The Birth Story (very long...)

A disclaimer: I didn't write out my birth story for Clara, partly because it was kinda boring, and partly because I didn't think anyone would care much.  Since then, I've learned I LOVE reading other people's birth stories, and I find it's a way mothers bond with each other.  Please don't feel like you have to read it, it does include details of birth that some may be uncomfortable with.

A second disclaimer: It's really long.  Like, really really long.  I wrote it out thinking I would delete parts of it, but after I was finished I realized I want to keep this for myself.  So... sorry, it's long, feel free to skip to the pictures.  :)

38 weeks and headed to Church, 3 days before going into labor

This entire pregnancy has practically been defined by my contractions.  I first noticed them at 16 weeks (!!!!) and they were painful.  I'm sure they were technically only Braxton Hicks, but I'm not kidding when I'm saying that they hurt.  Anytime I was dehydrated, or walking, or hot, they were there.  It was extremely annoying.  Of course, they only got worse as my pregnancy progressed.  The day before I was 37 weeks, I had my first evening when I was having fairly regular contractions while lying down, and Jordan and I began timing them... was this it?  Alas, it was not, they went away after a few hours.  It happened a couple more times over the next week: in the evenings (usually after I had a busy day of cleaning and getting ready for the baby) I would begin having regular contractions that didn't go away after some water and lying down, we'd time them, they'd be regular, about 10 minutes apart, and then they'd go away.  It was torturous.  I was uncomfortable from being pregnant, and when I was contracting I was in pain, and it was horrible to get my hopes up and for it to go no where.

The truth is I was sure I was going to be OVERDUE (even though I was measuring big and having contractions), because I couldn't deal with the disappointment of hoping to go early and having this painful pregnancy last forever.  Sure, I hoped to go early, but I didn't make any plans for that.  I didn't pack a bag, I was holding out on the idea that my sister would be here to watch Clara while I was in the hospital, and I had projects I was planning on doing right up until the due date.  Really, the only way I thought I could possibly have this baby early is if my doctor recommended an induction because of high blood pressure, and even then I was going to try to convince them to put it off until Robin got here.

I had my regular appointment Wednesday morning at 8am.  The week before I had been dialated to a 2-3, so I was really hopeful I would maybe be at a 4 or so.  My blood pressure had been borderline the last few weeks as well, so I tried to be as stress-free and hydrated as possible.  Jordan and Clara came with me, so I could just drop Jordan off at work after my appointment.  When I went in and they took my blood pressure: 180/90.  OUCH.  The medical assistant started asking me how I was feeling, the truth being that I was fine.  Usually my blood pressure is high at the beginning of the appointment, and when they take it at the end of the appointment, it's gone down to much more tolerable levels.  They measured me and I got checked, and I WAS at a 4!  YAY!  But the check was really painful.  Part of the reason I had looked so big is that the baby was still sitting really high and hadn't really "engaged" into my pelvis.  So when she checked me, it took FOREVER and she was really feeling what was going on (I mention the trauma of the check because it will be pertinent latter in the story...).

She took my blood pressure again and it was 140/90, still too high.  So we started talking induction.  I won't lie, I was totally over being pregnant, and since I was already at a 4 I felt pretty safe that an induction would be successful.  But I thought about all the trouble it was going to be get a sitter for Clara, and I did mention that if there was any way to maybe try to put it off and see if my blood pressure recovered, it would be great if we could wait until my sister got into town a week later.  I was not hopeful they would let me wait, and they didn't... next thing I know, they are coming in and telling me to go strait to the hospital to try to do a "backdoor" induction.  Basically, because I wasn't actually ill at this point, the hospital wasn't super keen on scheduling my induction today, but my doctor thought if she sent me in for observation and labs, they might be able to sneak me in.  She asked if I had a bag packed... haha, I did not.  So we head back home, I make childcare plans for Clara and pack a hospital bag really quickly, and an hour later we are at labor and delivery (about 10:30am).

They get me all hooked up and start watching me.  At this point, I've actually suddenly started to notice some decent, regular contractions.  I don't think much of them, maybe they  kicked back in because I was nervous to go to the hospital and walking around a bunch trying to get stuff ready.  Once on the monitor, we start noticing exactly how regular those contractions are: 5 minutes apart.  But they're pretty mild, I can easily talk through them, so the nurse kinda dismisses it all.  They are taking my blood pressure regularly, and I'm giving great reading, nothing too high at all.

After a while, they check me again, and I"m still at a 4, no progress.  Disappointing.  At this point, even though my contractions are regular, they don't seem to be doing anything and my blood pressure readings are all normal, so it's unlikely they'll admit me today.  But I'm starting to notice that the contractions are getting stronger, and there's a few that I can't talk through... ooookay... what is going on?  Am I here for an induction for high blood sugar, or am I actually in labor?  Or are these just really annoying braxton hicks?  I theorize that possibly my contractions are kicking into high gear because of all the checking my poor cervix is getting sent through (and again, the baby is high, so these are no quick checks).  The nurse basically dismisses all of this (I really get the feeling she does NOT want to admit me...), and prepares me to get sent home and to come back in for an induction the next day.  I'm starting to get upset because my contractions are getting stronger and they're staying fairly regular... she checks me one last time at about 1:30, and I'm still at a 4.  Labs come back all normal, my blood pressure is normal, they send me home on bedrest until tomorrow morning when they'll induce me.  I'm not happy about this, mostly because it makes things even more complicated with Clara.  But I'm happy to not be hooked to machines any longer.  If they're not going to actually induce me, I'd rather not be stuck laying down with those stupid monitors on me, they do tend to make the pain worse.

We get in the car, and I just feel like it's all wrong.  I shouldn't be going home.  Jordan and I run a couple of errands, and the contractions are now coming faster and stronger.  But I'm so confused: I just got sent home (less than an hour ago!) even though I was having regular, fairly strong contractions, and that was apparently NOT enough to stay at the hospital.  How do I tell what's going on?  It's not like I can check myself to see if they're actually doing anything.  I finally call my doctor's office to tell them what's happening: strong contractions every 3-4 minutes apart, but I just got sent home because I wasn't progressing... what am I supposed to do now?  They tell me the doctor will call me back in a few minutes.

Clara's babysitter tells us she'll bring Clara by the house at around 5, so Jordan and I go strait home.  We walk in the door (me in increasing amounts of distress and pain because I don't know what to do), and Jordan runs upstair to change.  Within 5 minutes of being home, the doctor calls and tells me to go back to the hospital.  No joke.

I'd like to take a moment and say that Jordan was not happy.  He honestly believes we're going to go back, stay for another couple of hours, have me complain a bunch, and get sent home again.  I actually don't disagree with him, but I basically just got ordered from my doctor to go back, what am I supposed to say, "No, I don't think so."  ??  And I can't deny that these contractions are different... they are powerful, and I'm feeling them all around my body.  I can't really talk through them any more.  I just don't know what else to do besides go back and see if just getting out of the hospital got me to make some progress.

Back to the hospital we go.  This time, we get a nurse who actually seems to believe me about what's going on, and I get the feeling she's much more willing to talk about possibly admitting me.  Or maybe I"m just looking like I"m in greater distress.  The moment of truth comes: my 4th check of the day... and I'm at a 6 and 75% effaced!  I'm having this baby tonight!  And I didn't need to be induced, I went into labor and progressed to a 6 all on my own!  I won't lie, I was pretty happy about that.  When I was induced with Clara, was at a 1 and about 50% effaced, and the whole process took SO LONG.  This was sure to be so much shorter and an overall happier experience.

So we were admitted into the hospital.  Because I'd managed to get to a 6 on my own, I thought perhaps I wanted to go longer without an epidural.  When I asked about possibly moving around to help with labor, my nurse told me that because I have blood pressure issues (especially associated with movement) that they really didn't want me to do anytihng but lay there.  And that was that, if I had to just lay in the bed and labor, there was no way I was going much longer without an epidural.  After being admitted, I got one within half an hour.  It DID slow down my contractions a bit, but I'm not going to lie, it was a great epidural.  One of the best things about this experience as compared with Clara is I really felt like my nurse cared about my comfort.  Maybe I just wasn't brave enough to ask with Clara for help getting comfortable, but I spent the majority of my time very uncomfortable on my back, even with an epidural.  With Lucy, my nurse suggested laying on my side, and helped manuvur all the pillows so that I was totally comfortable.  It.  Was.  Awesome.  The epidural worked well once again (I could feel my toes the whole time), and Jordan and I were able to talk and rest a bit.  I did have a few lame side effects, the most annoying was itchiness, but it wasn't so bad that I didn't catch a nap. I also felt extremely light-headed at on point, but that faded and overall I would say my epidural basically rocked.

The baby was moving around like crazy the entire time i was in labor.  they kept coming in and having to find her, and my nurses kept talking about her great accelerations... it actually kept making us laugh.  She regularly kicked the heart rate monitor, which made that fun "white noise sound."  Jordan and I kept wondering if she realized that she was coming out, and trying to live it up in the womb while she could.  (Ok, side note, if you haven't read this blog yet, please do... the Honest Toddler is hilarious).

The biggest thing that remained a bit of an issue was the fact that the baby was still so high.  She was still not really engaged, and I got nervous that maybe it was because she was so big, that maybe her head wasn't fitting in the way it should.  When I asked my nurse, she chuckled at me (which might have offended me at a different time, but I was just so grateful to hear my fears were unwarrented that I overlooked her laughing at my question) and said she was almost certain that was the case.  And Clara was also sitting really high even during labor, so apparently this is just how my babies sit.  My doctor wanted to break my water, but she couldn't come in to do it herself at this point, so they were trying to get another doctor to do it.  But because the baby was sitting so high, the other doctor was unwilling to risk a prolapsed cord, which would result in an emergency c-section.  I can't say I was terribly disappointed.  I personally felt I'd rather labor all night than end up in an emergency c-section. They ended up putting me on a pitocin drip to help get the baby lower and engaged.

The weirdest thing that happened is that at one point this other doctor came in to check if the baby had engaged yet.  At this point, my nurses had been telling me that I was at a 7 and 75% effaced.  The new doctor checks me, declares that I"m at most a 4 and 25% effaced, and there was no way he would break my water.  He was very nice to me, but I was now so confused.  So what was I, a 7 or a 4?  Was I never really in labor?  Should I have just stayed home and seen how things had progressed?  Was my nurse earlier so eagar to get me admitted that she pretty much lied?  Was she crazy?

Eventually my doctor managed to come in herself, at about 8pm.  I'd been on pitocin for about 3 hours apparently making BACKWARDS progress (great), and the baby still wasn't coming down.  She talked it out with me, and after explaining the risks and saying that while there was a chance for a prolapsed cord, she wouldn't break my water if she thought it was a real threat, she went ahead and broke my water.  She said the reason that people were getting such different readings on my progress was because things were really "gooshy."  My cervix was very soft, and you could definitely open it up to a 7, but without the baby's head engaging and pushing down on my cervix, I only opened up to a 4.  That made sense to me.  Anyway, there was a lot of fluid when she broke my water and I totally splashed her.  No prolapsed cord (yay!) and things really started to pick up at this point.

At this point I had gotten a great new nurse that I really liked, and she took it upon herself to make sure this baby descended correctly.  She pulled out what she called "The Peanut" which is basically a peanut shaped exercise ball and proped it between my legs.  As soon as she put it in place, I suddenly felt pressure from the baby slowly moving down.  Not enough that I needed to push, but I definitely felt a difference.  About every half an hour would move me from one side to the other, and checking to see where I was feeling pressure.  The most interesting thing was Jordan and I spend a lot of time talking to her about politics!  It was so... strange... here I was, practically going through transition (oh yeah, I threw up), having a nice conversation about Mitt Romney and how Mormons felt about him and various other political topics that I normally shy away from, because I don't want to offend anyone.

At about 10:20pm, she asked if I felt any pressure to push.  I told her no, I hadn't noticed, and she declared that I would very shortly.  I kinda scoffed (how could she know something like that?), but no joke 3 contractions later I was feeling ready and I was at a 10 and fully effaced.  I have no idea how she knew.  And then we started pushing.

I was so sure this was the end.  All my friends who've had second babies in the last few months have said that pushing was so much easier with their second, that they just pushed 3 times and the baby was out, and I was excited to see her.  Alas... I pushed for half an hour.  Way better than the 2 hours of pushing with Clara, but it was still very very taxing.  My doctor came in at about 10:55, and helped me along... and at 11:11pm little Lucy was out!  And there was a reason it took half an hour to have her: she was big!  Everyone gasped as she came out, and my doctor guessed she had to be at least a 9 pounder.  Lucy weighed in at 8lb 14.7 oz (so... basically an ounce away from 9 pounds), but what killed me was her huge head (which my doctor also commented on, and I quickly pointed at Jordan and said, "It's his fault.").  I got to hold Lucy right away and we talked to her while they were stitching me up.  I had a small tear, what my doctor called a "skid mark."  She almost did an episotomy there at the end because as the baby was crowning (her and her big head), her blood pressure suddenly dropped.  My doctor decided to let me give it one more push to see if I could get her out without one.  I'm very grateful to my doctor that she waited, because my recovery has been so much easier with just one small tear.

Lucy was very healthy with a nice big cry (as compared to Clara who struggled initially and had a very  pitiful, quiet cry when she came out.  Clara ended up spending an hour in the NICU on the CPAP machine).  People couldn't get enough of her cheeks and double chin.  I was so grateful this time that I didn't have to be seperated from her at any point.  The hospital I delivered at doesn't have a nursery, they only room in, and they do all the tests and procedures on the baby right there in the room with you (again, with Clara we didn't see her for 3 hours after she was born, which made me highly anxious).  We moved down to the postpartum room by 1am, and Jordan left at 1:30.

Overall, my recovery has been so much easier than the first time.  SO.  MUCH.  EASIER.   I was up and moving around my room easily, and I felt secure caring for Lucy.  I won't lie, my body HAS felt some repercussions of having such a large baby.  Mostly I think I might have pulled a groin muscle while pushing, which as been uncomfortable, but it hasn't stopped me from being able to care for Clara and move around my house.

Really, I felt like my whole experience was better this time around, mostly because I felt like my nurses cared about my comfort and my doctor listened to my concerns.  I'm so grateful I have a healthy baby girl and no major physical issues coming out of labor and delivery.  Now, on to the baby weight... *sigh*