The birth story

Both kids are napping! This! is! awesome! Will probably never happen again, so I'm going to type fast.

To update on Molly, she is doing so well. She went to her follow-up appointment with the pediatrician who saw her in the hospital and she is already back up to her birth weight! Day-um! So needless to say, baby girl has a nice appetite. Good thing I'm a cow and make enough milk to keep up with her. She has not yet turned into a monster newborn that wakes up every. single. hour. like another newborn that I barely survived, but sleeps AT LEAST 2.5 hours at a time, and sometimes longer. Hopefully typing that will not cause those lovely habits to cease because then I will be DEVASTATED.

Ok. That about sums up what's happening in Molly's world. I'm now fixin' to get into the birth story, so if you're a male that is related to me, or if you don't want to read any potentially gross details about birth in general, this is where we part ways. See ya next time!

Alright you troopers. Here we go.

After resigning myself to the fact that I would be pregnant for all eternity, I made another batch of fudge. Just. in. case. That evening (Monday), I started having pretty regular contractions. Sam was getting SUPER fussy and in between timing contractions and occupying him, I was kind of over it. Steve kept texting me from work giving me later and later arrival times and I might have gone a little diva on him and told him that I cannot handle contractions, a fussy toddler, and no help anymore. Knowing what's good for his health, he made it home soon after. Steve took care of Sam for the rest of the evening and I bounced around on my ball, timing contractions and hoping this was "it." According to the timer on my phone, my contractions were consistently lasting about 38-56 seconds long, and coming every 5ish minutes. Steve was running around like a crazy person, packing things and running errands and tidying up the house. That is so cute to watch.

After sitting around and watching the contractions until 11pm, we decided to just go to bed. I have read about women who have contractions like this for days with no progression and I was afraid that that would be my story too. So we went to bed and I listened to Hypnobabies. The contractions continued, but I was able to sleep through them. Until.... 3:45am. My Hypnobabies had finished and I was really starting to feel something. So instead of squirming around in bed anymore, I decided I'd go downstairs and time them. And blog. Steve came downstairs around 5. I told him that this was definitely it. Despite the contractions being a little more spaced out in the beginning, they quickly picked up and the intervals between them were rapidly decreasing. At one point it went from 5 minute intervals to 2.5. I was hoping to hold out until around 7, when Sam would normally get up, but after a few more close contractions, I knew we wouldn't be able to hang out here that long. Steve went and got Sam up, Sam was very VERY unhappy about being awakened at such an ungodly hour, and Steve dropped him off at my friend's house. Steve then came home to pick me up. He loaded the rest of the things into the car and locked the front door. As soon as he locked it, he turned around and said, "Oh, did you want me to bring that water with me?" Yes. So he unlocked the door and goes back inside. He comes back out and locks the door again. I asked if he remembered to get the fudge. "Nope." He goes back inside again and gets the fudge (I'll be DAMNED if we don't take that friggin' fudge to the hospital!!!). We finally leave. The roads were kinda crazy because everyone was going to PT. It was bizarre seeing that much traffic so early in the morning, but then again, I am usually tucked in bed at that hour, so clearly I live a charmed life.

We make it to the hospital and park. It's really empty and there is one man at the registration desk. When I pre-registered, the girl told me that women in labor get first priority and get sent straight up to L&D after checking in. So we stood there behind this man (who was taking his sweet sweet time filling out some paperwork), and the woman behind the counter paid us NO attention. I am CLEARLY pregnant and it is CLEARLY 6 in the morning and what in the Sam hill would I be doing at the hospital at that time if not to have a baby??? I finally had enough and just blurted out, "So do we just head on up to L&D ourselves or do we need to sign in?!" She said, "Oh, you need to sign in." And then went straight back to whatever she was doing before. I think the slow man doing the paperwork could feel the fire coming out of my ears, so he stepped aside. The lady behind the desk sent us to one of the rooms where I had previously pre-registered. I have no idea what pre-registering was for, because I basically did it all over again in that little room. Only this time, I was in labor. So obviously that was a barrel of monkeys. The lady doing our registration asked, "So are you here for an induction or a c-section?" I replied, "I'm here for a regular delivery. I'M IN LABOR." She clearly didn't believe me, and although that should be taken by me as a compliment that Hypnobabies was really working, it only served to piss me off. She continued to take her time with everything and then said that once I went upstairs, they were probably going to observe me for about 2 hours. Because, ya know, I'm not really in labor.

We FINALLY get cleared to go upstairs and get settled in a room. The nurse didn't believe I was in labor either and did not even bother checking me when I got the gown on and in bed. She said that they would observe me for another two hours and then see where I was at. I started telling her that I had been timing my contractions for a few hours and they were definitely in the "active labor" category at this point, but that didn't seem to phase her. She finally finished asking me all of her questions and taking my blood pressure and making small talk and THEN she decided that she'd check me. Just for fun, you know. It felt like she was in up to her elbow, and right then I got worried that maybe I had shrunk back down to 1cm. But she looked at me all wild-eyed and said, "Oh. Um. You're 8cm." Ha! Ya think? I explained that I was doing Hypnobabies and it's all about relaxation and blah blah blah and that's probably why you had no idea I was so far along. (aka: TOLD YA SO.)

Now here, I will confess, that despite my immaculate birth plan and Hypnobabies training and prep, I was contemplating an epidural. I even told Steve about it. I didn't want to "fail" at a natural birth (especially since I already knew I could do it!), but thinking about the pushing phase during Sam's birth was literally giving me the shakes. And I mean that I couldn't sit still on the bed because I was so anxious just thinking about pushing. I pushed with Sam for 2.5 hours. And it was miserable. I kept telling the doctor that "this hole is not big enough!" and despite being calm and not screaming or asking for meds, I still did not enjoy it. And apparently those feelings were trapped deeeeeeeeep in my subconscious because it was consuming me at that point. So. Back to the story.

I asked the nurse about an epidural. She laughed it off and said, "Oh honey, you've come this far on your own, I don't think you'll need one!" And while the contractions could still not be classified as painful (thank you Hypnobabies), I could not get my pushing fears out of my brain. So I kept on asking. And she kept on saying that she wasn't sure, they had to do some bloodwork first, yadda yadda. After asking a few more times (aren't they usually PUSHING these things on people?), they finally started the bloodwork needed to be sure I could receive an epidural. But first they had to start an IV. Poor IV lady blew out my first vein. So she stuck me again (in the HAND yamma mamma) and that one took. Then the bloodwork lady came in and got so caught up talking to me about something that she pulled out the needle and slapped a bandage on me before she realized that she forgot to draw blood for the most important test. (OF COURSE) So she started feeling around on my other hand for a vein to poke when I asked, "Can't you just go back through that hole you just made? Or is it necessary to stick me in the hand?" She said, "Oh sure, I figured going back through your arm might be more painful." More painful than the hand? Really? I don't see how. (And it wasn't painful at all.)

Once we FINALLY got all of the excessive needle-poking out of the way, the nurses (Melanie and Melanie- that did my pregnancy brain some good) told me that Bernie would be coming in to do the epidural. They went on and on about Bernie. "Bernie is soooo funny! Bernie is soooo nice! You'll just loooooove Bernie!" Well, Bernie took his sweet time getting in there, and that automatically took points off of his overall score. And then, I kept expecting this super-personable guy to waltz in and make jokes to take my mind off of having a giant needle poking into my spine. But he was much more Lurch-like. He had ZERO personality and instead of being comforting at all during the whole process, he kept telling me what to expect. While that might SOUND helpful, I think it's TERRIBLE. If you tell me that I'm fixin' to experience "a sting and some intense burning" you'd better believe that I'm waiting on just that. Whereas, if you'd just told me I'd feel a slight pinch, I would probably be more inclined to perceive the pain in that way only. Anyways, after Bernie "cleaned" my back (and by "cleaned" I do mean "exfoliated the ever-lovin' skin right off of me"), he did the needle thing and I didn't think it hurt at all. But it wasn't the traditional epidural. It ended up being some sort of titrated drip. Which was fine by me. I had done basically zero research on epidurals at that point and was ok with whatever they suggested. But y'all. The feeling I got from that epidural was WEIRD. Slowly losing the sensation in my lower half was bizarre. The Melanies kept asking me to move in different ways and I just looked at them like they were aliens. I had to pick my legs up to move them anywhere. And forget about my butt. That thing was staying right where it was planted.

After receiving the epidural, I was told that my contractions were seriously slowing down, did I want a bag of Pitocin? UGH. And THIS is why I should not have gotten the epidural. I just knew it was going to lead to intervention after intervention and then it would all affect the baby's heart rate and they would end up suggesting a c-section and my nightmare would come true! Gah! So I declined the pitocin and asked for a re-check in 30 minutes. During this time, the Melanies displayed some super-human strength and adjusted me on the bed so that I was seated very upright. Hoping that gravity would do it's thing, I sat up straight for the next 30 minutes. While this was going on, Steve and I laughed and talked and were really in disbelief that I was in labor. What a different experience from last time! I felt her head move down and then my water broke. (Let's all say a quick prayer of thanks that this did not occur in my living room or the car.) Steve alerted the Melanies and they confirmed that it was clear, baby was fine. Then there was talk of a catheter, and that kinda freaked me out, until I realized that I would not feel (or see! thank God!) anything. The older Melanie stuck the younger Melanie with the catheter job, and I really felt bad for her. But she did a really great job of it and that was probably one of the weirdest feelings ever. Especially since Steve just stood at the end of the bed and WATCHED like she was showing him ESPN or something down there.

After commenting on some pressure down there, Melanie checked me and calmly said, "Ok, well, you're complete. I'll let the doctor know and then you can start pushing." Waaaaahhhh!! It's happening!! I relayed my pushing fears and said that I hoped this would not be another 2.5 hour adventure. The Melanies assured me that this would be super fast. I did not believe them. They go about setting up the room and placing my dead-legs in the stirrups. After I'm all splayed out for God and the world to see, the doctor (did I mention the doc is a dude?) comes strolling in. He sits down and tells me that on my next contraction, try pushing. Well. Melanie waits a minute, checks the monitor, then says, "Um... it appears that your contractions just... stopped." Yep. They would, wouldn't they. So they said, No big deal, we'll just wait for the next one. In the meantime, the doc is still seated down there and continues to just STARE. At this point, I contemplated asking for a mirror, because there is clearly a ball game or stock market numbers or SOMETHING going on down there for these men to be so enthralled. But finally, I said that I think I feel something (not sure whether I actually did, or if I just wanted them to focus on something besides my hooha) and one of the Melanies said that she thought she saw something on the monitor too, so it was cool to start. Y'all. I pushed three times and she was out. I think when they showed her to me, I was really shocked because there was NO WAY that it was that simple. No way. And then to hear that she was a GIRL?! It was more than a little crazy.

Steve followed the nurses and Molly over to the warmer and Steve kept asking them if they thought she was over 8lbs. They said that she didn't look like it, probably not even 8, etc. They took her over to the scale and she clocked in a 8.12.3!!!! Girl was enjoying some fudge, that's for sure.

Doc informed me that I did not tear at all (had a second degree tear with Sam) and that "everything looked good." Well I should hope so with the amount of staring that was taking place. It was (and still kind of is) unreal to me at how fast and easy the whole process was. When we got to the hospital, I was hoping to just be at something greater than 3cm. To hear that I'd gotten to an eight with such minimal discomfort felt like a victory. Getting the epidural, while not originally in my birth plan, proved to be A Very Good Thing. I was truly able to ENJOY the entire birthing experience and had a very short (and non-traumatic) pushing phase.

One of the Melanies asked me afterwards which birth was better. And to be honest? I really can't say. Sam's birth was great. I ENJOYED doing it naturally with Hypnobabies and there was a great personal satisfaction in knowing that my body was capable of doing such things on its own. But Molly's birth was calm and relaxed in a different kind of way and I enjoyed that too. So I can't rate one better or worse than the other. They were both AMAZING experiences and I'm glad to have had them. When/if we have another child, I'm not exactly sure how I'll do things. I'll obviously be employing Hypnobabies once again (because that stuff WORKS), but will just go with the flow for the rest of it.

So, to recap, I started timing the "real" contractions at 3:45am, we got to the hospital around 6:15am. Molly was born at 10:30am. Labor and delivery lasted all of 6 hours and 45 minutes. FAST compared to Sam's 24 hour L&D.

My little chunky monkey is eating like no other and sleeping like I always dreamed a newborn would sleep (meaning: more than an hour at a time). Sam is still working on adjusting to this new situation, but is happy in the meantime to soak up all of his daddy's attention. (I am sort of being ignored at this point. Presumably because I appear to be the sole reason that this new person is here.)

Well, it is time for yet another feeding. Duty calls. And the Dairy Queen must answer.