A Birth Story

In a groggy haze I rolled over in bed and looked at the clock. It was 4:00 on Saturday morning. I had been in a deep sleep having a dream that I couldn't remember, when something odd woke me up. My full bladder pressed me to roll out of bed and shuffle into the bathroom, as I did so often lately in the middle of the night.

It was then that I realized I was soaking wet.

I immediately knew what this meant, solely because I had been through the exact same experience only a few years earlier during my first pregnancy.

My water had ruptured.

I was wide awake now, my adrenaline kicking in as I realized what this meant. Today was exactly two weeks from his expected due date, but if my water had torn there was a very good possibility that he would be coming much sooner. There was a very good possibility he could be coming today.

Even so, I tried to keep my hopes at bay, just in case. I changed my clothes and crawled back in bed, where I lay awake staring at the ceiling and day dreaming about the sweet little boy I might be meeting soon. I said a few nervous prayers, I googled my questions about the color of the amniotic fluid that was leaking to make sure it was normal, and I mentally prepared a list of the things I needed to put in a bag to take to the hospital.

And then I waited.

When Dan woke up to get ready for work, I told him the news. We decided he would still go into work because I wasn't having any contractions and it didn't seem urgent at all. We would go into the hospital later tonight to be evaluated and make sure everything was okay. Because this had happened to me before, I knew that the hospital recommended going in immediately if you think your water has ruptured. But because this had happened to me before, I also knew that I could be in the hospital for a very long time if I went in too soon.

So we decided to wait.

Dan left for work and assured me he would keep his phone close in case I needed him to come home quickly. Jace woke up soon afterwards, and while he played I spent the morning cleaning and preparing for the possibility of something exciting. I did some dishes and tidied up a bit. I painted my nails and curled my hair. I packed a bag of necessities, topped off with a freshly cleaned tiny newborn onesie, the same tiny newborn onesie that Jace wore home from the hospital three years ago. It was brown and in green writing it read, handsome like daddy.

Throughout the day I felt a few contractions here and there, but they were very mild and very inconsistent. I had the butterflies in my stomach. I had a smile on my face. I had an extra spring to my step.

And my water continued to leak.

Around lunch time I stood in the kitchen preparing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for Jace, when I felt something odd again. I made my way into the bathroom, barely walking in the door when it happened.

A gush of water fell down my legs, puddling onto the floor below me. Another and another, soaking my skirt and the bathroom rug.

My water broke. My water broke!

"Jace baby, will you bring mom a towel?" I called out from the bathroom.

"Oh sure, yeah mom!" I heard him pulling the towel drawer open in the kitchen, as he called out again "You hab a accident mom?"

"Yep, I had an accident..."

He opened the bathroom door and handed me a towel, looking down at the puddle I stood over.

"Ohhh no, you hab a accident! It's okay mom. Clean it up. It's okay."

"Thanks baby. Will you bring me my phone too? I need to call daddy..."

Not twenty minutes later Dan was home and feeling rushed to get us into the hospital. It was all real now, and we knew that we would soon be holding our newest addition. The adrenaline pumped in our blood and we headed out the door with our bags in tow.

As we left Jace at Grandpa's house, I gave him a big hug and a mushy kiss good-bye and excitedly told him, "We are going to the hospital to get baby brother and bring him home!"

"No danks mom." He politely replied.

Another hug and kiss and we were out the door, on our way to the hospital in eager anticipation. We were so eager that we were a little spacey at first, as we hopped into the elevator and stood for a while before we realized that we hadn't pressed the button to our floor. When we did press the button, we went straight to floor three which was actually the floor for labor recovery, so we were quickly sent away to floor two feeling a little sheepish. Finally we arrived on the correct floor to check in. I signed some papers and kept my legs squeezed together tightly so that the excess water wouldn't keep dripping down my legs.

But it did anyway.

We followed a nurse back into our room and I was acutely aware of the quiet.

"Where is everyone?" I asked her.

"There's no one here, you're the only one!"

The routine after gowning up was all a slightly nerve wrecking da-ja-vu at this point. I was wrapped with two monitors, one for baby and one for my contractions. I was poked to place a heplock IV in my arm. I tested positive for amniotic fluid, which assured the nurse that my water did in fact break.

And then we waited.

We waited for two hours, at which point my contractions were still mild and I was only dilated to a 3. I wasn't progressing, and in another da-ja-vu moment the nurse told me that they would recommend pitocin to speed things up.

With Jace I had different plans for giving birth. All natural, no pitocin! Let him come when he's ready! And he did. Thirty miserable hours later, he did.

In that moment I foresaw the same thirty hour labor and I knew I wouldn't do that again. So I said, yes! Give me the pitocin! Let's get this baby here!

And so she did. I felt a rush of cold in my veins as she began the IV to pump the pitocin.

And we waited.

Two hours later I was ready for the epidural. Because it was such a slow day for births, the anesthesiologist was not in the hospital and had to be called in. It turns out that I was the first person to get an epidural that day. And it turns out that the lucky man was called in just as he was sitting down to eat dinner with his wife. But let's not feel bad for him, and if you do I'll go ahead and show you the nice bill he racked up from missing dinner that night to come put me out of my pain.

Just as it ended up with my first labor, the epidural was heavenly. Oh how I loved that epidural! Worth every penny, I say!

After the epidural I was still slowly progressing. The night got late and we found ourselves wondering if this babe would make it today, or if it would be tomorrow. The nurse increased my pitocin.

And we waited.

We watched the movie two weeks notice.

And we waited.

I started to feel incredibly nauseous and light headed. I kept adjusting the position of the bed, up and down, but nothing helped. I was becoming discouraged and holding back tears and feeling frustrated because I foresaw that same thirty hour labor happening all over again.

Dan snuck downstairs for a snack and found a movie rental machine. He read me my options and in my nauseous and discouraged state, I chose sex and the city. Sure, why not, let's pass this time with SJP and the girls! And only when the nurse inevitably walked in on a raunchy scene did I regret my movie choice.

And we waited.

At twenty minutes to midnight I was at a seven. Our nurse told me about this position we could try, where I would lay on my left side and slip my right foot into a stirrup. Sometimes, she told us, this would move the baby just right and they would be all ready to go.

"If it works it will be pretty quick." She told us.

Not minutes after my foot hit the stirrup I felt immense pressure in my bottom. I told Dan I had to poo.

"Should I get the nurse? Maybe it means he's coming?"

I hesitated because she had just checked me minutes before, and I didn't want to bother her again just because I had to use the bathroom.

But Dan is a smart man and he got the nurse anyway. In she came, taking one look before she said, "Yep, he's coming! I'll go call the doctor!"

Relief. RELIEF, RELIEF, RELIEF. Relief washed over me like a waterfall because soon he would really be here. Because I wasn't having a thirty hour labor. Because the past long nine months, and the past scary, painful few hours would all be worth it. My teeth started to chatter and my hands started to shake.

Three pushes.

That's all it took, three pushes and our sweet tiny miracle found himself in the gloved hands of the doctor, being passed quickly into my anxious open arms.

He had a head full of thick, curly hair. His eyes were wide open, and while I held him and kissed him and welcomed him into the world, he quietly studied my face and stared into my eyes. He knew who I was, he knew my voice.

And we were in heaven.

Eight pounds that fits perfectly into the crook of your elbow of heaven. Coos and grunts and gulps of milk heaven. The smell of newborn baby heaven. Millions of kisses on soft squishy cheeks heaven.

Oh be still my heart.

I'm still on an oxytocin high, flying on cloud nine and soaking up the sweetness that is our new little one. The past four days have been so very wonderful, and I'm just so in love that I am seriously considering having ten more.

Beck is so very sweet and so very perfect. He has filled a hole in my heart that I never knew I had. We are so very in love! Even big brother Jace has pleasantly surprised us with his sweetness to his new little brother. I read Beck a book mom. I hold his bottle. Beck play with my monster twucks. Let's give Beck juice mom, no milk. Shhhh baby beck, shhhhh. Ees okay.

And now, just a few favorites from the millions of pictures that have filled my iphone in the past four days!

Enjoy. And more to come soon!

1 comment:

  1. Oh my goodness, oh my goodness!!! Congratulations!!!!!!! He is absolutely perfect and you somehow managed to look absolutely beautiful during your delivery! And I am now absolutely jealous that I still have to wait to hold my sweet baby... ;). So so happy for you!