On Friday, February 1st at 11:02 am, our daughter was born.
As an aside, throughout this pregnancy, I had a very intuitive connection to my daughter. I didn't feel like I had this kind of intuition when I was pregnant with my son, so having gut feelings about things that I couldn't let go of throughout this pregnancy was very surreal for me. She told me that she was a girl. She told me her name. I had a gut feeling that she would come a few days before her due date, and that she would be a big girl. I can't tell you how, and I doubted these feelings' legitimacy until I had evidence to prove them, but I felt these things to be true... and then they were.
My final prenatal checkup was Wednesday, January 30th - I was 39 weeks and 2 days. The midwife asked if I would like to be checked and if I would like my membranes stripped. I declined the membrane strip because of what happened last time, but agreed to the cervical check because I was curious. 1 cm dilated and not really effaced. She didn't even tell me a percentage. She just said maybe I was effaced a little, but not really. She remarked that I was the picture of a perfect, healthy pregnant woman, said to set up an appointment for next week, and that she hoped I didn't make it to that appointment.
When I got home around 4pm that afternoon, I noticed some bloody mucus when I wiped. I just assumed it was irritation from the cervical check. I googled it to be sure.
That night I woke up in the wee hours of the morning with mild contractions. They lasted about 30-45 minutes, and then I went back to sleep and in the morning they were gone. This had happened a few nights earlier too, but I didn't pay it much mind.
Thursday I got my big girl panties on and decided that that was the day to get shit done... even though it was pouring outside. I dropped Joey off at school and texted my sister to see if she could pick me up at VW if I took my car in for service. I dropped my car off, sister picked me up, and we went to the hardware store to make a set of house keys for my family so that they could get in to take care of Panda and Rosie while we were in the hospital, and we went back to my parents' house to hang out and wait out the rain. When it stopped raining, my mom and sister wanted to go out and run some errands, so I tagged along. As we were walking around World Market and Michaels, I would have periodic contractions. I probably had 3 or 4 while we were out and about. They just felt like moderately uncomfortable period cramps. I would count to myself when they happened. They were about 20 seconds long, but I wasn't officially timing them... and later I realized that I actually count very slowly. When I got home that night after picking up my car, they'd stopped. I did, however, continue to have bloody mucusy discharge, and I noticed what I think was my mucus plug on one of my trips to the bathroom.
When my husband got home from the gym, I told him "I think this baby is going to be born this weekend". Something insanely stressful had happened at his work so he had to jump on calls and chats basically all night. I had a grad school application I needed to get emailed in right away, and I was relying on his input, so we were up until about 12:30am getting everything that needed to get done all squared away.
I crawled into bed completely exhausted and passed out before 12:35am. A little after 4am, I woke up because I was having mild contractions. I assumed they would go away and I would be able to go back to sleep. I started counting them out to myself anyway. They were 20-25 "seconds" (I'm a slow counter) and about 3 minutes apart. I tracked the minutes just by looking at the clock - one started at 4:35 and the next started at 4:38. Around 5:15, concerned by the timing of the contractions but not the intensity, I got up, walked into the office (where the yoga ball was) and called Labor & Delivery for advice. The nurse I spoke to seemed unconcerned. She asked if my water had broken and if I planned to have an epidural, and when I answered "no", she said to wait as long as possible, until I was having a really hard time getting through the contractions, and to call to let them know when we were on our way.
Timmy heard me on the phone and got up to make sure everything was OK. I told him fine, but I was pretty sure I was in labor and he should go back to bed. I couldn't go back to sleep at this point. The contractions were juuuuuust strong enough that I couldn't sleep through them. I figured I may as well make use of the time since I was up and not in too much pain, so I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and put on my makeup. Timmy knocked on the bathroom door to check on me. I told him I was perfectly fine for now and he could relax, but he realized he hadn't packed anything for the hospital yet and didn't have enough clean clothes, so he got up and started a load of laundry.
Around 545 or so I'd moved the birth ball out into the living room, put on my headphones and started listening to my labor playlist as I rocked side to side on the ball. The contraction timer on my phone had my contractions clocked at 35 seconds long and a minute and a half to two minutes apart. So, after every contraction it would flash at me that these were "actual contractions" and it was time to head to the hospital. They were still manageable, so I kept on moving on my ball, and at about 6:30, I called my parents and asked them to slowly start making their way over. They were getting incrementally stronger, but the timing stayed pretty much the same. Rosie, our German Shepherd, kept coming over and getting in my face, so I snapped at her. That woke up Joey, and he came out to sit next to me on the couch around 645. He just walked up very nonchalantly, said "Good Morning, Mommy" and sat down on the couch. I put on one of his favorite shows to keep him distracted so that I could labor without having to parent too much, since by this time I was having to breathe through my contractions.
My dad showed up around 8am. Tim's laundry wasn't quite ready yet, and I was having to close my eyes to get through the contractions, but it was still tolerable. My dad helped keep Joey distracted while Timmy packed, and my mom showed up a little before 830am, and we left a few minutes after she got there. We figured, worst case they send us home, but Timmy was convinced I was dilated to 4cm and they would admit us. We couldn't fit my yoga ball in my car, but we figured we would ask if they had a ball I could use when we let them know we were on our way, and if they didn't have one, then my dad would bring mine.
Now... based off the expectation that we would head to the hospital when contractions were 5 minutes apart and one minute long, I thought I could have one contraction before we got in the car, one halfway through the minute drive, and one when we arrived at the hospital... but as I mentioned, my contractions were a minute and a half to two minutes apart. So, lucky me got to have 5 or 6 contractions on the 10 minute drive to the hospital. I was doing horse lips on my exhales and Timmy was making fun of me. I called the hospital to tell them we were coming. They did not have a birth ball we could use, so we had to call my dad and ask him to bring mine.
We walked into labor and delivery and they checked us in to triage. I have a very clear memory of having a contraction at the nurses station where we checked in, and having to lean up against a post and close my eyes through a contraction.
The put us in a room and we met our nurse. They had me put on a gown and get up on the bed to be monitored for 20 minutes. During this time, Timmy went downstairs to get the birth ball from my dad.
Then the midwife came in to check me. Lynn, my nurse, reported that my contractions were 40 seconds long and about 2 minutes apart. I was 4cm dilated and fully effaced, and baby was at a -1 station, so we could officially be admitted and I could get off the bed and onto my ball. (praise Jesus)
Timmy had a little "I told you so" moment.
Our nurse asked me my birth plan. I said zero intervention, if possible, and if I had the wherewithal, I'd like to catch the baby myself and could I please wear my own clothes. She said yes to everything - was super supportive about my wanting to catch the baby. Said I'd be surprised what I could do in the moment, when she heard a twinge of doubt in my voice. She asked me if I wanted it put in my chart to not even offer an epidural. I told her that would be great, and when I asked if I could wear my own clothes, she said she'd let me do pretty much what I wanted unless there was a medical emergency. She asked me if she could put in a saline lock and I obliged, but she said she'd be able to do a better job if she didn't have a moving target, so it would be helpful if I got back up onto the bed, just for a few moments.
Tim went down to get our bags. As soon as he got back, I changed into my own dress and slippers. I'd bought some cheap on Amazon the week before. And from around 9:15am to 10am, I was on the yoga ball, rocking my hips from side to side, making occasional trips to the bathroom to keep my bladder empty. By now, my horse lips exhales had turned into mid-tone groans. Timmy talked me through every contraction. Each contraction was about 10 breaths long. I wasn't on any monitors, so he just kept track, told me that was the hardest part when I'd made it through the peak, and told me when I had about 3 breaths left at the end of each one.
He told me between contractions that he could tell when the next one was coming because I would get goosebumps on my arms, so he kept an eye on my shoulders.
We were told that we could be moved into a delivery room as soon as the room was ready for us. Then I had a series of three super intense back to back contractions - no breaks in between them. On the second one, I needed to lift my weight up off of the ball as it peaked and I shifted from one side to the other. On the third, as it peaked, I needed to lift all the way up off the ball so that I wasn't touching the ball at all, just as I did, I felt a huge pop and there was a massive gush as my water broke all over the ball, the floor, and my slippers. It was the color of pea soup. Meconium. I also immediately felt baby drop into position. In that moment, I could feel the space created between my belly and my ribcage.
I told Tim my water had broken, and he stepped (or maybe more like lunged) out into the hall to tell the nurse that my water had broken and there was meconium in the water. He sounded concerned, so she reassured him. Very quickly after that, Lynn hustled to get us into a delivery room. There was a couple on a tour of L&D, and they got kicked out of the room. I waddled over there, covered in amniotic fluid and meconium since I'd declined a wheelchair.
Lynn asked me to get on the bed because it was time to monitor me and baby again, and I never got back onto my ball after that. The midwife came in and checked me again. 9cm. She asked me if I was feeling the urge to push, and said if I was then they could push aside the remaining cm. I said yes, but I didn't really feel "pushy". I just felt like she was burrowing further and further down. The midwife applied some oil and did some perineal stretching.
This is the only part of my story I don't love. I wish that I had been able to push in other positions. I was up on the bed, on my back, with my knees up by my armpits, but I felt like I should have been squatting. I felt like I needed gravity on my side, and I didn't have it. I felt helpless the way I was - even though my pushes were accomplishing something. I felt defeated. The midwife could tell, and as the baby started to crown, she told me I was so close and to reach down and feel my baby's head. I did, and it was right there - squishy and covered in hair. I pushed through four or five more contractions. No one asked me or said anything about the ring of fire, but I definitely felt it. It lasted through three contractions, and then she was finally born. I needed every bit of the encouragement I was getting from Tim, the nurse and the midwife. They told me when to grab her, and I reached for her. It felt so much further than I expected, but I grabbed my beautiful slippery baby and they helped me pull her up onto my chest.
The nurse suctioned her nose and mouth without me really noticing - I saw it in pictures later. There was no NICU team in the delivery room because of the meconium. They just sectioned her out and that was that.
My saline lock had fallen out at some point while I was pushing, so they gave me a shot of pitocin in my thigh to reduce the risk of hemorrhaging. The placenta kind of came out on it's own. I probably wouldn't have noticed if the midwife hadn't said, "Placenta is out". I asked if I could see it, and she held it up for me. It was smaller than I expected.
I didn't need any stitches, which I was so relieved about. Then they cleaned me up. Apparently, I still had meconium water all over my legs. Super cute.
After I held her for a bit, they took her to weigh and measure. She was a big girl - 9 lbs 4 oz and 20.5 inches long. Because of her size, they started doing blood sugar checks to make sure she was not diabetic, and while they did that I changed into a dress that was not covered in a mess of various fluids.
They gave her back to me and tucked us under a mess of blankets. She nursed right away. Again, after my experience with my first baby, I was so surprised by how easy it was this time. She needed a little help, but mostly, she totally nailed it. We were stuck in the hospital for an extra night because she'd pooped so much in utero that she didn't have anything left to poop once she was out, and the pediatrician would not sign off on our release until she'd had a bowel movement. It was a bummer, but we agreed that we'd rather be steps away from help than miles away, in the event that there was an emergency.
Since then, the last three weeks have flown by. She is such a wonderful baby. I could not be more thankful or more in love. She is the perfect addition to our family, and I cannot wait to watch her grow.
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