Birth Story Part III; The Final Part

...Today was the day. Today we were going to welcome our baby into this world. Our second baby.

{Part I here. Part II here}

Shortly after, my nurse came into the room and we talked about the epidural, breaking my water, and getting the ball rolling. Things were going to go fast everyone predicted, and we needed to have a gameplan. In other words.... pain control. Last time? There barely was enough time, and the time that I did have... I still felt everything at the end.

I felt like an empowering woman once {and still do}. I felt the pains of labor. I experienced what one may describe as a whirlwind of events mustered together so quickly that I'm surprised I even had a chance to blink. That. And as beautiful and amazing my first experience was, I wanted something slightly different {if I even had control over that}. I wanted to actually remember every detail and not focus on the pain. So although not for everyone, and although I wish I could sit here and tell you I had done it all natural... that's just not the case for me. And that is okay.

So the anesthesiologist was called and was in our room within 15 minutes. Andrew actually happened to go downstairs to get some food when he arrived {seems to be the trend with our labors}, and we quickly ran through the necessary details of what to expect.

One poke. Two poke. "He's trying to find the spot," the nurse explains. Three poke. Four. Five.

And finally, after what felt like forever, it was in. And the first loading dose of the medication was administered. My blood pressure hadn't dropped like it had with Elliana, and after the mandatory 10-15 minutes of monitoring me, the anesthesiologist wished me luck and was on his way. That would be the last time I would see him.

Or so I thought.

Twenty minutes later, I couldn't handle it anymore. I pressed the call light, which was the first for me since being there. It's the nurse in me you know, not wanting to be "pesty". And I asked to see my nurse. I was anxious. I was worried. I couldn't feel my legs, and I absolutely hated it. I felt like I was swelling up. I felt different. I couldn't feel anything. I needed something to change. Right away. It was the anxiety in that moment. I knew that. But at that point, it was truly all I could think about.

The nurse explained that all this was normal. I know this was normal. But it wasn't what I expected. I guess because the first time around we didn't have time for the medicine to kick in. I could turn, lift my legs, and feel all the contractions to push.

I wanted that again.

She went ahead and called the anesthesiologist. He came in. Wasn't too pleased with the situation it seems. Gave me a bit of the eye, if you know what I mean. Was shocked that I actually wanted to feel my labor. He said he already had me on the lowest dose. I thought to myself... well lets get lower. He must have heard me, because before I could even open my mouth... he did just that.

And within half an hour, I felt my legs. I could move my legs. I could feel every contraction from start to finish, but they didn't hurt. I just liked to know when they were happening. To me, it was the best of both worlds. And I finally could close my eyes and rest.

This was at about 11.

11:15 The doctor checks me. 6 CM.
1:15 The nurse checks me. 7 cm.

"Tell us when you feel more pressure."

30 minutes later. I felt more pressure. Intense pressure. I buzzed the nurse. The contractions were getting intense. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I didn't want my husband's kisses. I closed my eyes and I became lost in the pain.

1:45: Nurse checks me. 9 cm. 100% effaced. Full head of hair felt.

She called the doctor to give him the update. Things were all set up and ready to go. All we needed was that last bit of cervix to go away.

My doctor arrives around 2. He checks me. "Just a little cervix left." Let's wait a few more minutes.
We wait about 10. He checks me again. It's 2:10 now. "Still there," he says... "But I'm going to sit here  {doing the cervical exam} and wait through the contractions until it is fully gone.

And then he proceeds to say "He's posterior, that's why." That's why what doc. Why. Why. Why, what. Thats why that last bit of cervix was having difficulty going away. That's why I was feeling so much pain. That's why the doctor helped the little man along and just like that, his little head was flipped.

"Alright mama, you ready to push. It's time," exclaimed Dr. G. Time. For a moment it stopped. And the tears started. Because hearing those words... "it's time," made it that much more real.

The mirror came out again, and it is hands down my biggest motivator. There is nothing like watching your baby be born. Absolutely, nothing.

First contraction. One. Two. Three. "PUSH."  There he was. I could see him. My son, getting ready to enter this world.

After that first push, I could barely see anything anymore. My eyes were blurry from the tears. I could hear voices but unsure of what was being said. It all felt so surreal.

Next contraction. PUSH. And just like that his head started coming out. "STOP!" my doctor said. He needed to gown up. Him and the resident. They did just that....

Okay, third contraction: P-U-S-H.....

And just like that, at 2:20 in the afternoon, on December 26th, the day after Christmas, in the middle of the "snow storm of 2012" our son entered this world. Those lungs could then be heard all across the hospital, the most beautiful sound on earth. His tiny arms and legs were flinging in the air, searching for the voice that he listened to for the past 9 months. His eyes, wide open, all ready for us.

And the tears that had started just a few minutes prior were now dripping down my cheeks and onto his soft, sweet, innocent, perfect face.

My son.

I touched him as he lay on my chest. I kissed his little self. I whispered to him all the I love You's that I could mutter out of me in between the sobs.

He was absolutely perfect. He is absolutely perfect. I turned to the man that helped this happen. The man that is now the father of two, we kissed and just stared at each other in amazement.

 "We did it. We did it again."

We were now proud parents of two. A beautiful daughter, and a handsome little man. We couldn't have asked for a better day. Couldn't and wouldn't change a thing about this day. And we are so overly blessed and thankful that we were chosen us to be parents to these blessings in our life.

Happy Birthday Graham. Our hearts are so full because of you.

Birth Story Part TWO.

{part one here} Next thing I know, I'm sitting in the hospital's security vehicle, in the beginning of the snow storm... wondering... is this what I think this is..... 
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I close the door of the vehicle and wave goodbye to the nice gentleman. "Good luck miss! You picked a good day to have a baby!" he hollers. I knew he meant the snow storm. I knew he meant that it's safer I'm here than on the roads. But my mind went elsewhere. In that moment, all I could think about was what this day meant. Would this be the day I give birth to my son? Would I really truly hold him outside the womb, today? Is this the first day of a new life for me and my family?

Will December 26th, the day after Christmas, forever be a memory and celebration of our son's birth?

I walked through the hospital doors to find out.

Holding my belly, waddling my way to the front desk, a panicked, frazzled woman runs by me, grabs a wheelchair, looks at me, and says "Maybe you need one of these as well?" "No thanks, I reply."  I'm okay. Really.

But the woman that she had grabbed the wheelchair for? Clearly wasn't. She had those large chucks underneath her. She was moaning. She was begging for the front desk lady to hurry up and take her upstairs. "I'm about to have this baby right here, right now, if you don't hurry up I will push this baby out!" Now if that didn't get that lady's attention, I don't know what would have. Her eyes lit up like saucers and she just about stumbled over her own feet trying to run the my-water-broke-and-I'm-ten-centimeters-ready-to-push-lady upstairs in the wheelchair.

"I'll be back for you ma'am shortly" she yells out to me. I'm fine, I say, under my breath. Really.

And in that instance, I truly was. Because hearing that woman say she felt like she had to push? Well that just about stopped any kind of labor I had and made me, for a moment, want to run out the door. In a way... I wasn't sure if I was ready.

I felt like time was going by so slow. I talked to Andrew on the phone, who was on his way over, but it was brief and at the time I didn't know exactly what to think of all this. He, on the other hand, was a bit frantic. Unsure if "this was it." Trying to remember to grab all the bags. Five too many.  I imagine, probably trying to prep himself for what was to come.

And although I should have been focusing on whether or not it would be go-time, my mind could only go to my "to-do list." Do I have this done. Did I remember to pay this bill. Did I say all my I love you's ? Did I give enough kisses. Did I do this, or that, or .....

 Knock knock Becky!! You may be a mother-of-two today!

"Ma'am. Are you ready to go upstairs?" And just like that I snapped out of it. Yes, I am. Wheelchair? No thanks.

I was placed in the triage room where I was surprised to find the same nurse that delivered Elliana. I knew that if I were admitted though, she wouldn't still be here. For two reasons. Shift change was in less than an hour. And two, she's triage today. But regardless, I can't tell you how comforting it felt to finally see a familiar face that brought back memories of the best day of my life. The birth of my daughter.

She placed the sheet on me. We talked about the last birth. Checked my contractions. Remembered how fast everything went with Elliana. Cervical check time. Joked about how quick this one would be.

And the moment of truth.

I was hoping to hear 6cm. 7cm. 8cm. Anything, but,  "4-5." Which is just about where I was at my cervical check a week and a half prior. I felt a little beat down at that moment. Certain that this meant I was going home. In this storm? Absolutely not, I thought. There was no way I was going to be sent home in the biggest storm of the year. Another "false alarm?" How many more can we have?

But those weren't the words that I heard. My nurse came back with the biggest smile on her face, "You're staying!"

Immediately, tears filled my eyes.

I called Andrew right away, who was already on his way, and I still remember word for word what I said to him. "How does December 26th sound to have a son?"

He also was as surprised, and kept saying over and over again "Are you serious? Are you sure? Really?"

And just like that, I walked across the hall to the Labor & Delivery room, knowing that there were only a few hours left of me being pregnant. Just a few hours left of us being a family of three. Just a few hours left before our lives were about to change.

We didn't call anyone right away. Once Andrew arrived with our bags upon bags full of stuff, we decided to get situated and talk to the doctor about the plan of action before we even made a single phone call.

And then the conversation that Andrew and I hadn't had before started. The conversation on calling our families and whether or not we would have people in the room. Actually, I think it was a given that my family would be there. Andrew never thought otherwise. And if I was to be completely honest here, I never did either until that very moment. And in that moment? Something hit me. For whatever reason, I just wanted it to be Andrew and myself. Not because I didn't  want my mom and sister there. Not because I wasn't happy with my first birth experience where we had 5 people in the room. Not because I wanted to be selfish and have this moment to ourselves.

Okay, maybe that is the reason. In my heart, in that moment, I just wanted to share this experience with my husband, Andrew. The two people that made this bundle of joy. The two people to watch him come into this world. Just me and him.

And looking back? It was the best decision I ever did make.

So the phone calls were made. "We're staying! We're having a baby today." Texts were sent. Pictures were uploaded.

This was it. Today... we were having our baby. Our second baby. And there's no going back now.

Part III, the final part, tomorrow.

The Birth Story. Part One.

December 27th, 2012 7:27 AM

As I sit here in the hospital room on the couch in the corner, listening to all the commotion of the hospital unit while watching this amazing man that I married lay on the bed with our little blessing, I begin to think about what the last 24 hours {less than} has been like. It's all still so fresh in my mind. I can close my eyes and relive every second of the birth, every contraction, every push, and the beating of the little tiny heart inside of me on the monitor. I close my eyes and I can feel myself there again.

There's something to be said about birth stories. The experience. The beauty of it. Something so special, unique, and absolutely life changing. I don't think you ever forget the birth of your child and the details that you hold on to. Details that put all the little pieces of the story together.

So here I sit, I close my eyes and begin to tell you about the second most important day of our lives.

It all begins December 25th, 2012. Christmas night.

I had to work that night. There was a predicted "snow storm of 2012" coming our way. Predicted that the roads would be rough. Announcement made overhead that we would be on mandatory lock down and staff were not to leave until they were dismissed in the morning. Talks of 6-15 inches of snow. City warned to stay home unless you were an "essential employee." Which for us, the nursing was pretty essential. It's all anyone could talk about. What was to come.

The second topic of the night? The fact that I, miss pregnant mama over here, had not had this baby yet. Those that were very much so shocked that I was even there that night. Yet, here I was, working another night shift side by side with these gals. One even giggled at me during shift report and said "tomorrow would be the day."  I didn't believe it for a second. Not anymore. Not after being told "any day" and "any time" and "this is it."And to think? My due date hadn't even reached us yet.

The night started out smooth sailing. Wasn't busy, but definitely flying by. There was a pitch in from all the nurses there that night, so of course we made sure to stuff our faces with ham, pies, and all sorts of goodies. For some reason, I didn't have much of an appetite, so I stuck to just a few things. Sweets being my main choice for an entree.

As the night progressed and turned into early morning {December 26th}, I continued to have the usual braxton hicks contractions that were just coming along more often. At about 4am, probably the slowest time of the night, I had decided to go ahead and start walking around the nurses station. The nurses laughed at me. The doctors shook their heads when they walked by me doing my "laps". And everyone thought I had lost my mind. I had to work these contractions guys, I would say. "This baby is going to come before noon," I would joke.

At about 5am, we had a rapid response that flipped this night from slow and steady to fast and hectic. Because I looked like I could pop at any minute, as my dear friends would say, no one let me do much but be the "supply girl." Get this. Get that. Okay guys, I got this. Walking. My specialty of the evening.

Then I would feel a pain. Ouch. 5 minutes later, another pain. Well well, felt that one. Pain that now radiated to my bottom and caused me to stop in my tracks. Pressure. Lots of it. So much so, that I recall saying to myself and those around me... "Hmm... this is different." ... "It's like in my butt. Like someone stabbing my butt. Hole." I clearly had no shame.

Those men that work with us women? I feel for them. The things that come out of our mouths....No filter what so ever. Especially the pregnant woman's mouth.

So any who, by about 5:30 those pains were increasingly stronger and more frequent. Tolerable though. Definitely could still walk and talk through them. And if I'm going to be completely honest here...I didn't think much of them.

The attending doctor thought otherwise. I will never forget his words, "I've only birthed one baby in my entire career, and that was my daughter 26 years ago. I am definitely not changing that streak tonight." And so they sent me off on my way. Honestly, I don't think I had a choice. I tried to open up my mouth and mutter a few "but seriously guys I'm okay" words... but all they had to do was give me the look. Next thing I know one nurse is on the phone with the triage nurse across the street for labor and delivery. Another doctor is on the phone with security to have a car ready to take me across the street {although I insisted I still knew how to drive}. And another nurse is grabbing my arm to take me downstairs. All decisions were made within 2 minutes.

I tell you what. I work with some mighty strong-willed individuals.

Next thing I know, I'm sitting in the hospital's security vehicle, in the beginning of the snow storm... wondering... is this what I think this is.....