Week Fifteen: Reflecting

As my little baby O approaches one whole year on this earth, I find myself getting all sorts of nostalgic and reflective. So I'm going to share our birth story in honor of his birthday next week. Real birth details follow, so read at your own discretion. Here we go:

I think the story of Owen's birth really doesn't start on his birthday, but two days earlier. It was a Sunday {41 weeks and 2 days} and I was having contractions. I had had contractions here and there for a couple weeks at this point but they always went away. These weren't going away. I tried to ignore them so as not to get my hopes up. They got stronger. They got consistent. Cautiously optimistic, I started timing them. I tried everything to make them stop {not that I wanted them to stop- I just didn't want to be tricked if it wasn't the real deal} and nothing worked. I walked, I laid down, I took a bath. I called the on-call midwife and she said to wait it out and that she'll see me later tonight when I come in, she was sure this was it!

I went to bed, planning on getting as much sleep as I could before I'd have to head into the hospital in the middle of the night and deliver a baby.

Then I woke up. It was morning, and my contractions had stopped. I felt 100% defeated. I pulled myself together and got to my midwife for my previously scheduled membrane sweep. I cried as soon as she came into the room. We talked about how I felt like my body let me down and she let me know she was there for me. We had previously scheduled an induction for Wednesday but as I sat there sobbing, just wanting to meet my baby, so tired of being tricked by my own body, and all around done with pregnancy Mike and I decided to move up the induction to the next day.

What worked out wonderfully is that my midwife was working at the hospital that Tuesday. So, even though I had all sorts of guilt over not giving him that extra day to come on his own, I was excited that someone I knew and who knew me would be there to deliver him.

I had wanted so badly to avoid an induction. I had it in my head that induction would lead me down a path I didn't want for O's birth with drugs and complications and stalled labor and everything. I am so glad that I was able to come to peace with the induction because it really wasn't the end of the world.

We walked out the door Tuesday morning to a fresh 3+ inches of April 23rd snow. Thanks, Minnesota. My spring baby was going to be born with snow on the ground! It was beautiful though. Ya know...if it had been December.

April winter wonderland.

Hours away from being a family of three. 

We arrived at St. John's ready as we ever could be, trying to wrap our heads around being parents later that day. The first nurse we had was kind of a B {thank goodness she was only around for a little while before a new nurse came on}, but she told me the greatest lie, and one I am so glad I heard right before starting this journey. She asked if I was nervous {good job, stupid lady- remind the woman she is nervous} and I said I was worried that I would end up with an epidural because of the pitocin and that I really wanted to try to do it without drugs. She scoffed and said, "It is pretty much the same either way- to do it with pitocin or not."

And I know she was full of it, as a bazillion women who have had both pitocin and no pitocin can attest to. But damn, it was what I needed to hear. 

She totally botched my IV. It was in my hand and a couple seconds after she had it in my skin bubbled up to the size of a golf ball or more and I panicked. The nurse acted all panicked and flustered as well which, as you can imagine, was super comforting. Luckily she managed to fix it but I was bleeding everywhere. To try and help the situation {spoiler alert, it didn't help} she tried to talk through what was happening and why it wasn't a big deal. {"See, the fluid was just getting right under the skin instead of into your vein, it is totally fine. This is how they get fluids in some elderly people..."} Mike doesn't like needles and veins in the first place, so this conversation was his cue to walk out into the hall and make a phone call to work that he wouldn't be in for about 2 weeks. :)

She finally got it fixed and in my hand properly and we were ready to start the pitocin. It was about 10:30am. I got hooked up to the contraction/heart rate monitor. They hooked me up to the one in the room at first, to which I said no way. They found a portable one and switched it over pretty quickly and I was able to be mobile which made me happy and far less claustrophobic. My lovely midwife came in and checked me out, chatted for a bit, and told me to move around. 

Lounging. Texting.

Since I had the option to move around I felt totally fine lounging in bed for a while. We ordered some lunch and after eating I felt like we should walk around. Mike and I made approximately 92,873,149,820 laps around the maternity care center at the hospital. There was this janitorial staff lady who stopped me on one of the laps to tell me that I was "SO cute" because I was wearing my tennis shoes {almost totally unlaced since my feet were so swollen}, tank top, and cotton comfy skirt. I knew as soon as I found out you didn't *have* to wear a hospital gown that I was not going to. 

Yum...hospital food! Haha, it wasn't the worst grilled cheese I've ever had. 

I started feeling contractions shortly after the pitocin started, but they were super mild, hence the lounging. After lunch, I'd say close to noon, I decided to finally follow directions and move around. It was nice to walk around, especially as the contractions got more intense. In anticipation of labor I often wondered if I would know when to go into the hospital. They say to go in when you can't walk through a contraction anymore. I thought that was a silly thing to say because everyone's pain threshold is different. Holy cow. There really is a point when you *can't* walk through them anymore. I don't think it had as much to do with the pain level as the fact that your middle got so tight that your legs forgot how to move. Maybe it was the intense pain. Haha, it's been a year. I don't remember!

My super attractive get-up I labored in. 

At some point I was checked to make sure I was dilating, which I was, and that's when the bloody show came. What a horrible, but totally accurate, name. Bloody show. Yuck. Things were getting pretty painful around 3 or 4:00. I remember we had stopped walking and were back in the room. I was leaning over a cart/table thing and eating my margarita lime flavored popsicles and putting it in an empty cup when a contraction came because I couldn't hold on to the popsicle and get through the contraction at the same time. Thank goodness for Mike's calm presence and back rubs. 

It was around that time that things are a little more hazy in my memory. Shortly after my popsicles and leaning my AMAZING nurse coached me through some contractions while I rested in bed, then offered a bath. {I had signed the consent to have a waterbirth, but in the moment I just wasn't feeling it so we decided laboring in the tub and birthing on land would be a good option}. It was amazing. I remember her reasoning with me about taking my bandeau bra off to get in the tub because she didn't want me to be cold when I got out, but because of the IVs I could only take it off and then thread it along and hang it on the IV cart thing. She put a hand towel over my belly and chest and had mike hold the hand held shower head thing over me. It was amazing. I said that already, but that's really how wonderful it was. My nurse stayed with Mike and me the whole time from about then on.

The tub was so wonderful, I got anxious. I started to worry that I had gotten in too soon, that I had stalled my labor. My fears of a stalled labor and complications started to surface when my midwife stepped in to calm me down. She laughed when I said I thought my labor might have slowed down. She was looking at the monitor which clearly showed my consistent contractions. She popped out to check on other patients a couple times while I was in the tub but for the most part she was there with us the entire time.

In my head Mike was going to be my rock for labor and birth. In reality I couldn't look him in the eyes. When I did I could tell he was having such a hard time seeing me in pain and it just made it hard to look at him. So my focal point became my midwife or nurses eyes. I stared in their eyes and held Mike's hand and things kept moving along. I remember dozing off between contractions for seconds at a time in the tub. How strange, right? At some point, just before 6:00 I think, my body started pushing. I wasn't pushing, but my body was. Such a strange sensation. 

My midwife checked me and I was almost at 10cm so they helped me out of the tub and into the bed. I remember moving around a bit but ending up laying on my back to push. In between pushes I kept saying "I want to be efficient, I'm not supposed to be on my back!" but it's how I ended up and my midwife kept assuring me that I was doing an awesome job. 

The pushing felt fantastic. Well, as fantastic as pushing a baby out of a 10cm opening can feel. But compared to the contractions, it was great. It had an end. Labor could have gone on forever, but in my mind pushing meant I was almost done. I could almost meet our baby. I don't remember it feeling like I was pushing that long. I remember being encouraged when my midwife and nurse said that they were off work, but that since he was going to be here any minute they were staying with me for his birth. I figured that I must be close if they were willing to stay!

I only vaguely remember this part, but is one of Mike's favorite stories to tell about the birth: well into pushing my water hadn't broken, but it was bulging. They draped cloths over everything in the room that would have possibly been in the...we'll say "splash zone"...and when the midwives and nurses moved around the room they would walk but then do a little jog when they passed that area. Eventually they broke my water for me, which took two or three tries with that crochet hook looking thing. Bag of waters? Ha! Bag of steel, apparently!

Before my water was broken they thought that there could be meconium just by how it looked. They called in whoever you call in when that is the case and my frazzled brain tried to remember what on earth happened if that was the case. All I could think was, they better put this baby right in my arms or I'm going to cry. Turned out there was no meconium after all. 

I pushed for somewhere around an hour because around 7:00 my midwife had me reach down and feel his head. It was there. He was almost here. At 7:09 he was no longer an inside baby.

.

They put my slimy little baby right into my hands and I pulled him up onto my chest. Talk about the most intense emotions you can ever experience. I'm getting chills typing this. Mike and I were meeting our son for the first time. It was everything and nothing I expected it to be all at once. How can you expect anything for that moment? It was so unique and so intense and so full of joy. 

I remember while I was pushing, my midwife {not the one actually delivering Owen} grabbed our camera from the bedside table and asked if she should take a few pictures. Sure? I didn't know until I saw the pictures how much I wanted them. We both forgot until much later that evening that she took any pictures at all. What an amazing surprise to find 50+ photos of those first moments on the camera. 

Favorite first picture of our brand new family. 7:11pm

She captured my last push- my last pregnant moment. She captured everything from the moment he met my hands to all our skin to skin snuggles to the cord eventually being cut by Mike. I sent her a thank you card, but I feel like I owe her so much more. I am so happy that these pictures exist. Even the ones where I look like a hot mess, because without them I don't think my memories of those moments after Owen was born would be so crisp. I think they would be much more like the haze of emotions that came over the next few days. 

Mike's first moment with O.  

In awe. 

Skin to skin.

Baby's first latch.

After about an hour of snuggles they took him across the room to get his stats.
The glare is hiding the weight reading on the screen. 

Daddy kept him close while he was measured and weighed.

Eventually the dust settled and we were left alone. A family of three. I still can't believe they let us just leave. They let us just take him home. We didn't know what we were doing! It has been such an adventure. I can't even believe that it has already been a year since this day happened. 

Sweet baby O on his birthday. {Candle is a zero, not an O} 

The days and weeks that followed had a lot of ups and downs for both Mike and I, and hormonal breakdowns for me. No one said the early days postpartum were easy. But I'm so grateful for all of it. The fact that we have this sweet little guy in our lives makes everything worth it. 

-H