Before I lose the details to lots of all-night breastfeeding marathons and all-day fun with my husband and THREE BOYS (Yay!!!!!!! For real! Yay!!!!!!!!!), I want to write the story of our third son's birth. It was a FUN one!
Before we had any kids, I had a strong interest in natural childbirth. Looking back, though, I did not know how to educate myself about it. Baby One was late, and my blood pressure got high, so his birth involved pitocin, an eventual epidural, and emergency c-section (because his cord turned out to be wrapped around his chest/shoulders). Scary! Baby Two was a planned unmedicated/natural VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean). You can read about those two in more detail HERE (the link didn't work. Sorry. Dec 2013 is where that story is on this blog.), if you want.
Our second son, born more than three years ago, came in five hours after we arrived at the hospital ... and I thought THAT was fast.
What did I know!? Haha!
This baby, Baby Three, also was a planned unmedicated VBAC. With Number Two we had prepared for doing it naturally by reading The Bradley Method. I recommend that book because of how it helped me. This time, because of questions I actually had the ability to know to ask after birthing a baby with no medication, my husband and I enlisted in a two-hour private birthing class to help us prepare to do it again. The instructions we received there, as well as the booklet I got to take home and read over the following few weeks, really helped me prepare my mindset. Now that I am on this side of his birth, I really know it helped SO much with helping me feel prepared (for the many different possibilities of timing, positions, etc.), which helped me feel relaxed, not just anxious. (Contact me if you want the Tiny Seeds Birth Services info.)
Before I share all the details, I feel like knowing "the ending" will make the beginning and middle more fun: My husband and I arrived at the hospital in a *rush*, myself waddling through constant contractions, at 5:10 pm, with him aiding me along the way. Our sweet, precious, darling son was born 39 minutes later. He was two days past his due date.
Our first two children were born one week late, so most of me just assumed Number Three would too. At about 37 weeks pregnant, I started having Braxton-Hicks practice contractions all day, every day, as well as some nights. This did NOT happen with my first two, so my mind started playing the "What if the baby comes early?" game with me -- which drove this pregnant woman bananas! For three-plus weeks.
His Thursday, February 23, due date came. He did not. Ever heard of PregoSaurus!? I just knew it would be at least one more week, just like the first two. Ugh.
Ha!
The next night, Friday, the Braxton Hicks contractions changed to real ones. I could tell they were different, not painful or unbearable, but lower and more defined, so I started tracking them on my app. They stayed consistent but moved from between eight minutes and almost twenty minutes all night. (They say that when they stay at five minutes apart for an hour, you should head to the hospital.) I did not feel any rush. They did keep me awake, but at the same time I felt relaxed because I just assumed this was the beginning of a two or three day process. (With Baby Two, I did have similar contractions for the two days before he came on his own; so that, in addition to my previously late babies, made me just feel relaxed/annoyed that the time was coming/not yet.)
Haaaa!
Saturday morning came, contractions stayed consistently between eight and twenty minutes. Still not unbearable, but certainly definite and consistent. We were relaxing at home. I was staying busy with chores and sitting on my medicine ball to wiggle my hips. And starting to feel excited and dreamy.
Nap time -- the contractions were hurting more, but definitely not unbearable, and had been staying closer to 8 or 9 minutes since lunch. I laid down. I couldn't sleep. But I felt very relaxed. So I just closed my eyes. Some contractions hurt enough that I got on all fours to wiggle out my hips through them (which helps take the pressure of baby's head off lower back). I just felt a really strange combination of very relaxed and anxious about when our baby would come.
After nap time. My husband was practicing violin with our 6-year-old, so I tried to play Rescue Bots with our 3-year-old, but the now painful contractions were stopping me... what was the tracker saying? What? Every 4 to 5 minutes!? What! Oh.
Now my excitement and dreaminess was beginning to feel like panic and denial. Nah. Not today. These are just the beginning of a days long process because I am always pregnant for at least 41 weeks. Not today. Not now.
But ouch.
And I can't deny the clock.
I just tried to keep my mind on my 3yo and Rescue Bots. But it was getting harder to do. We were approaching 45 minutes of really painful contractions coming between 3:30 and 5 minutes apart.
When my husband and son were done with violin I tried to let my husband know without getting excited. I really didn't want myself or anyone else (my hubby, our boys, the waiting grandparents, friends) to get really excited if it still wasn't going to happen for a couple days. So I just showed him the contraction tracker information on my phone.
He smiled big.
Then he could see how the pain of contractions was taking my breath away.
He said we needed to get ready.
I kinda held off about ten more minutes, but the contractions were coming between 2 and 3 minutes apart all of a sudden, really bashing me. This was less than an hour from when I had started feeling the painful ones.
Panic. Tears. Yet excitement.
We need to go!
What if we have a baby in the car?
My mom came as fast as she could to stay with our boys. We left. They were SO excited!
During the twenty-minute ride to the hospital, the very painful contractions were happening 1 to 2 minutes apart. I couldn't remember how to get to the hospital. Even though I know where it is. I tried to think, but gave up. It is a good thing my husband was the driver. Haha! And he stayed so calm and reassuring through every pain and every panic of mine. And even though I had that anxiety and panic, all the things I had learned about relaxing my body were truly helping me just take every contraction one step at a time. It is hard to describe.
We parked. We got out. My husband later told me he didn't know I could walk that fast. I had to stop when the contractions, a minute apart, got me. I stopped tracking them once we had parked. They were so close and so hard. At that point, the pain was constant, with some waves less intense than the big ones.
I just had to make it to the door. And then to the Admissions desk, where I gasped through gritted teeth, "I'm having a baby!" The receptionist firmly said, "I understand." Hahahaha! It is so funny to remember. She showed Justin where to get me a wheelchair while she got my prepared papers. I tried to walk because I really did NOT want to sit. But the contractions hurt too much to move my feet when they happened, so the wheelchair was the most efficient way to get to my next step: up the elevator and to triage.
When we arrived at triage, the attendant could tell she needed to move fast. I just wanted my clothes off and the baby out. She didn't ask for any information other than contraction timing. She checked me.
This is the most hilarious response: "You're at a 5 or 6... to an 8. Your cervix is so stretchy that it could be almost anything." (For those who don't know, a cervix should be at least 4cm for the hospital to admit a woman in active labor. 10cm is pushing/arrival size.)
She just got me in a wheelchair and showed Justin to our delivery room, where the three nicest nurses were moving in a flurry to get things ready for a fast baby. Looking back, they reminded me of wonderful medical fairies, the way they were pleasantly and competently busy about my birthing business.
They hooked up the monitor for the baby's heart and got my IV in, and they tried to ask me questions. Tried. I was in a whole new world of relaxing through intense pain before a huge physical trial. Every time I had a contraction, I wanted to stand up, and they were so nice to let me do it once all the monitors were wired. Funny to me, they did not hook my c-section scar up to any monitors -- which was a *big* deal at the other hospital in our old town with Baby Two. Maybe because it was happening so fast? Maybe because less than one percent of c-section scars ever tear during a VBAC? I wasn't worried about the scar. I was in pain and I just wanted to meet my baby!
This whole time my wonderful husband was speaking the calmest, most affirming words to me, letting me squeeze his hand through the pain, reminding me to keep my jaw and body as relaxed as possible.
My midwife Hannah got there in about five minutes. She said the triage attendant told her that my water was about to burst, and she is just glad she didn't accidentally do that when she checked me (because that would have brought Baby before midwife arrival). Hannah checked and said that was definitely the case. Would I want her to break it? Because then the baby would come immediately. (After it was all finished, she told us if it had broken on its own at home, we would have had a baby on the side of the road.)
Yes. I had thought about that before I even went into labor. I was okay with her breaking it, as long as Baby was safe.
She pinched the water sack with her gloved fingers. Pop. Sploosh. Here comes the flood.
Ouchy-Wow-a!!!!!!! (Yet still able to breathe and relax through the extremely engaging pain. In a totally different zone to accomplish the necessary event.)
I had to take that blasted hospital gown off. Ugh!!!! (Not because of appearance, but because of functionality.) And they happily accommodated me. Great nurses/midwife! How has anyone not invented something more functional for standard pregnancy attire by this point!? Lol. I needed to move when the pain moved me, not readjust a dang piece of fabric all over my very busy body. Ha!
They were still letting me stand up beside the bed, and they weren't gonna make me lie down again. (If you are a first-time mommy, know that you can talk to your doctor about different positions. Some may allow you to do your own thing. Or you can find one that does. You do not have to lie back in that bed, unless you want to.)
Three pushes later (one minute separating each), our third precious son was born to a standing, buck-naked woman and her wonderful, supportive husband. So funny and beautiful to me! I had to step around his cord, in quite a beautiful mess of life liquids, and they placed him in my arms. Happy crying. Joyful crying. Crying in ecstasy that this whole journey of a human's making has resulted in our healthy, beautiful baby. We made it. Together. With our good God. (The nurse got a pic of Justin and me first looking at our son together, but I can never show anyone else, but I am happy we have it.) JOY!!!!! All that pain turns into JOY instantaneously. We waited with all three to learn gender at birth, and my husband got to call it. So exciting!
And then I got to breastfeed him. He was covered in blood and vernix (he had so much of that in-utero lotion) for two hours, cuddling with me, before they took us to our overnight room. It was really nice to just be in that moment together so peacefully and naturally (as possible in a hospital). 8 lbs., 6 oz and 20.5 inches long. My biggest baby. The darkest hair of our blonde boys. Such a sweet cuddly, fuzzy ball of live wonder and soul!
So much happened SO fast after the waiting of pregnancy. I call it Happiness Whiplash.
God is so good. We are so incredibly thankful for the good health and a happy "endings" (which is really just another beginning). We realize God is the One who sustains us, not happiness. But we praise/bless/thank Him when the circumstances are so delightful. And we pray to glorify Him through trust if/when they are not.
