Marigold's Birth Story, Part 2

For part 1, click here.

The car ride was a short one. We chose a different doctor and a different hospital this time because we knew I wouldn't be able to handle a long ride in. And am I ever so glad we made that decision! 13 minutes door to door. I could handle that. And as it turns out, my body got the memo that car contractions are no fun, so it spaced them out and made them very mild for me for the whole ride in. Thanks, self!

We arrived around 2:05pm and walked straight in. We had a quick check-in at the main desk, where I had a few contractions and just paced and boosted my TENS unit and listened to my up-breathing through them. Since I had pre-registered, we were only there a few minutes, thank goodness.

The kind receptionist walked us back to our room at 2:15pm, room number 1505. We completely skipped triage, I think because my husband works at this hospital and they were pulling us some major faves. It was awesome. And as it turns out, necessary! More on that in a sec.

We got into the room and I stripped down to be checked. My first cervical check all pregnancy! I had no idea what to expect and even joked that I was probably just a few centimeters and even if that was the case, it would be totally fine. I was just going with my body's flow.

Wendy walked in around 2:30pm, just as our nurse, Mony, was about to check me. It took a few contractions to time it right. They were coming closer and closer and were definitely hard to sit through, so I waited until one just ended, hopped on the bed, and got ready for that cervical check, hoping it would be done before the next contraction hit.

You can imagine my shock when Mony announced, "8cm, 75% effaced, with bulging bag of waters." ALL THE SHOCK EYE EMOJIS.

8cm?! And I was still laughing and hanging out between contractions? I could barely believe it!!

John texted Dr. H, as it was still well before 4pm and we thought since I was so far progressed, there was a good chance baby would be arriving before she'd have to be at her birthday party. It's amazing what can happen when you surrender to God's will.

Wendy mentioned, "I think this is going to be fast once that water breaks!" And so we went to work getting the contractions to progress.

I found a cozy spot next to the bed and would just stand there chatting and sipping electrolyte water, waiting for contractions to start. As soon as they did, I'd announce it, turn on the contraction feature on my TENS, and then have John stand in front of me as I slow danced with him and sort of squatted into the intensity of the wave. At first, I was actually really tightening my legs closed because I did not like the sensation that squatting was causing. But Wendy reminded me that that sensation was the one that would get me progressing faster and closer to meeting my baby, so while I was so hesitant to squat much, I started to go for it. First little tiny squats, and then as contractions got more intense, bigger squats that came on with big moaning sounds that I couldn't control. I would breathe in for 4, and then MOOOAANNNNN out for 8. It was hard work, but it was working!

It was probably just 5 contractions like that, and then my water popped while I was squatting and moaning into a big one. It was approximately 3:02pm. I looked down and saw a few drips of blood mixed in and Wendy reassured me it was totally fine. She ran out of the room to alert the nurses. While she was out of the room, it felt like I was peeing everywhere, which I apologized to John for, but he said, "That's your water, babe!" Ha! That made more sense.

Dr. H still hadn't arrived, but soon the room filled with nurses and a resident doctor and a few assistants. They knew this thing was happening and fast.

At this point, all control went out the window and with the next contraction, I was just screaming and pushing. Not voluntary pushing, just straight up my-body-pushing-out-a-baby-on-its-own pushing. And I was still standing and leaning on John at this point. I recall thinking to myself that I should throw myself into another position, like hands and knees, but it was just too late. So I leaned hard into John and just kept screaming and involuntarily pushing. I felt the biggest pressure on my bum, which was insanely intense, but I knew that meant baby was making way into the birth canal, and fast!

Within seconds, I felt baby's head. I felt that familiar burn and at this moment, I stood as tall as a woman with a crowning baby could stand to slow things down. I remember saying, "ow ow ow ow" and sloppily breathing through it. It wasn't long before I felt the immediate relief of baby's head making its way completely out. I announced, "Head is out!" because at this point I was still standing and afraid no one was prepared to catch! Pretty sure half the room had their hands under me and at the ready at this point, but my eyes were closed so tight, I had no idea what was really going on around me.

Soon I felt the burn again as shoulders made their way through, and then immediate relief again. And as the rest of baby's body slid out and the resident caught baby, Dr. H walked into the room. She was able to witness the feet being born. :P

The nurse and Wendy helped passed baby up to me through my legs and announced baby's arrival as 3:04pm. From water breaking to birth was approximately 2 minute's time. And not a single voluntary push from me. Just insane.

I held baby close and walked over to sit on the bed. Sweet relaxation! Baby was still attached, so I was having trouble seeing between the legs to find out if we had a boy or a girl. I made my best effort and saw the umbilical cord, which made me think penis. So for a second I was thinking boy. But when I told the nurse I couldn't exactly tell, she peeked for me and said, YOU HAVE A GIRL! And John and I both exclaimed and giggled and just couldn't believe it!!

Me and baby girl relaxed back into the bed and started snuggling and getting to know each other. Once the cord stopped pulsing, John was able to cut it and I was able to pull baby girl all the way up into my arms. And then we spent the next hour doing skin-to-skin and attempting to get baby girl to latch. I even had the wherewithal to wish Dr. H a happy birthday! And she responded, "This is a fun birthday!" It was truly sweet of her to come in on her day off and birthday, no less, to welcome our little bundle!

After that golden hour, we weighed and measured our baby girl, and she shocked the whole room by being over 8lb. The official weight was 8lb 2 oz, and length was 21 inches. Our biggest baby yet!

The placenta took its sweet time to detach, about an hour, but it eventually did without pitocin and it was healthy looking and there in its entirety.

Dr. H sewed up my 2nd degree tear, which I continued to do my up-breathing through (srsly, why can they numb that area a little better??). I've come to accept that I may always tear a little, and that ok, as the perineum is designed to stretch and tear and repair quickly. Wendy even mentioned that red heads are more likely to tear for whatever reason, so it did make it easier to hear that and just accept it as my fate. Recovery is already off to a good start!

Soon the room cleared and we spent the next day snuggling our sweet girl, picking out her name, breastfeeding, announcing her arrival to loved ones . . . all the fun stuff!

In case you were wondering, yes I bought two swaddles sets. The boy set was blue striped, and the girl set had to be EXTRA girly with a big ol' bow and flowers galore. Naturally. We truly would have been thrilled either way, but what a special joy to find out you have a beautiful girl after two handsome boys!

We especially loved calling our families and announcing that we had a girl! My mom (who didn't even know I was in labor!!) was so excited and shocked when we called her with the big news. She passed the news along to my dad who was equally excited! And John's mom and sister screamed through the phone in excitement. My SIL, who was with my boys, showed them a picture of their sister and they registered her for about a half a second before returning to their toys. I assure you they've shown more excitement since then. ;)

For instance . . .

I've never seen them want to kiss or love on someone so much! It's just too dang cute!

I must admit, in all the chaos of a quick ride to the hospital and baby girl arriving within 1 hour of our check-in, I didn't even have time to take out my prayer intentions for labor. So I've been offering up the discomforts of recovery for all of you! And of course, I think God knew my labor was intended for you all as well. Thank you, again, for trusting me with your intentions!

And so ends the tale of Miss Margo's grand arrival! In the weeks leading up to her birth, we prayed for a joyful, peaceful, safe delivery. I would say it truly was all of those things, plus a little crazy there too. :) I wouldn't have it any other way.

Welcome to the family, Marigold Claire! We're so thrilled to have you!

Marigold's Birth Story, Part 1

Our sweet baby GIRL has arrived! If you didn't see the announcement, head here. And now I present to you, her birth story!

In the week's leading up to baby's arrival, so many people asked me if I was feeling ready. Which is such a difficult question to answer, because who's really ready for the newborn phase? Whew! But it's true that usually by the end, I'm just ready to get the show on the road.

However, this time around, we were taking the last precious weeks to enjoy being just a family of four and get house projects done and so I was really at peace with waiting on baby to make his or her arrival whenever pleased. It was honestly the most relaxed end of pregnancy ever.

I didn't even let my OB do cervical checks at my appointments because, "why care about a number anyway?" I'd tell her. She just smiled and went along with it. And when my visit to a chiropractor at 38 weeks pregnant revealed baby to be in perfect position with my body in nearly perfect alignment, and the chiropractor told me she though for SURE I'd go into labor early, like so soon, I just shrugged it off with a meh and put it out of my mind.

It felt good not to be caught up in making things happen at any specific pace.

It probably helped that we also ate like royalty for the last week or so. You never know when you're gonna have your last family-of-four meal, so might as well eat out every night! That's a saying, right? :P

Lenten fish fries (3 times!).
Drive thru fries and soft drinks.
Piled-high BBQ tator tots.
Buffalo chicken nachos.
Large veggie deli sandwiches.
Fro-yo with all the toppings.
And this crowning glory. . .

At 39 weeks and 6 days pregnant, we treated ourselves to the biggest banana split in town. Oh mama was it good.

But you didn't come here to read about my junk food diet, did ya?

We went to bed that night with super happy full tummies and no idea of what would be in store the following day.

I woke around 8am on my due date, a Sunday morning, and noticed the tiniest bit of spotting when wiping during my morning pee-stop. Since bleeding is always a trigger for me (hello previous miscarriage and infertility!), I reached out to my doula immediately and asked her if that was normal. She said, "Oh yes!" and agreed that this was a sign baby was probably starting to make moves. By 8:30am I noticed I was probably having a few contractions, and that I guess I had actually felt some crampy ones during the night but wasn't really with it enough to realize what was going on until now. This was surely a good sign that things were really happening!

While we sat down to breakfast, John received a text from my OB, Dr. H. She had taken me as a private patient and had basically guaranteed, barring a random emergency or coincidence, that she would be there to deliver my baby. We loved working with her during the pregnancy, she was totally on board with the birth plan, and we were excited to have her there for baby's arrival. But of course, with my luck for these sorts of things, on the morning I start to feel contractions, she texts to say that it's her birthday and she will be at a family party from 4-10pm, not able to deliver during that time. My heart sank. Now I was on some sort of weird clock, where I could either deliver before 4pm, after 10pm, or just take whoever showed up to deliver me between those hours . . . with no actual control over any of it. So we did the only thing we could do and just surrendered to God's will and did our best to put it out of our minds.

Since the contractions were super mild and very random with no discernible pattern, we decided to go to Mass at 10am. Which, thinking about it now, was a GREAT way to start labor. Oh the graces I'm sure I received. :)

During Mass, I probably had 3 mild contractions, and while hanging out with friends for about an hour after, probably 3 or so more. Nothing too serious, and the company of God and friends was a great distraction!

We decided to get drive through food for lunch, Pal's turkey sandwiches, fries, hot dogs, and a peachy Dr. Enuf. If that sounds like gibberish, it's because you're not from east Tennessee. But trust me, it was goooood. (Side note, if you're ever in east Tennessee, please go to Pal's -- it's an institution here.)

By the time lunch ended, contractions were starting to pick up. Not enough to head to the hospital yet, but enough to know this was probably the real thing. This was around 1pm. I texted Wendy with the following screen shot and let her know if contractions continued in this pattern, we'd be headed to the hospital within the hour.

Freya, the contraction timer app

I put John on boy-nap duty and sent him upstairs to get the boys sleeping. Before they went up, I hugged them both so close and said a most tearful goodbye. I'm not a weepy, emotional person typically, but knowing that I probably wasn't going to see them again without a new baby sibling, AKA a huge family change, made me tear up.

They headed up the stairs and I got to work putting together the rest of the hospital bag and getting things ready to load up in the car.

It didn't take long for contractions to get real serious. Perhaps it was being on my feet and moving a bunch of stuff around, or maybe it was knowing the boys were taken care of and I could let go of that responsibility, but something put my body into gear.

My contraction timer app, Freya, has the option to play a breathing technique called up-breathing (breathe in through your nose for 4 seconds, out through your mouth for 8 seconds), and I had turned it off until this point. It hadn't been necessary. But now, as contractions were getting stronger, I needed to be sure my oxygen was still flowing well, so I turned on the feature. And it was immeasurably helpful at keeping me calm!

At 1:32pm, I texted my mother-in-law to let her know to head our way to watch our boys, and I texted my friend and neighbor, Sarah, to have her swing by too. I wasn't sure how long my MIL was going to take; she took an hour to get to our house during Jude's birth and I knew I didn't have that amount of time this time around, so calling in extra back-up helped put me at ease too.

John still had to pack his hospital bag, so I labored through some longer and stronger contractions (about 1.5 minutes long each and 3 minutes apart) while he scrambled to throw his things together. I listened to the up-breathing counter on the app and walked loops around my family room, kitchen, and sun room. He finally emerged from the second floor and then furiously started bring our stuff out to the car. During this time, I had two contractions right on top of each other and knew it was really time to go.

Sarah arrived and, to our surprise, within two minutes, my MIL arrived too! So we were set to take off! Praise God for good people who are willing to watch your kiddos on the drop of a dime.

I had John put a maternity TENS unit on my back to help me get through these more intense contractions. I was especially hoping the TENS unit would help with contractions while stuck in a seated position in the car.

(Side note, if you've never heard of TENS before, it stands for Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation, and it does exactly that -- it delivers a small shock to your skin and that pulse helps the body release endorphins and distract your brain from bigger pains that are going on in your body. Since I had taken a British Hypnobirthing course (online), and maternity TENS units are big over there, I decided to look into it and try it out for this labor. Spoiler alert: it was awesome!)

At 1:52pm, we texted Wendy, our doula, that we were headed to the hospital. And then we were off!

For part 2, click here.

Jude's Birth Story, Part 3

For part 2, click here. 

I was not, in fact, pushing the baby out. Thank you very much for your concern tho, Mrs. Nurse Lady. Happy to keep ya on your toes.

Once I, ahem, wrapped up that awkward moment, I walked over to the bed and climbed up to be checked. I think the nurses were trying to get in touch with my OB at that point, as he still wasn't at the hospital, but it was clear this baby was getting close to his moment of debut. So the on-call family medicine resident checked me again. You remember him, right? Mr. Conservative-At-Rating-Dilation. Thankfully this time he gave it to us straight.

At 3:11am, he announced: "Fully dilated with bulging bag."

Woohoo! From 6-ish cm to 10cm in less than two hours? I'll take it!

Not even a second after the doc said "bulging bag" . . . POP! My water broke.

I was lying on my back from the check, but was determined to push in any position but that one. Back pushing = working against gravity and pushing for longer and higher likelihood of tearing. I had stressed this to John and my doula for months leading up to the birth, so they knew it was time help me move. I think I even exclaimed, "I really don't want to push on my back!" just to remind them. So they helped me climb up and lean myself over the back of the bed. Even though I was exhausted, I had the option of resting all my weight against the bed, yet I was still completely upright. It seemed like a smart move.

Except as soon as I got upright, I started to feel like my entire body was splitting in half. The pain was so overwhelming, but with some heavy breathing and super loud moans and shouts of "THIS HURTS SO BAD!" I made it through.

In those first few seconds in that upright position, I was worried the position itself was causing all the pain. But in reality, it was baby rushing his way through the birth canal. I wasn't even pushing! But he was ready. Making his way out, and fast! And it was shocking everyone in the room.

There was no time for my OB to arrive, so suddenly there were 2 on-call family medicine docs in the room. Mr. Conservative and some 3rd year resident. They very clearly did not read my birth plan (womp wommmmp), so they kept asking me about things -- in the middle of delivering a baby no less -- that they should have already known the answer to.

So Dr. 3rd Year has the ballz to ask me, "Can you turn around please?" as I'm just getting myself situated in the upright-against-the-back-of-the-bed position. Umm. SAY WHAT?! This baby is about to be crowning and you're asking me to turn around so that you can deliver him more easily? Shyeah. How 'bout no.

Then he's all awkwardly putting his hands and some blue sheet under me to catch everything, while my doula is desperately trying to massage my perineum to help avoid tearing (something I had requested). But she can't get in there because Dr. 3rd Year is being all sloppy.

Meanwhile, I basically have no idea what's going on because BABY IS COMING and suddenly crowing and suddenly halfway out and I seriously don't remember having to push at all. That upright position, you guys. AMAZENESS.

Next thing I know, Dr. 3rd Year is asking me to stop pushing and I don't exactly know why in the moment, but later find out it's because baby has the cord wrapped around his torso. My doula and the nurses kept telling him to deliver the baby through the cord, but Dr. 3rd Year kept trying to unwrap the cord. And kept telling me to stop pushing. Sorry, dude, but if I had any control over this birth train, I would.

Eventually he got the memo to stop trying to remove the cord and instead birth baby through it, and suddenly baby was crying before he was even completely out! What a beautiful, wonderful sound!

Our baby boy arrived at 3:17am on January 30th, exactly 5 minutes after I got upright and didn't even push once. Wowz.

We still didn't know the gender, and I was facing the wall, so I couldn't see. And for a few seconds after we heard that sweet cry, John couldn't see either. So many people in the way. But as soon as he got a glimpse, he excitedly said, "It's a boy!" And I smiled. Because secretly I just knew baby was going to be a boy. And it was a joy to finally confirm it!

Wendy encouraged Dr. 3rd Year to pass the baby through my legs to me, since I was still facing the wall and hadn't gotten a peek yet. And the first thing (I think) I said when I saw him was, "He's so beautiful!" Which then quickly followed with, "He has hair!!!!" The amount of hair and dark coloring totally shocked me. It was adorable.

With placenta not birthed yet and baby still attached, I somehow figured out a way to turn my body around and finally sink down into the bed. Ahhhh! Sweet relaxation!

I was completely naked, so we easily snuggled up skin-to-skin and tried to establish breastfeeding while we waited for the cord to stop pulsing and the placenta to be birthed.

Dr. 3rd Year and Mr. Conservative seemed a little clueless about delayed cord clamping, asking if it was ready yet. Wendy gently encouraged them to keep waiting until there was no more pulsing. Thankfully they did, and then John got to cut the cord.

Then the placenta was taking its sweet time making its way out. Which can be totally normal. Except Dr. 3rd Year wasn't used to it. So again, he asks a question that he would have known the answer to had he read my birth plan: "Can we give you pitocin?" I just simply replied, "No pitocin please." Man, these docs are in such a rush to get the show on the road sometimes.

(To their credit, my birth was a bit of a rush, especially toward the end there, so I don't really blame them for not reading my birth plan. Nobody really knew my OB wasn't going to be there until the final few minutes. All the issues ended up being very minor and really just annoyances more than anything. The experience would have been a teeny bit more enjoyable had it been with my doc, but no big deal in the grand scheme of things.)

Sure enough, with a few extra minutes of waiting around, the placenta showed up on its own and all was well. Wendy remarked on how small my placenta was, which doesn't necessarily mean anything, but figured it's worth remembering. Just an odd little detail there.

A few minutes later and my OB finally arrived! Just in time to stitch me up. I ended up tearing again, somewhere between a 2nd and 3rd degree, just like John Paul's birth. I asked Wendy if it was because he came out too quickly, but she said no. And my OB chimed in and said usually you tear along the same line as the first birth since that's a weak point in the perineum. So there's that.

We spent a little over an hour snuggling skin-to-skin and it was blissful. Baby boy didn't quite figure out latching in that time because he was mostly interested in crying . . . a lot. It was such a sweet cry, though. And if I had to guess, probably related to the shock of flying out of his comfort zone so quickly. ;)

After all those great snuggles, we were happy to finally let the nursery staff weigh our little buddy and check his vitals and all that.

We had a feeling he was going to be a little smaller than John Paul just based on how he felt in my arms. John and I both guessed 7lb 6oz, and we were super close! 7lb 8oz, a whole 7oz less than John Paul was!

They took care of him quickly, and then it was back to mama and baby snuggles, and continuing trying to establish breastfeeding. It took him a while to latch for the first time, maybe 2 hours? But he's been a nursing champ ever since!

The next 36 hours in the hospital were spent snuggling up with our little man, napping when we could, enjoying a visit from the in-laws and our sweet John Paulie (who was so excited to meet his little brother!!), and wavering back and forth between two names.

Our little Jude wasn't officially named until a few hours before leaving the hospital. In fact, the whole first day of his life, we practiced calling him by our other favorite name, Blaise, and really thought that was going to be it! . . . until one of the nurses thought we were naming him Blaze. And then we just didn't feel like we could go through with it. Maybe next time though ;), if we're so blessed.

And there you have it! Jude Francis's birth story. It really was perfect in its own special way.

Welcome to the family, little bud. We love you with all that we have and can't wait to see where this life adventure takes you.

All praise be to God!

Jude's Birth Story, Part 2

For part 1, click here.

In triage, everything looked great! All my vitals were good, baby sounded great, and contractions kept progressing. I really needed to squat and slow dance with John to get through them, which I took as a really good sign of my progress.

So I was a little shocked when the doc (the on-call family medicine resident) finally checked me and said I was 4-5cm, 80% effaced, and baby was at a -1.

What?! For reals? I was definitely feeling around the same level of pain I had when I was around 6cm with John Paul, but I was possibly just a 4? And no progress at all with cervical effacement? Eep! Did this mean we were in for a lonnnnngggg night of labor?

But once the the doc and nurses left the room, my doula and husband both assured me that they thought he was wrong. And probably just being . . . conservative. Why? No idea. Perhaps because he was still a bit of a newb at the whole labor and deliv thing, being a first-year resident and all. But based on the length of my contractions and the level of pain I was experiencing, we all thought I was probably more like a 6. Phew!

From there, we all walked a few feet over to the delivery room: room number 2071. It was around 2am when we settled in, and I immediately changed into my L&D dress, the same dress I had worn for John Paul's delivery. I don't actually have any pics of me in it from this delivery, since I only wore it for approximately 2 seconds. But here's a pic of it from John Paul's labor . . .

Snaps all the way down the back and front for easy monitoring, and snaps at the shoulders for easy access to the bubs for breastfeeding. Pretty floral design for enjoyment. Much cooler than your average hospital gown.

So why was it only on for a few seconds, you ask? Right after I put it on, Wendy filled up the bath tub and recommended I hop in soon, since we were at a good point for tub laboring. So off it went!

I grabbed my bikini out of my hospital bag, but my rib cage has probably grown a bunch of sizes since I last wore it, so it didn't fit. Eep. So naked bathing it was! I was a little embarrassed by my complete nudity, so I knew I wasn't in the 8-10cm stage of labor yet. You know you're there when all modesty goes out the window.

Wendy found a mini towel I could wear over my upper parts, so that made me feel a bit more comfortable. Modesty restored!

Just like John Paul's birth, we lit LED candles and listened to Tibetan monk chant music while in the tub. It was so peaceful. Aside from all the painful contractions that is.

John stayed by my side the whole time, letting me squeeze his hand through each contraction, telling me I was doing such a great job, all that cheesy sort of stuff. But I needed it. The positive, gentle encouragement was my lifeline. Words of praise for the win!

While the water definitely slowed the contractions down just a little and made them a tiny bit more comfortable, they were getting more intense by the minute. Pretty soon, the moaning started.

Before giving birth to John Paul, I thought moaning was the most embarrassing thing ever. I would hear moms do it while watching birth videos and think, yikes! That's awkward. But during the really painful parts of labor, there's nothing better than letting it all out through your vocal chords.

Wendy kept encouraging me to relax all my muscles, so that I wasn't fighting against the contractions, and to keep the moaning at a low pitch, since that also helps keep things relaxed. When you moan in a higher register, you're tightening things up everywhere and essentially fighting against your cervix. Weird but true. So I tried to keep things low.

Actually, the moaning almost sounded like it was part of the Tibetan monk soundtrack. I joked at one point that it was like a sing-a-long in the tub. Or maybe John made that joke. I was quite in the zone at that point, so the details get hazy.

Pretty soon, it was getting reeeally really hard to keep the moans in the lower register. And I was squirming in pain all over the tub through every contraction. The pain was getting rough. Like probably 9-out-of-10-on-the-pain-scale rough. I even started to think to myself, "If this goes on much longer, I don't think I can do it." Contractions were long and painful and I was only getting like 1 to 2 minutes between each one.

At that moment, my body thankfully decided to take a break. A nice 4 minute break, or something like that. It was seriously glorious. No contraction for 4 minutes. Heck freaking yes.

But! IT'S A TRAP! Following the break, I had 3 HUGE contractions right on top of each other. Bam, baaaaam, BAMMMMMM. So much squirming and moaning and hand squeezing ensued.

I made it through, but after that, I was pretty much exhausted. It really was hurting quite nicely and if I was due up for another triple-traction soon, I didn't think I was going to make it.

I recall turning to Wendy at that point and saying, "Do you think I'm getting close? I really don't think I can do this much longer." And, thank God Almighty, in that moment she responded with the sweetest thing a laboring girl could ever hope to hear:

"You are so close. You're gonna have this baby in your arms very soon."

Amen, sister. Amen.

When the next contraction hit, I started feeling the urge to push. Which brought me right back to John Paul's birth, when I was in the tub and felt the urge to push, but was only 8cm dilated. Eep! If you push when you're not fully dilated, you can really hurt your cervix, so I was scared that's what was happening again. And I didn't want to get out of the tub to get checked yet because getting out at that point was going to require a huge effort on my part that I didn't want to do if I still had a few more centimeters to go. If the contractions were that rough in the tub, I didn't even want to think of how bad they'd be out of the tub.

We decided to use the ol' "blow through the contractions" trick, where you blow a brrrrrrrrrrr sound like a horse. For whatever reason, blowing like that helps you to stop yourself from pushing. Which sounds weird, right? Can't you just not push? But no. You can't just not push. Trust me. When your body wants to, it just does it. So you really of have to fight against it to stop it when your cervix isn't ready yet. I brrrrrrrrrrrrrrr'd my way through the next contraction and all was well.

And then Wendy advised me to hop on out of the tub. She thought my body was trying to push because I actually was at 10cm! And since she's seen about a bazillion labors, I trusted her. So at around 3am, she and John helped me up, and I started to make my way back to the bed to be checked.

But not a step away from the tub, I suddenly had the intense urge to have a bowel movement. I think I may have shouted, "I NEED TO POOP." Gah! So embarrassing to think about now. But like I said before, all modesty goes out the window when you're in that 8-10cm zone.

I immediately plopped down on the toilet and started pushing.

And then the nurse immediately started freaking out.

She shouted, "IS THE BABY COMING OUT?! ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE NOT PUSHING OUT THE BABY?!!!!!"

For part 3, click here.

Jude's Birth Story, Part 1

In case you missed it, our sweet baby boy, Jude Francis, arrived on January 30th! Yay baby!! And now I present to you, his birth story. For your reading pleasure and for my memory preservation. ;) 

Baby Schweitz was due January 28th.

As you may recall, we were doing everything possible to naturally induce labor, so that my wonderful OB could attend Baby Schweitz's birth before he left for St. Lucia on February 1st.

In addition to all the pitted dates and red raspberry leaf tea and borage oil pills and neighborhood walks and eggplant parm and sex . . .

On January 23rd, I got my membranes stripped. Ummm. Yeah. OUCH. Doc gets his fingers all up in your business and SWOOP, runs his fingers along your cervix to separate it from the placenta. Not fun. But a low risk way to naturally induce if baby is ready. So we did it. It obvi didn't work, but it caused me to lose my mucus plug. And doc checked me and discovered I was already 3cm dilated AND 80-90% effaced. At the very least, we were pretty pleased to hear that!

On January 24th and 26th, I went to the chiropractor to get aligned for labor. I wasn't expecting this to  really induce, and it didn't, but I was happy to be lining up all my bones and such to make an easier escape route for baby. And I think it actually helped!

On January 27th, I went all hippy and tried acupuncture. When booking the appointment, the receptionist claimed the last 3 pregnant mommas they treated had their babies in their arms by the next morning. SAY WHAT?! Sign me up! First, the acupuncturist burned a moxa stick over my lower back for about 5 minutes. Then, she put needles in 15 different points all over my body and left them in for about 45 minutes, popping in my room every once in a while to wiggle them around and activate the points. Each needle and point had a different purpose: one in my forehead to calm me, two in my legs for cervical dilation, two in my feet for pain management, and so on. Every point used was specifically related to labor and delivery, so if my body and baby were ready, it would have sent me into labor. Throughout the procedure, I felt one Braxton Hicks contraction, but that was it. Nothing the rest of the day, nor the next day. So I'm not sure it worked. But it definitely was relaxing!

On January 28th (THE DUE DATE!), I drank a hyper concentrated version of my red raspberry leaf tea. It was bitter and so so so strong. I had been drinking red raspberry leaf tea pretty much daily for my entire 3rd trimester, to tone up the uterine muscles for labor, but this hyper brew, called Labor Day Tea, was supposed to get things going if body and baby were ready. It may have helped, as I started to feel contractions less than 24 hours later, but who knows, right?

Also on January 28th, I was starting to get antsy about castor oil, which was basically the last natural thing I had left to try to induce labor. My plan was to drink it on January 30th if baby still wasn't making moves. But I was so nervous about how sick I would feel. Was it going to make labor even more painful? Was I going to have continuous castor oil diarrhea and great bowel discomfort while also going through labor contractions? Ick! It didn't sound fun. But of course I was also desperate to deliver with my OB, so I was pretty determined to try.

While listing all my worries to my dear husband, he says, "Well, why don't I try it first? And that way if it's terrible, we'll know and we won't have you do it." Ummm, prince charming, much? He's seriously a doll. So as mean as it may have been, I took him up on his offer and he drank the crazy castor oil concoction and, well, paid the consequences.

4 oz castor oil + 2 oz vodka + 6 oz orange juice.

CHUG IT.

He said it tasted like an oily screw driver. Yum, right?

It went down so easy and then for 8 hours after, absolutely nothing happened. And all was right with the world.

But then, it hit him ALL at once. Poor poor guy. Through the entire night, he was in and out of the bathroom, clearing out his system, one gush of fluid at a time. Oof.

He was pretty much recovered by the next morning, a little less than 24 hours from that gross dose of castor oil. In summary, he said it was rough, but not so rough that he thought I'd need to avoid it. But he wasn't going to be trying it again any time soon. I also ran it by my doula, who said it would work a little differently on a pregnant woman, more like a natural prostaglandin, and labor would start after I was entirely cleared out. That all made me feel a little better.

So by the afternoon of January 29th, with John fully recovered from all the castor crazy, and me still definitely pregnant, we decided I would, in fact, try the castor oil bright and early the next morning.

Except God laughs.

Not even a few hours after making that decision, right around 3pm, I had my first contraction.

Lolololololol. Sorry, John!

But seriously, PRAISE THE LORD! Castor oil avoided.

The contractions started off super mild, actually without pain at all, just tightening in my belly. But predictable tightening. They lasted a bunch of seconds and happened every few minutes to every 20 or so minutes. I know, not very specific. But I could tell things were progressing. They weren't just your average, run of the mill Braxton Hickses.

We were due over to John's parent's house for Sunday night dinner (which we do every Sunday night) just an hour after contractions started, but with them being so mild, we decided to go anyway and just not tell anyone, cuz I'm pretty private like that.

Turns out, dinner was a lovely distraction and we got through the whole affair without anyone knowing what was going on.  Win win.

Upon arriving home, around 8pm, we put John Paul to bed and decided to play a board game, to keep the distractions going. Contractions were getting a tiny bit stronger and longer and closer together, but still nothing serious. We stood through the whole game to keep me in a good position to keep the labor progressing and it definitely helped. Oh, and in case you were curious, our game of choice was Forbidden Desert, a co-op game that we love and that night we totally won. Boom. Labor luck.

The game ended around 9:00pm, and we still weren't exactly tired, so we decided to rent a movie: The Girl on the Train. The more distractions you have going during early labor, the better. And this was yet another good distraction.

During the movie, contractions started to get just a tiny bit painful, longer, and closer together. They were coming every 2-4 minutes and lasting about 30 seconds. Progress! I bounced on an exercise ball and it was honestly way comfier than I was expecting. Great labor tool, as it turns out!

By the time the movie ended, around 11pm, we decided it was time to call my doula and make a plan. She suggested trying to sleep for a while while things were still low-pain. If we were about to labor through the night, getting in just a few extra hours of shut eye was going to be super helpful. She figured once they were painful enough to wake me up, it'd be time to get things into gear for our trip to the hospital. So up to bed we went.

But sleep didn't happen. Within 10 minutes of lying in bed, the contractions really picked up. They went from a 2 out of 10 on the pain scale to a 4. While that doesn't sound like much, it was enough to make me anxious to get a move on. We still had to alert the in-laws so they could drive over and watch John Paul and we had a 40 minute drive ahead of us to the hospital. Plus, I knew I had been 3cm and 80-90% effaced before any contractions had started, so I didn't want to suddenly be in a HOLY MOLEY THIS BABY IS COMING OUT situation while driving because we decided to wait too long.

Contractions got even more intense while we waited on my MIL to arrive, so I was happy with our decision. We slow danced through the contractions and I squatted by hanging on John to work with the contractions and keep baby low.   

One last pic of the belly . . .

And by 12:45am, we were off. And in the snow! We've barely had an inch or two all winter, and the night our baby decides to make moves, snow is sticking to the roads. Perhaps, even with all that natural induction stuff, all I really needed was a change in barometric pressure to kick things in the gear. We may never know. ;)

Labor in the car got even more intense. I prayed for everyone's intentions between contractions, each followed with a Hail Mary to our sweet Heavenly Momma. And when a contraction hit, I'd pause and squeeeeeeeze John's hand. All while he prayed along and navigated the snowy roads. Seriously, I married super dad, folks.

After what felt like an eternity, (because seriously, car contractions are the woorrrsttttt!) we finally arrived around 1:30am. Wendy, our doula, met us at the doors of the L&D unit, and we all walked up to the nurses' station together. A little oversight on our part . . . we forgot to do all the pre-registration stuff, so between my contractions, I filled out a pile of who-knows-what paperwork as quickly as humanly possible and then we were moved into the triage area so they could check my vitals and my cervical dilation.

For part 2, click here.

Final Thoughts on Birth

If you missed my 4-part birth story, you can catch the whole she-bang starting here.

But if you've already read the saga, I'd like to wrap up by throwing just a few more things about my birth experience out there.

First, I know I possibly came off a little wonky when I posted all that shtuff about how we prepped for natural labor and delivery. But in hindsight, I'm SO GLAD we did all that prep and shtuff. While choosing a very pro-natural-birth obstetrician made it pretty unlikely I'd end up having an unnecessary c-section, I'm still glad I went into the whole thing with lots of knowledge on my side. It was comforting to know what to expect through the whole experience. So I'm glad I researched my butt off beforehand. Even though it made me a birth nerd/annoying know-it-all.

I'm still a little shocked by how fast my labor went. Sure, a 12-hour labor is no walk in the park, but it was still a bit shorter than the first-time-mom labor average, which is 16 hours. And I know from reading other birth stories that they can go wayyyy way longer than that. Going into it, I knew my mom and sister had short labors, so I was hoping I'd caught that gene. Turns out I did! Maybe it's the wide-birth-canal gene? We may never know.

My mom and sis were also pros at laboring without any pain meds. So maybe I got that from them too. All I know is that if my labor had been one of those insanely long ones, I'm almost certain I couldn't have done it without drugs. But by the time the pain got really intense, I only had a few hours left, so that made it very doable.

I never once asked for pain meds. Actually, there wasn't even a single moment where I thought... "I could really use some pain meds right now." Again, thank you short labor! And I suppose I should also thank my very supportive husband, our awesome doula, our cooperative baby, and all the other things that made a drug-free labor doable.

Don't get me wrong... I'm pretty proud of myself for doing it drug free. It was very painful at times. And the pain was ongoing for 12 hours. And you never quite know when the end is coming. So yeah, I'm proud. All my hard prep work and determination paid off!

And I'm happy. I'm pretty sure being able to feel the pain helped me progress faster. Being able to stand and walk around helped too. And laboring in the tub. All things I couldn't have done with an epidural. Plus, I was pretty bad at pushing even when I could feel what I was doing. Can you imagine how long I would have been pushing for if I hadn't been able to feel it? The answer is WAY longer, because I would have been pushing wrong the whole time.

A few folks have asked me, "On a scale of one to ten, how bad was the pain?" Which is actually quite difficult to answer. The contractions start off as a one, really. And then gradually work their way up. But it's not exactly excruciating pain. It's more just uncomfortable pain. You know how sometimes a really big gas bubble can hurt and there's really no position you can get in to make it better? You just have to ride it out. That's how the really intense contractions were. Just extremely uncomfortable. And my body was shaking uncontrollably, which again, was just uncomfortable. So maybe I'd call the absolute worse of them a nine? But you also get breaks in between each one. So, as long as I kept reminding myself the labor would eventually end, and also, before it did end, I'd get breaks between the contractions, the uncomfortableness and the intensity were very manageable. I guess what I'm trying to say is, labor is hard to rate on the "one to ten" pain scale.

In addition to fast laboring being in my genes, I think trying my very best to remain calm and relaxed really did help labor progress quickly. Relaxing my mind and my body relaxed my cervix. And going into it with all that preparation helped me to be relaxed since I knew, mostly, what to expect. The tub helped with relaxation too.

Also, John Paul being super low and sitting on my rectum (OW!) helped. That was just pure luck, methinks.

Oh, and you know what else helped? Basically not telling many people our due date. This way, we didn't have a bajillion people asking, "Where's that baby?" and stressing me out leading up to the due date. I even put a false due date on our registry. Is that sorta crazy? Actually, I don't even care. It kept the pesters away.

We also kept my state-of-health super hush. When I saw the bloody show, I barely told a soul. When contractions started a day before I actually went into labor, again, hush hush. When contractions started for reals and a family member called to ask what was up, we told them nothing of my progressing labor. (We sorta felt bad for lying, but, gosh darn, I wanted my privacy!) It wasn't until I was 5cm dilated, checking into the hospital that we decided to tell family. Ahh, and it was SO calming to do it that way.

Someone we did keep in the labor loop was our doula! First, she was a great help when I was confused about my bloody show and then again when we were confused about when we should leave for the hospital. And second, who else is she gonna tell? She's not related to us and isn't in any of our social circles, so we knew our secret was safe with her.

Let me just say, I'm so glad we hired a doula. She actually wasn't even with us for very long during the labor. We decided to just have her meet us at the hospital since we were doing a great job of laboring at home by ourselves. All told, she was with us for only about 6 hours. But her presence was exactly what we needed. I would have been so embarrassed to make all those noises and be all naked and stuff in front of someone that I knew (like my mom or MIL or sister), but pffffft, it didn't bother me one bit with our doula. That definitely helped me relax even more. And helped John relax too. Plus, she was a great help in the weeks leading up to the delivery AND she stopped in for a visit a week after the delivery and gave us this super cute wall art.

So yeah, I'd definitely recommend a doula to anyone. I will say that our personalities weren't an exact match. She was more tough love and let's get this done and I would have probably preferred someone who showered me with only compliments and encouragement during labor, but that didn't even matter. She rocked and I'm so glad she was with us.

I'm gonna be real here for a second. Tearing sucked. I feel like I tried my best, but still ended up tearing to a 2nd degree. Ok, so I maybe shouldn't have pushed him out while I was on my back. I had the option to squat or get on all fours or even stand, but I was too tired and went for the more tradition pushing position. Ah well! Anyway, I really didn't feel it when it happened. I did feel pain every once in a while when I was being stitched up and the doc would hit a spot that wasn't numbed. OUCH. And then it took a few days to feel comfortable sitting down. But now, it really doesn't hurt at all. And I probably shouldn't have been so nervous about it.

The days after delivering were not what I had expected. Here's the prob. As soon as John Paul was born, we gave our in-laws the OK to start driving to Memphis to see us. It was an 8-hour drive so we thought that would give us plenty of time to settle after the birth, hopefully nap a little, bond with our babe, and so on. What we didn't think about was how they were going to stay in town for 2 more days and want to be with us every possible moment. Which makes so much sense. They travelled far to meet their grandson. What else were they going to want to do? But this overwhelmed introverted little me a ton. In my opinion, just a few hours after birth alone with John and John Paul were not enough. I wish we'd had those first few days just the three of us. To establish nursing in private. To ride out my post partum hormones and emotions in private. (There was a lot of crying.) To bond with our baby in private. Basically, I wanted to be able to walk around my apartment with boobs out and not a care in the world. You can't do that when your in-laws are there during most of the waking hours. Oh well. I'd do it over if I could, but I can't. At least they got some early bonding time with our little man.

And then there was breastfeeding, which honestly needs a whole post of its own. But basically, it was way more challenging than I was expecting. For all the research I did on labor before he was born, you'd think I'd have been smart enough to read a nursing book. But nahhhh! I was convinced it would be easy and natural, a piece of cake. But as it turns out, John Paul and I were both newbs and needed a lot of help. And we're still not pros. But it's definitely gotten better!

That's probably all you ever wanted to know and more about my birth experience. At the very least, this is just a good way for me to document so that if -- but more hopefully when -- I'm going through all this again, I have a long list of reminders.

And that's all she wrote!

John Paul's Birth Story, Part 4

To read part 3 click here. 

9.5cm dilated with just a teeny tiny super flexible lip left in the way!!

SO CLOSE!

I wasn't quite allowed to push yet, but Dr. P, our NaPro OB, was on his way and pushing was most definitely going to happen soon.

When Dr. P arrived around 4:45am, I was mid-contraction and was SO exhausted from the intensity, I couldn't even lift my head off the birthing ball I was leaning on to say hi. Actually, it took me about 5 minutes to even process that I should say hi. A super muffled,"Hi, Dr. P," was all I could muster. I'm sure he understood, though.

At 5am, Dr. P gave me the go ahead to start pushing! Hallelujah!

From everything I had read, pushing is typically the favorite part for moms, since the contractions actually get a little easier and you actually feel like you're doing something productive finally. You can even watch your little one's head descend if you want. So I was ready. Exhausted, but ready.

In our birth preferences, we had written that I wanted to decide which position I pushed in. I figured I'd want to be squatting or kneeling on the bed, hanging over the back of it, something non-traditional like that. Especially because in those positions, you're less likely to tear. But when the time finally came, I was soooo exhausted, and still shaking uncontrollably from when transition started in the tub, that all I wanted to do was lie down. And so I did.

At this point I also decided I wanted to be completely naked. I wanted to be able to do skin-to-skin immediately and I thought complete nakedness would make that easiest. So off went the bikini top. And away went any shred of modesty I had left.

Before pushing started, I remember saying to Amy in a super wimpy, tired voice, "What if I'm bad at pushing?" I was so scared of getting stuck in the pushing phase, or needing assistance to pull baby out. She reassured me that I could do it and then the whole pushing ordeal started.

Turns out, I'm not like most moms. I hated pushing. It was way harder than I ever thought it'd be. First, contractions were still being mega felt in my bottom. So that didn't get any better. And on top of that, the pushing process is just complicated. You wait around for a contraction to start and then you hold your breath 'til you're bright red in the face and you PUSH with everything you've got, barely catching your breath between each push. And you've got to push to a very specific spot or else all your pushing energies are wasted. Of course, I kept pushing into the wrong spot. It wasn't 'til the end of the contraction that I'd figure out where to direct my pushing, and by then, I'd only get one short, perfect push in.

Finally, by around the 10th or so contraction of pushing, I had it figured out. I pretty much would push correctly the whole way through and we were making some serious progress. I was still hating every second of it, but I was doing it.

Soon, Dr. P and John and all the other spectators could see baby's head! I had told Dr. P at one of my prenatal appointments that I was pretty sure baby was going to be super baldy since both John and I were bald babes, so he decided that moment was the perfect time to make a joke. "This is the baldest baby I've ever delivered!" Totally funny to me now, not funny at all during delivery. I looked him dead in the eye and said, "Knock it off."

With the next contraction, baby was crowning! And WOW was that a special kind of pain. They call it the ring of fire and now I know why. It burrrrrrns! His head was half out and my contraction was over, so his head just sat there, burning my perineal tissue. Ouch! But letting him just sit there was also stretching it out, which I knew was good for avoiding a tear. So I just panted and whined through it... "Owww! It hurts SO much!"

Dr. P asked me if I wanted to reach down and feel the head during the next contraction and I just bluntly said, "NO." I mean, I could definitely feel it already, thank you very much, and something just weirded me out about touching a half-birthed head.

The next contraction came and with a push, his head was out!! Doc told me to stop pushing so he could check for a cord around baby's neck. No cord was there, so I pushed again to get baby's shoulders out and just like that, our baby was born!

They immediately put baby on my tummy and by the way they held baby up, I could easily tell we had a boy!! And our boy had a set of healthy lungs because he was crying up a storm already. Such a sweet, sweet cry!

I looked up at John and he was blubbering more than the baby. It was so beautiful to see him so emotional.

Meanwhile, I snuggled up with my newborn son and just quietly fell in love.

We were able to do the delayed cord clamping, then John cut the cord.

We cuddled skin-to-skin while Dr. P delivered the placenta and then stitched me up. I was still shaking uncontrollably at this point. Labor does some weird things to your body.

I ended up with a 2nd degree tear, close to a 3rd, which Dr. P thinks happened when John Paul's shoulders made their way out. He said I did a great job pushing slowly to avoid a tear, but those shoulders just caught me the wrong way, and so I tore. Ah well!

While he was stitching, I remember apologizing to Dr. P and the rest of the folks in the room for all the weird noises I made during labor. I was surprised when they said the noises weren't weird at all, but instead sounded like I was singing! I guess moaning isn't as embarrassing as I thought!

John Paul and I stayed skin-to-skin for a while and attempted a first breastfeed, but he wasn't maintaining his temperature, so they had to take him to the warmer for a little bit.

They weighed our big boy and he was 7lb 15oz!! He checked out perfectly in every way and soon he was warm enough to return to Mommy for more cuddles.

Our doula, Amy

We announced the good news by calling our parents and our siblings and texting pictures. It was so fun to tell folks, "You have a grandSON," or "You have a NEPHEW!"

It was also so fun to inspect all his little details. His soft skin, his fingers and toes, his fuzzy red hair. It was so easy to fall in love.

Soon enough, it was time to clean up and get wheeled down to the recovery room. John Paul still hadn't latched on or tried to feed and was honestly just more interested in crying and sleeping. It was easy to be ok with that though, since he was so dang cute.

And that's where this birth story ends and a lifetime of motherhood begins.

2 years of infertility, 1.5 years of NaPro treatment, 9 months of pregnancy, 12 hours of labor, and 40 minutes of pushing. So much heartache and sorrow and pain and joy in that time. But this little guy was worth it all. This little guy was worth the wait.

All praise be to God!

John Paul's Birth Story, Part 3

To read part 2 click here.

In the days leading up to my due date, John and I did our best to distract ourselves with different distracting activities, and one night, this included making little posters for the labor and delivery room. So the first thing we did when we got to room 603 was hang 'em up!

Next, it was back on the monitor for me. It had been a little more than an hour since my contractions and baby's heartbeat had been monitored, so I was due up. I didn't realize I was allowed to stand during monitoring, so stupid me sat in the bed the whole 20 minutes, and gosh did that hurt!

Amy, our doula, arrived around 2am and we made plans to labor in the tub for a while. It wasn't a fancy tub or anything, just your standard shower with tub, but I was interested in seeing if the water relieved any of the butt contraction pressure. Unfortunately, it took a while for the tub to fill, so by the time the tub was filled up, it was almost time to be put on the monitor again. But this time, since our expert Amy was there, she pointed out that I didn't have to sit on the bed while on the monitor, so at least there was that. She also whipped out this handy trick during each contraction and would push on my lower back by squeezing my hips to relieve some of the pressure. It was niiiice. I'd lean on a big birthing ball set on the bed and squat, she'd squeeze my hips, and John would stand on the other side of the ball, holding my hands and saying sweet things. We made a great birthing team.

After what felt like foreverrrrrr, we were finally off the monitor again, so into the tub I went, around 3am. I wore my green polka dot bikini top to feel more cute and keep things semi-modest (although, ok, so I wasn't wearing anything on the bottom, oops). Amy "lit" some fake candles, we turned the lights off, and John put on some relaxing music, Tibetan chant music with nature sounds in the background. So peaceful, and such a lovely way to labor.

I'm not going to say that being in the water felt much better. It did slow my contractions down just a bit, but soon they picked up in intensity so much that I started shaking uncontrollably. I'd arch my back and wiggle around a lot during the contractions to keep my bum off the hard surface, and I started doing something I never thought I'd do. I moaned. Lots and lots of moaning.

When reading up on labor and watching a few birth videos, I realized moaning and/or screaming was a thing that a lot of women did. But I was so embarrassed by it, I figured I just wouldn't do it. I didn't want to make such weird noises in front of my doula and my doctor, no way, no how. But then, in the moment, I just couldn't help it. It felt SO GOOD to vocalize. My goal all along was to stay loose and relaxed during contractions and this absolutely helped with that. So I just went with it. And honestly wasn't embarrassed in the slightest.

John and Amy could both tell things were getting serious in the tub. With all the shaking and the moaning getting louder with each contraction, we all knew what was up... TRANSITION. I was getting closer and closer to the end of labor and my body sure was showing the signs.

And then, I felt this undeniable urge to PUSH. With each contraction, it'd start like all the others. I'd squirm around for a few seconds, moan a bit, but then I just couldn't help it... I'd have this overwhelming urge to puuuuuushhhhhhh down and out. It was wild how my body just took over and made me do it. We were pretty sure I wasn't at 10cm yet, so we decided I probably shouldn't be pushing. Amy guessed it was because my water hadn't broken yet and so it was bulging into my birth canal and making my body think it had something to push out. Anyway, it's a BAD idea to push if you're not 10cm dilated yet because you can really damage your cervix, not to mention you tire yourself out way too early.

So now with each contraction, I had to do all I could to stop my body from pushing. It was not easy, nor pleasant, but we got through. I basically had two options -- pant like a dog or put my lips together and blow like a horse. Both incredibly awkward things to do for someone who's not in labor. But I was in labor gosh darn it, so I did what I had to do. And honestly, they really did help. I was able to mostly avoid the unnecessary pushing with each contraction with the doggy/horsy sound techniques, so all was good.

My husband was also the sweetest thing ever during this whole intense tub ordeal. Between contractions he'd pour water over my belly, which didn't exactly fit in the tub, and tell me stories from many of our romantic adventures -- our honeymoon, our babymoon, our wedding day. *Insert melting heart here.* And during contractions, he'd do the horsy blowy breathing thing with me and just hold my hand tight. Super husband, folks, seriously.

We also tried to get through more prayers on my labor prayer list during tub time, but if I'm being honest, it got so intense that I was way too distracted to focus on individual prayers. So instead, I'm hoping God knew that I was offering up the rest of my labor for the rest of the wonderful women on my prayer list.

By 4am, Gabby nurse was back and ready to put me on the monitor again. My tubbing time was over. But before I got hooked up, we decided it was time to check my cervix again, since things had very obviously progressed in the tub.

We were so thrilled when Gabby announced my progress.

8cm dilated!!!

She also said that as soon as my water broke, I'd probably be ready to push. WOWSA! We didn't want anyone breaking my water just yet, so we decided to continue laboring with water intact, but also had a feeling it'd be breaking on its own soon.

Fast forward through 20 minutes of monitoring and me laboring while holding onto the birthing ball on the bed while doing horsy noises to avoid pushing and moaning to relieve tension. Gabby wrapped up my monitoring stuff and announced, "Call me back in here when her water breaks," while walking out of the room. Not even 5 seconds later... GUSH! My water broke during another intense butt contraction!! So back into the room she came.

Even though it hadn't been long since my last cervix check, we decided to let her check again, just to see how much progress breaking my water caused. So I laid down on the bed, she checked me and...

To read part 4 click here. 

John Paul's Birth Story, Part 2

To read part 1 click here. 

"You're 4cm dilated and 70% effaced," said our nurse, Gabby.

Immediately, John and I exchanged a look. It was half "alright, we've made progress!" and half "but not as much progress as we'd like" and another half "so should we stay or should we go now?"

So we explained this to Gabby. We told her we were planning on going home if I was less than 6cm dilated. She quickly explained that though I was only 4cm, I was extremely favorable and would likely dilate another centimeter over the next hour. She offered to check in with Dr. P, our OB to see what he recommended and we took her up on it, even though it meant waking him at 11:30 at night. 

She returned after five more minutes of my butt laboring and said he recommended the same -- stay for an hour to see how I progress. If I dilated more, we would stay, if I stayed at 4cm, we'd go home. Since both of them made the same rec, we figured what the hay! Might as well give it a go. Plus, there was only one other laboring mama on the whole floor, so we'd basically have the place to ourselves. Not exactly home, but still a pretty peaceful environment for laboring, as far as hospitals go.

At this point, Gabby had already monitored my contractions and baby's heartbeat for the mandatory 20 minutes out of the hour (intermittent monitoring) and she'd read and approved everything in our birth preferences (yay!), so we were free to labor as we pleased. She said she'd be back in an hour to check for progress, so off we went to work on progressing.

I labored for a few contractions in our small triage room, but we quickly decided walking laps around the halls would be our best approach. 

The halls were lined with the most out-of-date, awkwardly adorable Anne Geddes portraits. They were a great distraction between butt contractions.

When a contraction would kick in, I'd hang on John, slow dance style, and do this strange butt-out squat to relieve a bit of the butt pressure. It was getting more intense! I'd also try my best to relax my face, my jaw, my shoulders, my everything to keep things loosey goosey and hopefully encourage my cervix to do the same. 

After an hour of making fun of babies dressed as cabbages and squirrels and breathing through intensifying butt labor, it was time to be checked again. The moment of truth.

Gabby came in to check me and soon another butt contraction hit. Only this time it was way more uncomfortable because I was lying in the bed getting ready to be checked instead of standing and slow dance squatting with John. So I muttered something ridiculous like, "I just want to poop all my insides out." Gabby looked at me like I was crazy pants. That's seriously what it felt like though. I just wanted to empty all my insides through my bum. I shake my fist at you, butt labor!

By the way, as it turns out, all the butt labor was because one little mister, *coughJohnPaulcough* had his shoulder shoved against my rectum. Gabby pointed out that even though it wasn't pleasant, it was making things more favorable, since he was sitting so dang low. So thanks for that, kiddo. 

Alright, back to the moment of truth. Gabby checked me and...

I was 5cm dilated!

Just as she and Dr. P had predicted! A whole centimeter in an hour!! Gosh, were we glad we didn't just up and go home after our first cervix check. 

From there, we made the easy decision to stay at the hospital. Next, we agreed it was finally time to call our parents to let them know their grandbaby was on his/her way. We tried to be hush hush about the whole labor until we were absolutely sure baby was coming, so that's why we waited so long. We wanted privacy to labor in peace, without excitement buzzing around us or people getting pushy and bugging us about baby's arrival. One of the best decisions we made. 

Next, we called our doula, Amy, and asked her to head to the hospital. She said she'd join us ASAP, and boy were we ready for her because (butt) contractions were getting even more intense!

In the meantime, Gabby was busy getting things ready to transfer us to our labor and delivery room. She gave me my hep-lock IV (just in case I needed fluids or some sort of drug in my system later on) during a contraction (double ouchies!) and then, by 1am we were up and out, headed via wheel chair to the special room where we'd soon meet our precious baby!

To read part 3 click here.