Lydia's Birth Story

Lydia--our family's little caboose--is the squeakiest, chunkiest little piece of heaven. The newborn days are slipping away quickly. Far too quickly. (And at the same time, not quickly enough. Newborns are exhausting!)

Each of my birthing experiences have been so different.

Nicole's was traumatic, although at the time I refused to label it that way.

Austin's was peaceful and straightforward.

Autumn's was quite fast, and intense from start to finish.

Lydia's birth started out peaceful... and then turned into an action-packed sequence straight out of a movie. It was quite the ride!

Let's dive in, shall we?

Lydia's Birth Story

I felt my due date was a few days too early, so when June 19th came and went without any baby arrival, I wasn't too surprised. I told anyone who asked that I personally thought my due date was the 23rd or 24th.

I had a midwife appointment on the 22nd, where I had Tina (who also delivered Autumn) do a quick membrane sweep. I was already 3 cm (nearly 4 cm) dilated, so I felt hopeful that labor would start soon.

Sure enough, "early labor" started on the afternoon of the 23rd. I noticed that I was having more contractions than usual all afternoon, so I started timing them as I prepared dinner. They were still coming at random intervals. Some contractions were 9 minutes apart, some were 4 minutes apart. They didn't hurt and didn't get more regular, but they did persist the remainder of the afternoon and evening, and they wouldn't go away regardless of what I did. At the time, I was kind of in denial that I was actually in labor because the contractions weren't coming at regular intervals and they didn't hurt, but I WAS in the early phase of labor, friends. Oh yes I was.

Thankfully, I at least had the common sense to put my sister-in-law Elizabeth on alert, since she was the one who would be watching our kids and lives 20 minutes away. I told her that I wasn't in active labor yet, but that could change any time, so be alert and we would call if anything changed during the night.

I waited as long as I could to see if things would change, then finally told myself that it would be a good idea to get some sleep. I went to bed at around 12:30 and quickly drifted off.

I woke up at 3 AM and found myself in the middle of a contraction. It felt a bit more "productive" than the contractions I had been having before going to bed. After feeling a couple more contractions, I finally grabbed my phone at 3:30 and started timing them. By 4 AM I was confident that I was finally in active labor and rolled out of bed. The contractions were more regular (although still not as regular as I expected) and seemed to have a bit of a "kick" to them.

Expecting that I still had a few hours of at-home labor ahead of me, and not wanting to wake anyone up until I needed to, I headed downstairs and settled down on my exercise ball. Now that I was upright instead of lying down, the contractions started coming every 5 minutes. It was so peaceful, just bouncing on that exercise ball in the dark and listening to a gentle summer rain shower outside, which was soon replaced by the twittering of birds waking up for the day. I just bounced and breathed and imagined the nice, straightforward, beautiful birthing experience that lay ahead of me, and how I would get to meet Lydia soon.

But then, far sooner than I expected, things started getting a little more intense.

I had only been out of bed laboring for 45 minutes, when I had a contraction that was only 2 minutes apart from the previous one. And it hurt. My brain finally admitted that I shouldn't wait any longer. It was 4:45 as I scurried back upstairs, poked Doug awake, and announced I was in labor. He popped right out of bed and called his sister. I figured I had time for a quick shower, so I began waddling around the room to gather what I needed. Doug headed downstairs so he could shower too. I tried to hurry, but my progress was halted every time I had a contraction, since I had to stop what I was doing and breathe through it. As I was in the shower, things picked up even more! I kept my phone within reach so I could continue timing contractions, and was alarmed to see that my contractions were all about 2 minutes apart on average now. (2 minutes from the start of one contraction to the start of the next.) I had to brace my arms against the shower wall and shift my weight back and forth between my feet while deep breathing to manage the pain. I was progressing much faster than I had expected to. I had spent nearly 6 hours in active labor at home when I was pregnant with Austin before needing to head to the hospital, and then spent 2 more hours in labor at the hospital. I had been expecting a similar time frame this time around! By the time I managed to get out of the shower, I had only been in (conscious) active labor for 2 1/2 hours, but I knew we needed to head to the hospital ASAP.

I got out of the shower and tried to hurry as best I could with my large belly and increasingly painful contractions. I still had some toiletries to gather and pack into my hospital bag! Doug, meanwhile, had showered and eaten a quick breakfast, and Elizabeth had arrived. Doug came up to the room to find me sitting on the edge of the bed with my hands gripping the handles of the closet door, swaying back and forth with the door to support me while doing some serious deep breathing. He nervously asked if we should leave now, and I said we would once I finished packing. Easier said than done, though, since I only had 1 minute between contractions to waddle around grabbing things before I found myself back on the bed to manage the next contraction. I probably should have had Doug help me pack, and had him call the hospital to alert them, buuuuuut I didn't. Oops. I was just in denial that I was progressing this fast.

I finally made it down to the kitchen with a packed bag, and after two more contractions in the kitchen, we headed out to the car. It was 6 AM at this point. The drive to the little community hospital takes 10 minutes if you hit all green lights, and we just so happened to HAVE OUR TURN SKIPPED as we were sitting at a red light waiting to turn left onto State Street. We had to sit through another round of traffic before we got our green turn arrow. While sitting at that red light, I had a contraction that alarmed me. I've given birth several times now, and I know what it feels like to enter the "transition phase" of labor... and THAT felt like a transition phase contraction.

Now sensing that time was of the essence (and with me now having to make a loud, low HHHMMMMMM sound to get through the contractions) we made it to the hospital. I waddled across the parking lot in the early summer morning light, with the smell of fresh rain in my nose. I had to hunch over halfway to the doors to breath through a contraction, and finally made it inside. I strode up to the check-in window and announced to the startled nurses that I was in labor, AND was already transitioning. They were smack-dab in the middle of a shift change, and seemed to respond far too slowly for my liking... but when they saw the next contraction hit me, and witnessed my swaying (and my HHHHMMMMMMM sound) they immediately sprang into action.

One nurse took me straight back to the check-in room while Doug stayed at the desk to get my ID and insurance cards scanned, and another nurse called my midwife. Yep, I hadn't even notified her. My nurse put a hospital gown on the bed for me and left the room to let me change. Do you know how hard it is to change clothes during the transition phase of labor?!? Very hard. Not only were the contractions practically coming one right after another at this point, but I was starting to feel pressure. I was literally dancing from foot to foot as I switched into the hospital gown, and I couldn't even manage to get it fastened. Somewhere in my mind, I registered how ridiculous I must look in this gown that was hanging halfway off of me, dancing from foot to foot around this little hospital room while making loud HHHMMMMMMM noises, with my face covered in sweat. Lovely.

The nurses and Doug came into the room in time to witness the end of my labor dance. The nurse had me stand on a scale real quick. A contraction hit me on the scale, so I turned right around, climbed up onto the hospital bed on all 4's, and now my HHHMMMMMMs were punctuated by me repeating, "I want to push!" The poor nurses were very alarmed now. "Not yet!" they told me. "We need to see if you're dilated enough! Your midwife is on the way! Not yet, not yet!"

I managed to lower myself onto my back so they could check my cervix. 8 cm dilated. "You can't push just yet, hon. If you push before you're completely dilated, it'll make your cervix swell." I was well aware of the dangers of pushing too early, but that knowledge didn't make me want to push any less. I resisted, though. Ugh, it was hard. I somehow had the presence of mind to take my glasses off and instruct Doug to retrieve the case from my bag and stow them safely away.

The poor nurses were still trying to follow protocol. One nurse approached me and said they needed to start an IV. I told her to hang on, then HHHHMMMM'd my way through another contraction. As the contraction died away, I said, "Okay, let's hurry with that IV..." and the nurse told me they weren't going to bother with the IV after all. They'd just keep fingers crossed that I wouldn't end up needing anything intravenously.

I'm glad I didn't have to get the IV! That was nice!

The next couple minutes were spent breathing through insanely intense contractions as my body finished dilating. Since I was semi-reclined on my back, I had Doug push against my lower legs just under my knees to give counter pressure that I could lean into. At 6:28, as a contraction hit and Doug began to push against my legs, my water broke. And when I say my water broke, I mean it exploded. I opened my eyes just in time to witness a gush of fluid shooting across the room like a fire hydrant, soaking Doug's pants in the process. The poor guy tried to jump out of the way, but there was no escaping that splash zone. If I hadn't been about to push a baby through my birth canal, I probably would have been laughing so hard.

Only a contraction or two after my water breaking, I was fully dilated. The nurses told me to follow my instincts, while also checking with each other about my midwife's status. After 10 minutes of pushing (and I was trying not to push too hard, to allow more time for Tina to make it), we got the report that she was just a block away. "Tell her to HURRY!" called the nurse who was standing in for Tina.

What felt like moments later, Tina arrived, dressed in her scrubs and ready to go. It was 6:45. A couple contractions later, I started to feel that unmistakable pressure and burning as the contraction ended. The baby was going to crown. As I relaxed between contractions, Doug said to me, "I can see her head!" to which I calmly responded, "I can feel her head..." which made everyone chuckle. Then, as the next contraction started, I said, "Let's get that head out!" and, after a couple powerful pushes and some insane pressure and burning, her head was out. Another tiny push for the shoulder... and then Lydia made her official entrance to the world at 6:52. Yep, just 7 minutes after my midwife arrived. We really cut it close! I think the only reason Tina made it in time was because Lydia was a BIG baby, and I couldn't just shove her out real quick like I did with Autumn (who was only 7 lbs 7 oz).

In fact, Lydia was my largest baby at 9 lbs 3 oz. At her 5 day check-up, her head circumference measured over the 98th percentile. Yikes, huge baby. That, combined with the fact that she was born facing to the right instead of facing my spine, probably contributed to how intense this labor felt, and how quickly it progressed once I got out of bed (gravity + heavy baby = effective dilation process). She cried furiously as I held her for the first time, then after the cord was clamped and cut, the nurses went to weigh her and take vitals while Tina delivered the placenta. Then I had to get a 2nd degree tear stitched up, but I kept passing clots, so Tina had to go up and check to see if anything was left in my uterus. There was a strand of membrane that she needed to get out, which hurt like crazy, but the bleeding finally died down once the membrane was out. Ouch ouch ouch.

Once I was stitched up, my nurse helped me into a wheelchair and I was taken to room 116, which is the room I WOULD have delivered in if I had arrived at the hospital sooner and they'd had time to check me in properly. It made me a little sad, because that's the room that I delivered Austin and Autumn in. It would have been nice to deliver Lydia in there as well, but that's what I get for not taking my labor progress as seriously as I should have. At least I got to spend my recovery time in there, with the same beautiful view of Mount Timpanogos that I had grown familiar with from my previous births.

Hot, fresh pancakes and bacon were waiting for me by my hospital bed, and Lydia was furious about having her nursing session interrupted for the room switch, so I fed her while eating my pancakes... and thus, the last chapter of my maternity years came to a close. So bittersweet. So very, very bittersweet.

I won't miss most of the aspects of pregnancy and childbirth, but... there's also something incredible about it.

Glad I have the stories to look back on, at least.

You can read Nicole's birth story here

Austin's here

and Autumn's here

A few more pictures:

Crazy, how different she's looking after only a couple weeks!

Autumn's Birth Story

I never officially introduced our newest family member here on the blog!

Meet Autumn Kristine!

^^^^The first two pictures are from when she was 2 days old, and the third picture was just taken this morning. They change so quickly in the first few weeks!

Our little Tummers is the sweetest, squeakiest, most wonderful addition to our family. I thought that her birth would be pretty similar to Austin's, but it was a completely different experience than his or Nicole's! It just goes to show that every pregnancy/labor is really, truly different.

Pre-labor was a LONG phase with Autumn. We're talking a good 2 weeks of having several contractions an hour during the day. Less than a week before my due date, I got a stomach bug. Chills, tummy pains, headache, perhaps even a slight fever. It lasted a good 24 hours. I went to my midwife the next day bawling because I was SO tired and done. She asked me if I wanted to induce, to which I said "No... not yet, at least." My mom and sister arrived from California that evening in anticipation of the baby coming any time now, and after a good rest that night, I was much better by the next day.

My due date (February 2nd) came and went without event. Then the next evening I got sick. Again. This time it was only 12 hours, but... well, let's call it a "full body cleanse" and it started just after midnight, so I got NO sleep that night. I was SO glad to have my mom there to care for the kids that morning. By afternoon I was feeling fine, but then contractions started coming less than 10 minutes apart. It lasted for hours. We tentatively got things ready for the hospital, although it didn't feel like true labor because the intervals between contractions were still a little random, and they didn't hurt. I went to bed early because I was so exhausted from the night before, and the contractions pretty much went away once I lay down.

Darn.

The next day - Tuesday the 5th - I went in to have my midwife strip my membranes. I was dilated to a 3 at this point, and I hoped that the strip would kick things into gear that very day. I was also VERY done at this point because of being sick again, so I went ahead and set up an induction for the next day, for multiple reasons. I never thought I'd be one of those women who set up a non-medically-necessary induction. Yep, we all eat our words sometimes.

I went home and--once again--contractions started up for the whole afternoon, always coming under 10 minutes apart. Some even had a bit of "bite" to them. By evening they decreased in frequency, and I got a call from the hospital saying to be there the next morning at 6:15 AM for my induction. We went to bed knowing that even if I didn't go into labor that night, it would be over the next morning at the very least. We didn't sleep well that night, out of anticipation and nerves.

That night, Utah County and the surrounding areas had one of the worst snow storms we've seen in years. Oooof course. Thankfully, Orem was not hit as badly as other areas, and driving was still feasible. Leaving my sister in charge of the kids (who were still asleep at the time anyways), Doug and I piled into the car with my mom and set out in the cold, snowy darkness of that February morning. We left 10 minutes earlier than we normally would have so that we'd have extra time to drive very sloooowly to the hospital. Several blocks away from the street that led to the hospital, Doug was approaching an intersection at 5 MPH. He started breaking, and the car started sliding! We slid sideways right into the curb, which caused me to hit my head semi-hard on the car frame. The impact also bent up the wheel of the car, but the car was fortunately still able to function. We made it to the hospital with a couple minutes to spare.

We checked in, and I was taken to my labor/delivery/recovery suite. By a stroke of luck, it was the same room I delivered Austin in! I settled down on the bed in my hospital gown while my nurse asked me the loooong list of check-in questions and got my IV started. She also checked my cervix, and I was heartened to hear that I had progressed to 4 cm in the past day since my membrane strip. 4 cm is how dilated you have to be for a typical hospital to admit you when you're in active labor, so that helped me feel better about coming in for the induction. I probably would have gone into labor naturally in the next day or so on my own, just based on the dilation progress I'd made.

By this point, it had already been over an hour since I arrived at the hospital! I wanted to start with having my water broken, rather than using any meds like Pitocin. In retrospect, that was a good choice on my part. My midwife was delivering down in Provo at this point, and needed to get from there to me in the snowy weather. She didn't manage to get there until 10 AM... nearly 3 hours after I checked in. Let me tell you right now... If we had started with Pitocin, I probably would have had the baby before she could get there. I'm glad I waited for her instead of starting right away!

She broke my water and let me settle in and wait to see if contractions would pick up. They did slightly, although I felt like they were still so far apart, and not really very painful. After an hour, I was feeling rather bored. I wanted things to get going, so after chatting with my midwife about it, I had my nurse give me the tiiiiniest bit of Pitocin.

That was all I needed, folks. And I kid you not, it was the smallest amount of Pitocin.

Once the Pitocin started, I noticed an immediate change. I was trying to fill out the birth certificate paperwork, and I kept having to stop writing so that I could close my eyes and breathe through the contractions. After about 10 minutes of that nonsense, I called my nurse back in to ask for an epidural. I had been planning all through this pregnancy on a natural labor like with Austin, but I was still so fresh from being sick and just wanted a break from the pain for once. She sent for the anesthesiologist, while my midwife checked my dilation... 5 cm. I waited about 10 more minutes for the anesthesiologist to come, during which my midwife pushed just under my knees during contractions to give counter-pressure. It was surprising how much that helped me manage the pain. It was a cool trick!

The anesthesiologist arrived sometime between 11:20 and 11:25. He had me sit on the edge of the bed to prepare. At this point, my contractions were coming only, like, 2 minutes apart. My midwife probably should have checked my dilation before we started the epidural... I was probably at a 6 or 7 at this point, and I guarantee she would have told me it was too late for the epidural. BUT she didn't check me, so we didn't know. I had to hold still for the epidural, so I breathed through several intense contractions while holding perfectly still and leaning on Doug's shoulder while squeezing the crap out of his hand.

Once the epidural was finished, I lay back on the bed. I knew it would take some time to kick in, but told myself I'd get relief soon.

Yeah, no.

Within 10 minutes of finishing the epidural process, I started complaining that my bladder felt really full. My nurse started preparing me for a catheter. My legs were starting to feel a little tingly from the epidural, but I could still feel everything. Just as my nurse was about to put the catheter in, I started saying that I needed to pee NOW because my bladder felt like it would burst. Then the sensation increased, and my back arched, and I said something I don't remember, and my midwife said, "Baby's here!" to which I replied, "What?! But I can still feel everything!" in a squeaky voice.

My midwife put a bedpan under me so I could relive my bladder, since we hadn't managed to put a catheter in, but I couldn't pee. I suspect that I never really needed to pee... I was feeling pressure from the baby, rather than pressure from my bladder. She removed the bedpan and helped the nurses get everything into place as another contraction hit me. I squeakily asked, "Can I push????" to which my midwife replied, "Well, you can if you need to, but we're not quite ready yet..." (I caught them all by surprise with how fast I progressed!) so I went ahead and semi-pushed through 2 contractions.

Then it was showtime! I pushed as hard as I could through the first contraction. I had what felt like only brief moments to rest before the next contraction hit, and I had only just barely started pushing when I heard my mom exclaim, "Oh, there she is! There she is!" and there was some burning and my midwife said, "Head's out! Okay, stop pushing..."

I thought to myself, "Head's out already?! Really?" and then a few moments later out came the rest of the baby! It felt like it was over so fast! I could see her little feet from over my belly, and then the midwife brought the rest of her into view. Oh, that little baby was so mad! They suctioned her and put her up on my belly for a bit until we got the cord clamped and cut. The nurses weighed and measured her while my midwife delivered the placenta, and then they brought her over to do skin-on-skin while I got stitched up because I tore. Second degree, just like my previous two deliveries. My midwife had to give me a local because the epidural STILL hadn't kicked in, so I could still feel everything.

My nurse shut the epidural off, and by the time I was done being stitched up, I was unable to lift my left leg. That's as numb as I got, folks. What a waste of meds! I should have expected that there wouldn't be time for the epidural to kick in, though. I went pretty fast with Austin too, once I got to 6 cm or so. If/when baby #4 comes along, I REALLY need to not even bother with the epidural. They just don't ever work out for me, and now I've done a (for all intents and purposes) meds-free labor twice and survived just fine.

Fresh, new baby!!!!!

Autumn was my smallest baby, weighing in at 7 lbs. 7 oz. and 20 inches long. Perhaps that's why it only took 2 rounds of pushing to get her out! It took a good hour for Autumn to calm down enough to eat, and then after half an hour of nursing for the first time, she finally fell asleep. That girl was so mad about being evicted! Then she slept for nearly 6 hours, and it took me a whole hour to prod and poke and nudge her awake enough to finally eat again. After that, she nursed quite readily.

We checked out of the hospital the next afternoon, just an hour or so after Autumn hit the "24 hours old" mark. I was rather hormonal/emotional for a few days, but by the time Doug's paternity leave was used up (when Autumn was 8 days old) I was in a pretty good place. We even went to Target that day! First errand with 3 kids in tow, woot woot!

We love our little Autumn!

Read Nicole's birth story here.
Read Austin's birth story here.

Austin's Birth Story

Hooray for birth stories! Our bodies can do crazy, amazing things, ladies. My second labor experience was vastly different than my first. It was like night and day, both figuratively and literally! (with Nicole I labored all night... with Austin it was all morning haha...) If you want, read Nicole's birth story here.

I was tricked into thinking I was in labor on Monday the 17th... 6 days before my due date. I'd been feeling more Braxton Hicks than normal that day, so I decided to time them that evening just for fun. I discovered that they were coming on average about 10 minutes apart and lasting up to a minute each time, so I got very pumped and excited because that's how far apart my contractions were at the beginning of my labor with Nicole. After timing them aaaaaall evening, I had to grudgingly admit around midnight that this was not the real deal. Just my body practicing.

On Wednesday morning at my midwife appointment, I had my cervix checked and was told I was dilated to almost 3 cm and was 70% effaced. Those were my stats the day I went into labor with Nicole, so I was once again convinced I would go into labor that day, especially when I started spotting about an hour after my appointment.......... but the spotting stopped, I went to my Barre class as usual, my contractions that evening were slightly closer together for a while, but then went back to being as sporadic as they were on Monday (but still averaging 10 minutes apart).

Lesson to be learned: no two labors are alike. AT ALL. So don't compare them. ;)

I forbade myself from timing any more contractions until I could noticeably tell they were painful. I drifted through the next several days working on projects. "Murphey's Law of Labor" states that if you start a big project that HAS to be finished, you'll go into labor before you can finish it... right? Ha. Didn't work. I got the freezer meals, Nicole's costume, and last-minute cleaning done by Saturday and still nothing! We celebrated our final evening before my due date together with Café Rio and a long walk over to the park to let Nicole slide and climb and play. It was a great send-off to our life as a family of 3, little did we know. I was expecting to go past my due date. Only 5% of babies come on their due date, and I even had a 40 week bumpdate post typed up to share on the blog because I was certain I'd still be pregnant the next day.

I woke shortly after 5:30 AM on Sunday morning to a contraction that felt a little different. A while later, another one. I allowed myself to get out my timer... 8 minutes apart. 8 minutes apart. 7 1/2 minutes apart. I alerted Doug so he could call his sister and tell her to come get Nicole, because I was absolutely sure this was the real deal. Then I got in the shower and washed my hair because I wasn't going to the hospital with 5-day hair, dang it!

Nicole was awake by 7:30 for breakfast, Doug's sister arrived shortly after 8 as I was finishing up straightening my blow-dried hair between contractions (when a contraction hit I would go over to the bed and sit and bounce/breathe until it was done) and she was out the door with Nicole by 8:30.

The next 3 hours were just me, my exercise ball, and a bag of Reese's miniature peanut butter cups. Doug meandered around and cleaned some things and got on his computer... I wanted to get in my own personal "labor zone" for the time being, so he left me alone. I would bounce on the ball, or lean over it while on my knees, or rock on my hands and knees, or even go into a deep 2nd position plié squat and pulse there (thank you, Barre! Calves of steel!) I lay down on my side at one point to try sleeping, but the contractions got twice as far apart when I did that, and that wasn't going to help labor happen faster, so I got up again.

But yeah, 3 hours. The contractions were about 4 minutes apart this whole time, but they weren't strong enough or long enough for me to feel like I should go to the hospital yet. Finally, at 11:30 when the contractions were about a minute long each and I couldn't walk or talk through them, I told Doug, "I guess we can go now..."

We got to the hospital shortly before noon. They checked me and I was only at 4 1/2 cm. I say "only" because I expected to be a bit further along than that after 6 1/2 hours of labor, and was a little bummed. At this point, the contractions were fairly painful, but they were nothing I couldn't handle as long as I did some steady breathing. It took about an hour before my midwife got there, and by then they had officially admitted me, hooked up my IV, asked about my birthing preferences, and got me transferred to my official delivery and recovery room. I was the only patient in the labor ward that day. There was one other girl who had a C-section a couple days before and was still recovering, but that was it. They put me in their best room and gave me all their attention, and I felt pretty special.

By now it was shortly after 1 PM. My midwife came straight from church and arrived in the room in her Sunday best to make sure I got settled. She checked me and told me I had progressed to 6 cm in the past hour. Yay! After some deliberation, I had her break my water in hopes that things would progress faster and I wouldn't be stuck laboring for several more hours.

Side note: You guys. I hope my water never breaks on it's own when I'm out in public or at home because I don't know if I'd make it to the hospital and get checked in on time! And definitely not without making a scene!

My midwife left to get changed into her scrubs, and my nurses put a birthing ball nearby for me to use and told me before exiting the room that they could fill up the Jacuzzi tub any time I wanted. It turns out that I did not want to get off that bed. Things got very intense, very fast. Within 15 minutes I was hitting "transition stage" (which is when you're dilating the last 2 cms and it's the most painful part of labor, in my opinion) and within 10 more minutes my midwife was back and ready to help... but after just a couple contractions, I started shrieking at her that I wanted to push. You guys, the urge to push is real! And it is SO hard to resist. My midwife checked me at the end of that contraction, and sure enough... I was fully dilated! She asked me to breathe through the next contraction instead of pushing so they could get all the delivery stuff into position, and that was the hardest thing ever! I wanted to push so badly. I actually cheated and pushed a tiny bit, and that was relieving.

Then... show time. I had that baby out after about 6 or 7 rounds of pushing, which took less than 20 minutes. Austin James Kelly was born at 1:59 PM, just 2 hours after checking into the hospital and about 45 minutes after my water was broken. Going from 6 cm to 10 cm in half an hour was pretty intense, and even though there was definitely a crazy burning sensation when the baby was crowning and I tore again over my old scar from Nicole, I still prefer that over the "transition stage" contractions. Yowza, those were intense. I'm a silent laborer, but not during transition stage! Haha!

Hooray for an epidural-free labor! That was my goal, and I'm SO glad I stuck to it. I definitely think I'll do that again for future babies; the differences in my ability to push and my recovery afterwards were enormous. Also, this labor was just over 8 hours, compared to 12 the first time. Part of that is thanks to being able to feel what I was doing during the pushing stage!

We let the cord pulse a bit before clamping and cutting it. They put Austin up on my tummy as they wiped him off; his cry sounded so quiet but you could tell he was giving it all he had. He was so little and perfect and squishy! The nurses took him away briefly to get his vitals and measurements while my midwife delivered the placenta, then he was back in my arms and tucked against my skin, no longer crying and very alert. After getting my tear stitched up, I nursed him for the first time (he caught on very quickly) and then he got sleepy, so I took the opportunity to get up and get cleaned off. Up and moving within one hour, what a difference! And I felt great. I didn't even feel tired or hormonal.

Things have gone pretty smoothly since then. We checked out of the hospital the next afternoon, just barely over 24 hours after Austin was born. Hey, I missed Nicole and I felt great, so why stay longer than needed? Austin is a good sleeper and eater and we're already developing a schedule. I had one very hormonal day on Tuesday the 25th, and have been feeling great emotionally since then. My mom came to help for a couple days, so I don't feel like a sleep-deprived zombie and it's awesome. Nicole ADORES her brother. I know that there will be hard days, but my goodness it melts my mama heart to see the sibling love already developing (at least... on Nicole's side of things. Austin often just sleeps through all her prodding and poking, haha!)

I would rate this labor experience as... fantastic. The hospital staff were great, no interventions, no baby trapped in the NICU, a better post-labor recovery (thank you, exercise), and I feel like I'm treading water instead of drowning in it. Austin had to go back to re-do his heel prick test twice, which was annoying, but oh well. I love my little family, I love my squeaky newborn, and I love this chance I have to be a mother. I wish every worthy woman could have the opportunity because it's truly a miraculous experience, even with the hard parts mixed in.

And it's true: there's nothing quite like a newborn. (Or the smell of a newborn, for that matter. Mmmmmmm, newborn smell... I'm in heaven!)

Now for a couple hospital pictures:

^^^Skin-to-skin time. Only a handful of minutes old!

 ^^^First picture as a family of four!

^^^First sponge bath. Can't you tell he loved it? ;)

Also... you guys. He has dimples. Dimples!!!!! The handsome little devil...

Nicole - A Birth Story

 

I personally love a good birth story - even hearing horror stories about labor during my pregnancy didn't really bother me much - and so I'm going to share Nicole's story here. Kudos to you if you read the whole thing :P I considered breaking it up into sections, but I'd rather just get it all out at once. I could be more detailed, but the post is long enough as it is.

Anyways. Let's rewind to a couple weeks ago... does this picture look familiar? :) This was taken the day the ball started rolling.

On Wednesday, December 3rd I had a prenatal appointment around lunchtime. I was 40 1/2 weeks along, 2 cm dilated and 70% effaced, so my doctor thought there was an excellent chance that the baby would arrive in the next few days. We arranged for me to be induced that coming Monday though, just in case.

I arrived back home, had lunch, shared the doctor's news with my mom, and then decided to type out a 40 week "bumpdate" blog post while watching Sense and Sensibility. Every now and then during the movie I felt a light contraction. However, the contractions didn't seem long, regular, or painful to me - so I didn't really pay much attention to them. Doug got home early that day (later he told me that he just had a feeling that he should come home early), I had him take a couple pictures (such as the one above) for the blog post, and published my very last "bumpdate".

By then it was nearly dinner time and I was still feeling contractions every now and then. My mom texted me around 5:30 asking if there were any signs and I told her about the light contractions I was feeling. She encouraged me to start timing them, and so I did... even though I was sure that there would be no pattern to them. I was wrong. The contractions were coming about every 10 minutes and lasting around 35-40 seconds. I was very surprised - I was in the early stages of labor and didn't even realize it!

Over the next 2 hours, the contractions grew closer together, longer, and a little more painful. By 8:00 they were 4-5 minutes apart, lasting nearly a minute each, and I had to sit and use my Lamaze breathing to get through each one. We grabbed our bags and headed to the hospital at that point. They let me right in and got me settled in a bed so they could check me... I was 3 (almost 4) cms dilated and 100% effaced!

Now came the big decision - epidural? Or no epidural? I had really wanted to try a meds-free delivery, but there was a little surgery of sorts that I needed to have during my labor. Without going into detail, I'll tell you that I did not want to feel that surgery. Looking back, I could've probably used a local anesthetic instead of getting a full-blown epidural, but the thought never crossed my mind.

Unfortunately, the nurse left my room while I was dealing with a contraction, so I didn't get to put in my epidural request. It was a very busy night at the hospital - 8 other women had been admitted before me during the first 2 hours of the evening shift alone - and so my nurse didn't return for over an hour. During this time, my contractions became about 1-2 minutes apart and were at their most painful intensity. Looking back, I was managing the pain pretty well with my breathing. Doug sat there next to me and coached me through each contraction, helping me keep my breathing slower and providing his hand for me to squeeze. I didn't like that the nurse was keeping me waiting though. We kept pressing the button on the bed to call the nurse in, but nobody was responding, so Doug finally stuck his head out in the hall to inform them that my contractions were really close together and I still didn't have my epidural.

Turns out the "call the nurse" button on my bed was broken. Go figure.

Before I could have an epidural, I had to get an IV in my hand so that they could pump some fluids into me. It took soooo long for the whole bag of fluid to drain into my body, but I was finally able to get my epidural around 11:30. At this point, Doug's mom had arrived to lend support and a helping hand since my own mommy was still stranded out in California. The anesthesiologist gave me a second chance to change my mind and say no to the epidural, but my mind was made up. I did not want to feel that surgery. So... in went the big needle! It was not as bad as people make it out to be. I think getting the IV was more painful, personally. The epidural took around 10 minutes to kick in, so I still had to breathe through several more contractions.

Having an epidural is such a weird sensation, you guys. My legs got all numb and tingly, but I didn't completely lose feeling. The anesthesiologist did a great job on the epidural and left me with just enough feeling that I could still tell when I was having a contraction because I could feel a pressure in my abdominal area, but it didn't hurt.

Then I had to play the waiting game again. That's when Doug went ahead and snapped a couple pics. I sat for 2 more hours while the nurses and my doctor helped other patients. They came in at some point to rupture my membranes, which hadn't broken on their own yet, and then by 2:00 AM the nurse announced that I was ready to push. I personally think I could have started pushing before then, but oh well.

Show time.

Once I started pushing, my contractions started getting weaker and further apart. The nurse was worried because that doesn't usually happen, I guess, so she gave me a small dose of Pitocin to encourage my body to keep the contractions coming.

My pushing lasted for 3 hours. During this time, the doctor performed the little surgery that I mentioned. He worked on it between pushes, which made me even more glad that I had an epidural; otherwise I would have had no break from pain and discomfort because he was snipping and stitching me during those precious moments when my body got a break from pushing. It was a rather bloody surgery. Even Doug's mom, who is a big advocate of natural birth, admitted afterwards that she was glad I had an epidural for that surgery.

3 hours of pushing, though.

I blame the epidural for that.

I could still feel when to push, so that wasn't the problem - the problem was that I couldn't tell if I was pushing correctly. I had to depend on the doctor, nurse, Doug, and his mom to tell me if I was doing it right or not - but as soon as I did one "correct" push, I forgot what I had done to make it correct. Doug and his mom were on either side of me to help support me, and at about the 1.5 hour mark you could see a little head of hair emerge with each push before sliding back in again. Doug was so excited when he first saw that little head.

I made no progress between the 2 and 3 hour mark. The baby stayed right where she was. The nurses brought in a mirror so that I could see what was going on. They thought it might help me push more effectively.

It didn't.

So the doctor suggested using a vacuum or forceps. After discussing the positives and negatives, as well as considering how little progress I was making and how each push wore me out a little more, I decided a little help was necessary; I chose forceps. Once the forceps were attached, it only took 5 more pushes to get her out. (With the forceps helping, I could all of a sudden feel exactly where I needed to push. Of course. It only took me 3 hours to figure it out.) After the last push, there was the strangest sensation of feeling a large mass of baby slide right out of my uterus... and then at 4:49 AM I heard her first little cry.

That first cry was magic.

I sat there, exhausted, and struggled to see over my belly. The doctor was holding my baby girl in the glaring white lights of the hospital room. The two surgery bulbs were like spotlights announcing the debut of that chunky baby gasping for air, her little body still grey and covered in white goo. I felt this strong surge of emotion and was holding back tears as the doctor, after sucking some fluid from her nose and mouth, placed her up on my belly while the umbilical cord continued to pulse and the nurses brought over warm towels to cover her and clean her off as she cried weakly. Once the doctor was ready to clamp the cord, they scooted her up a little more so that she was against my chest instead of my belly. I got to hold my little girl for a few more seconds while Doug helped cut the cord...

And then they were taking her away from me.

Bringing out oxygen masks.

Talking about breathing problems and the NICU.

My placenta was delivered and as the doctor began stitching up my second degree tear, I watched them bring in a NICU bassinet, place my baby in it, and roll her away with Doug hot on their heels. My mother-in-law had to leave, my doctor left to help the next patient, and after a while my nurse left too.

I was completely alone.

For the first time in 9 months, I was entirely by myself. There was no little human inside me keeping me constant company... and there was no little human in my hospital room. There was no one.

Alone. Empty. Exhausted.

My brain shut down and became as numb as my legs (which were starting to get some feeling back into them now that the epidural had been shut off). I lay and waited for nearly 2 hours before I got news from Doug about our little baby's condition. Respiratory distress. Hooked up to machines to make it easier for her to breathe. An infection of some sort. They would run tests so they could figure it out and get her put on antibiotics. Doug sent me this picture from his phone:

Poor baby.

Doug came back in my room soon after and fell right asleep on the couch/bed. I tried to sleep. I ended up in tears. Everything blurs from there. At some point when the epidural had more or less worn off, my nurse helped me go to the bathroom. I was so swollen that I couldn't pee on my own, so they stuck a catheter in me and I had to keep it there until halfway through the following day. They also had me start pumping to begin building my milk supply. I couldn't feed my baby yet because of her tubes (they were keeping her blood sugar stable though) so I had to resort to other measures to make sure I established my milk supply.

I didn't get moved to a recovery room until 3:30 that afternoon because the hospital was so full. That was about the time that I finally got to go to the NICU and see my baby. They wouldn't let me hold her, but I could reach out and hold her little hand and stroke her head.

Leaving the NICU to go back to my room resulted in tears. But, after a nice nap and a hospital food dinner, I was able to go back and see her again. Mmmm. That hospital food. HA! The food was hit-and-miss but I really liked the mashed potatoes and gravy... but it would be pretty difficult to mess up potatoes and gravy.

These pics kind of capture how tired I was. So tired. I didn't even make an effort to smile or pose for the camera.

It was interesting to hear the nurses give their reports to each other at the shift change every 12 hours. My nurse would tell the next nurse taking over that my delivery was rough (because of the 3 hours of pushing, forceps, surgery, tearing... blah blah blah) but I feel like delivery wasn't that bad. Recovery is worse, in my opinion. Even so... the nurses were surprised I wasn't asking for additional pain killers. They kept reminding me additional medication was available. I really didn't need it though.

Anyways.

Nicole had her tubing changed to something smaller that evening... so on Friday morning I was able to finally hold her! This is the very first picture ever taken of me with my baby.

All of the tubes and wires made me feel like I had to be extra careful with her. Doug got to hold her too, and then we weren't able to hold her again until evening because they had a "hold her once per 12 hour shift" rule or something. I felt like Friday was a good day, though. I got the catheter out, and I finally got to take a shower. Ooooh, that shower was amazing.

Saturday. I was discharged. My baby was not.

It didn't feel right to drive away from the hospital with that empty baby seat sitting in the rear of the car. I managed to hold myself together until we got through the door of our apartment, and then the bawling started. The rest of Saturday was a blur of showering, napping, pumping, and crying. We got to go back to the NICU in the evening to hold her again, and of course the waterworks started up once more the moment we left. They say day 3 of recovery is when the hormones hit the worst, anyways... but still. Leaving my baby alone in the NICU was hard, regardless of my hormone levels.

Day 4  (Sunday) was pretty good though! They lifted the restriction on holding Nicole, so I was able to hold her whenever I wanted, for as long as I wanted. They finally allowed my NICU guests to hold her too. I was able to nurse her for the first time that afternoon, and she caught on straight away. This girl eats like a champion, let me tell ya. Before then, they'd just been taking some of the colostrum I pumped and squeezing it into her mouth, then putting a pacifier in to make her suck and swallow. It was nice to finally have that opportunity to bond with her, even if it was several days delayed.

My mom (who managed to finally fly out on Friday evening) spent the night in the NICU with me on Sunday so that I could be there to nurse Nicole every 3 hours. That was a long, tiring night - they didn't even put us in a room. I was given a recliner chair, my mom had a rocking chair, and we tried to sleep in those chairs next to her bassinet between feedings. SUCH a long night. My mom finally got to hold her first granddaughter though... and Nicole loved to finally be held so much.

Mom stayed with me until she had to catch her returning flight on Monday evening. It was a big help having her there, it's as if my hormones disappeared the whole time I was with my mom because I didn't cry once. Mommies are awesome. Nicole had her first sponge bath that day too... she was fairly well-behaved during it.

Then my mom was gone and I was alone in the NICU. The tears returned that night. Doug still had school and work and needed to do laundry and groceries... and I really needed sleep. The hospital was too far away for me to come back and forth every 3 hours; I would never sleep that way. So I gave the NICU permission to give Nicole bottles of some of the milk I'd pumped and went home to get some uninterrupted sleep. It was only 5 hours (yes, I skipped pumping. Sue me.) but it made such a difference. I was back at the NICU bright and early Tuesday morning to feed my baby again, and Doug joined me by lunch time.

Nicole had her hearing test, heart test, and had to sit in her car seat for 1.5 hours without being taken out - it's some test that all NICU babies have to do, I guess. She was so patient during her tests, and then we got the all-clear to take her home!!!! The doctors had actually been telling me that I would need to spend one more night in the NICU with Nicole, and that they would (finally) put us in a room with meals and she could sleep in the room with us without any nurses popping in or moniters hooked up to her... but that seemed really unnecessary to us, and so Doug did a little pushing and the doctors let us take her home that afternoon instead of the following morning.

 

Thank goodness. I was growing weary of making the 15-20 minute drive to the hospital so often. That's what I get for wanting to exclusively breastfeed though. (Aside from the couple bottles I allowed them to give her, that is.) We were so happy to take her home! And she just looked so cute in her little car seat with her fuzzy little coming-home outfit. SO cute. I'm thankful to the NICU for helping her feel better (she had to be on 5 days of antibiotics) but goodness, I hope none of my future babies need to stay there!

My physical recovery is going great. I already feel like I could go dance again or something. I did end up getting a UTI (probably because of the catheter) despite the large amount of cranberry juice I drank to try preventing it. It's all cleared up now, thankfully. My emotional recovery, thanks to the hormones, seemed to be taking a while, but this past Thursday was a turning point and I've been a lot happier the past several days. Let me tell ya, though... Doug would get home from school/work, I would hand him the baby, then I'd break down bawling for a while. Not to mention I'm a new mom, so of course I'm continually worrying about the tiniest things. But things get better by the day, they really do!

And... I mean... look at that face. Even when she's furious at me for doing tummy time, she's still so cute and SO worth it!