changes everything.
It really is the best thing ever.
DISCLAIMER: This post is for my own memory and for my children, and is exceedingly long, probably boring, and maybe a little detailed (within reason). Therefore, I'd be happy to have you read or skip, but proceed at your own risk (especially all two of my male readers :)
Having a due date can be very deceitful. I knew this going into pregnancy, both from common sense and from the random women in the grocery store who like to remind first time moms that they have NO idea what they are doing, or when the baby will come :)
Even so, when I hit that 37 week mark, I secretly began thinking, "maybe soon!" She could be a little early, right? The thing is, you just never know...and the anticipation is killer :) At 37 weeks, my mom graciously gave me a pedicure (because seriously, who wants to be in labor without pretty toenails??) and I thought, "this'll probably be the nail polish I wear to the hospital!". It wasn't much, but the thought was exciting. Then 38 weeks ticked by, and the anticipation grew....closer and closer! 39 weeks ticked by....mom had to do my toes again, but that was great because THIS time, it would definitely be the last time. 40 weeks and the due date came and went. Now we were in hyper-anticipation mode. We could go anytime! Have I mentioned that every check the doctor gave me showed that I was "nothing"? No dilation, no effacement. Nothing. Some women just dilate all at once, they told me. No worries. 41 weeks. Toenails painted AGAIN. Ugh. I discovered stretch marks on my belly for the first time, along with a number of other pregnancy discomforts that suddenly cropped up. NO WAY. It was time for this little girl to come OUT :) Aaron jokingly refers the the time period following the due date as "dark days". I can't say I blame him. The poor guy would come home from work and find a large, crazy lady with cankles at home who would invariably be either crying, sleeping, or scrubbing the kitchen floor on her hands and knees--AGAIN--in an attempt to bring on labor. Do I need to mention that sometimes this unstable creature would be doing more than one of those things at one time? And don't even get me started on the time that (after seeing a sweet neighbor lady and her baby) occurred to me that the baby could come out looking different than us (you know, like Asian or African American...you know, ancestry or something....cuz that makes good sense) and that Aaron would never believe she was his baby.....don't laugh, for a week or so there this genuinely concerned me. Like he says, dark days :)
You can all send my husband sympathy messages later.
But I digress.....
41 weeks and 3 days brought us back to the doctor again, where she attempted to check me, and promptly informed me that NOTHING was happening. Again. To which my response was to try not to burst out crying in her office (I was successful), and Aaron's response was to coin the phrase "cervix of steel", which he still uses. It's funnier now than it was at the time :)
As I thought about driving home to wait out the rest of week 41, the doctor did a quick ultrasound....and suddenly, everything changed. The placenta was "done" (her words), and my fluid was now low. This bought me a quick ticket to labor and delivery for immediate ripening/inducement.
Now, I wanted a natural labor. But if we're being honest here, I will admit that by this point, I was praying that something/ANYTHING (not serious of course) would happen so that we could go to the hospital and have this baby.
Go ahead and judge. 41 weeks 3 days is ETERNITY :)
Anyway. We went over to the Women's Center and checked in. Aaron went home and got my bag, brought me a delicious Panera ham sandwich that I couldn't WAIT to eat for dinner, and we settled in. The plan was that I would be given two pills that evening to ripen everything, and then I would sleep. In the morning, they would administer Pitocin and then labor would start. Nice plan. Here's what really happened.
First dose, nothing. We hung out for the evening, we watched some tv, we listened to the heartbeat on the monitor....11:30pm brought the second dose. Aaron went to sleep soon after, but the anticipation (and the muffled sounds of the poor woman in the next room) kept me awake for quite awhile. I was ready to give it up and sleep when I started feeling minor contractions....and then my water broke at 2:30am. Suddenly, instead of them starting my labor, I was IN labor. No sleeping for me :) I let Aaron sleep until about 6 am, when things had gotten strong enough that we were really under way. At 6:30am they did a check. 3 CM! That was exciting. Sunny-side up....not so much. But hey, we were finally getting somewhere!
Small snag: all the coping things we planned to do (walking, shower, etc.) were not allowed because of the inducement, and because of the low fluid. The doctor was very concerned about how the baby would tolerate labor, and I was not allowed off the main fetal monitor. EVER. They did agree to let us use the birthing ball, but only after I promised to sit by the monitor on the ball. Aaron sat behind me and applied counter-pressure for a few hours, which was helpful, but it is disconcerting for the whole plan to change so quickly.
Seriously, I remember being in childbirth class, hearing about back labor and thinking, "how badly can your back hurt??"
OH. MY. GOODNESS.
Enough said :)
After being in labor for about 10 hours, the nurse came to check me again. Now, things had been seriously intensifying for a couple of hours, and I was having triplicate contractions as well as feeling physically ill, so I thought we HAD to have made progress....
Still 3 CM.
At that point, I admitted that I couldn't continue without help, and I accepted the offer of an epidural. The first one didn't work correctly, but the second one worked like a charm and the directions were for me to sleep for 4 hours, and then we would proceed from there.
That was the plan.
Here's what really happened:
I slept for an hour and 45 minutes. Waking up, I realized Aaron wasn't in the room which was like instant AWAKE. (The poor guy just went to get some food :) The nurse came in about that time and told me Aaron was in the hall, and asked me how I was feeling. I said, "fine, but I think I need to go to the bathroom." She said she would do a quick check first, but the baby's hair was visible, and instead she made a quick call to the doctor.
It was go time.
I pushed for about 10-15 minutes...and the plan changed again. That little heartbeat on the monitor slowed down. Really, really slow. I looked at Aaron, and I knew by his face that he had heard it too. The doctor immediately told me to STOP pushing....and the little beat went back up. Phew. I was trying not to panic, but it was an awful few moments.
I was told to push again....and immediately the heartbeat fell. We're talking in the low 80's...not where a fetal heartrate should be. (We found out later that the cord was around her neck, and had literally been choking her as I pushed).
The doctor told me to stop pushing, and said "Ok, she's not happy. We're done".
I'm sitting there thinking.....um....what does THAT mean, exactly?? Are we going to have a c-section?
She grabbed the suction, told me to push as long as I could and as hard as I could....contractions totally aside.
I complied, and I felt the baby come into the world in less than 2 minutes. It was fast.
She was screaming bloody murder, she was 7 lbs. 15 oz, and besides being a little cold, she was totally perfect. They laid her on my belly, and for a minute I don't remember anything else except the three of us....I remember watching her face and thinking, "so THAT'S what you look like!" I'd spent so much time dreaming of her. It was amazing to realize that she wasn't a figment of my dreams, she was her own individual. A little bit me, A little bit Aaron....and totally HER. And the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen....and already doing the pouty lip :)
The doctor brought me back to reality when I heard her say, "I can't do this here. I need to take her to an OR".
Um...I'm sorry....WHAT???
Now, at this point, let me say that I really DID want to have a natural childbirth. We had talked, practiced, etc., and when I hit the point where I got an epidural, I wasn't really happy about it. It felt bad to me. Looking back, however, two things: 1. the nurse was probably a little off in her 3 cm estimation (thank you, Tammy! I'm thankful if you were wrong! :) and 2. In this case, an epidural was God's gift to me. I ended up in an OR with my legs strung up in a VERY awkward position, with no glasses, my doctor, and about 5 other random people I couldn't really see standing around all whispering together. And you know what? I got to spend the time having a very calm conversation with the anesthesiologist about his weekend plans. I know that if circumstances had not panned out just the right way, I could have been in that room in a very significant amount of pain. Instead, I got a healthy baby, and a strange but not painful trip to the OR. I'll take that, and thank you Lord.
A little more than an hour later I wheeled into recovery. My amazing husband was waiting for me and shortly after, they brought in our girl.
Maybe it's just me, but everything from that moment on seemed totally surreal. She was HERE. She was OURS. That just blows your mind. It totally blew mine. We were so tired, and I felt overwhelmed caring for a new baby, but I couldn't bear the thought of her not being in our room. They would take her away for a bath and to weigh her, etc., and I found I couldn't even sleep until she was back. She was already shaking the foundations of our world.....in the best way EVER.
And just like that, I was a mama.
Ok, that's an oversimplification (cut me a break, it was hard!), but she came, and everything changed.
We've never looked back. She's going to be three on Sunday and we're about to do this again.
We can't wait until he changes everything.
It really is the best thing ever.
Comments
~ Becca
Thanks for sharing!
Melanie