The Delivery: Lil' J's Birth Story Part 3

Read the Preface
Read Part 1
Read Part 2

I felt another contraction and wasn’t sure if it was as strong as the last few, or if the epidural was kicking in. I kept saying a silent prayer that I wouldn’t be one of those fluke cases of people who are immune to the proclaimed glorious drug.

As that contraction fizzled out I waited for the next but it never came. Well, it did but I didn’t feel it. I was in heaven.

I always thought it was so funny watching a Baby Story and seeing the 180 women did after having an epidural. The dreamy smiles they had on their faces and praises seemed a little overboard to me. Now that I was experiencing this for myself I knew EXACTLY how they felt, and they were not playing!

I had to tell every person who came into the room how wonderful the epidural was.

“Ooh mom, it’s working, this is great! I’m so glad it worked.” I told her.

“This is great, I’m so glad I got the epidural,” I told my nurse Elizabeth.

“This is amazing,” I told my OB and anyone else who would listen.

“Ep-i-DUR-al” I tried to coach my 5-year-old sister to remember the word for a couple of decades.

“I love you,” I said past my husband and to the bag of liquid gold dripping down through my IV.

The epidural man looked even sexier than before when he came back to check on me. Are all anesthesiologists hot? Everything was working great.

Now I was able to sit back, relax and enjoy the last few hours. I joked with my sisters, took a nap, watched TV, and played “guess what she’ll look like,” with my husband.

My OB checked on me, at about 3:30 and I was 8cm dilated, 100% effaced, and a 0 station. Woohooo!! I was on my way to having this baby, and no epidural was slowing me down!

Just an hour later I started to feel pressure in my booty. I didn’t tell anyone, but I knew she was squeezing her little self downward.

I was checked again around 6:30 or so, and fully dilated. My doctor explained since I had a lot of meconium in my amniotic fluid, NICU nurses and doctors would be on standby when my daughter was born. She said if she came out crying, we could continue as planned. She’d hand the baby to me right away, and my husband could cut the cord. But if she wasn’t crying right away, she’d need to be whisked to the people standing by, so they could check on her.

She went to finish something else up but she told the nurses we could start pushing and she’d be back. Sadly, that’s when Elizabeth’s shift was ending. So another nurse came in for the fun part.

There was quite a bit of down time before we got the pushing started. I took that to my advantage and decided to do what?—Take my hair down. My mom helped me unravel a couple dozen rollers from my hair, and get it in place for pictures after the pushing.

Elizabeth did get to see my hair out of rollers right before she left, and was impressed with my preparedness.

I asked for a mirror before she left (not for my hair, but to watch my baby come out) and they brought one out from the back room. I was back and forth on wanting to see but I figured if I had the mirror there I could always choose to look away.

My new nurse sat down beside me and said we could start pushing while we waited and see how much progress I could make.

My husband started to freak out a little, in shock mostly that we were actually about to have our baby. I told him to keep his eyes above my waist, and he had no problem obeying. Our nurse told him to warn her if he was going to pass out.

I didn’t feel a huge urge to push but I did feel pressure when I was having a contraction, and could feel the muscles I needed to use to push down. I pushed them on my own a little while I was waiting cause I could have sworn it felt like a baby was about to fall out of my vagina.

Once I could tell things were about to get going I told my mom I’d have my husband come get her once our baby was born. She and my sisters left to anticipate our daughter in the waiting room.

During a contraction the nurse asked me to push but immediately told me to stop.

“The baby’s head is right there,” she pointed in the mirror. “Can you see that?”

I could! And just as I had hoped, this said head had hair!

My nurse asked me not to push as she called my OB.

“She said you were going to be a great pusher,” my nurse told me. I wondered how anyone could have guessed that, but tried to take it as some sort of compliment.

So this isn’t going to take two hours. I thought to myself. I had heard pushing could easily take an hour, two or three, and get tiring. I was happy to hear it wasn’t going to take me that long.

My doctor asked the nurse to shut off the pitocin while we waited for her to get back. I was curious if it would do anything to stop my contractions or if they had picked up on their own. I had written in my plan to try to labor without pitocin after my contractions had picked up a set pattern and see if they could be self-sustainable. I never asked to try it because 1. I was afraid they’d stop and we’d have to start all over and 2. After getting the epidural I didn’t care.

As we waited I could see on the monitor that my contractions were dying down, not coming as often or as strong. I guess that’s why I was on pitocin in the first place. That moment re-confirmed my decision to be induced.

When my OB came back she came with a team of people, all dressed up in scrubs from head to toe. She reminded me of the different scenarios that would play out depending if my baby cried or not. I hoped she would cry so I’d know immediately that she was ok, and so that I could hold her right away.

She asked for olive oil to help ease the baby’s head out—She doesn’t do episiotomies. I tried not to watch the stretching but I was curious to see my progress at the same time.

We waited for a contraction, they asked if I could feel it, and even if I didn’t, I tried to just push when I felt like pushing. I imitated what I saw on TV, took a deep breath and PUUUSHED.

It didn’t hurt, though I imagine it would have if I didn’t have an epidural.

I pushed three times and they told me her head was about to come out. We had to wait awhile between contractions and I was anxious to meet her, so I didn’t want to stop pushing.

After a few more contractions they told me one more push and she’d be out. I thought they were joking—Or just telling me that as some sort of ploy to keep me motivated, and that they’d tell me “one more time” about five more times. But sure enough after the next push they told me my baby’s head was out, and with another little push she slid right out, and cried.

My doctor instantly handed her to me, slimy and all, and I kissed her little face and introduced myself to her as her mommy. I was happy she didn’t have a cone head, surprised as how chubby she looked, and at her strength. We lied chest to chest but she lifted her little head up to look at me. Newborns don’t do that. I thought. I was impressed already.

My husband, who was by my side all along had a permanent smile on his face.

He took the scissor-like tool from my doctor’s hand and cut our cord.

We sat together as a new family of three in our own little world for some time. I was in disbelief. I couldn’t—and still can’t wrap my brain around the fact that this was the same little faceless child that was in my womb for 9+ months.

When they finally took her away and weighed her they told us she was a big and healthy 9 pounds 9 ounces. All were impressed.

I did need a few stitches since I tore a little in the process, but I didn’t feel that either—Until later. Luckily there were pain meds for that too.

The experience is one I’ll remember forever. I went into this birth fearing the worst yet hoping for the best, and came out wondering why I had ever worried in the first place. I’ve learned to stick with my mother’s intuition and feel confidant in my choices, even if they differ from popular belief, or even my caregiver.

This story could have gone a million different ways, but in the end I got exactly what I wanted—My beautiful healthy little girl (and cute first family pictures).

Lil' J's Birth Story: Part 1

I met with my OB on Tuesday after having contractions for days. I busted out my contraction tracker iPhone app a few times to time them and while at times they were 2-3 minutes apart for hours I knew they weren’t strong enough to be doing much, and if I went to the hospital I’d be sent home.

I was checked at my appointment and still just 1.5cm dilated and 50% effaced. Still a long way to go. We did an ultrasound and saw that my amniotic fluid levels and placenta looked good, and my baby was still doing well. They didn’t guestimate how big she was during the ultrasound and tell me I needed to induce because of her size, but I knew in my gut she was big.

My OB doesn’t induce before 41 weeks unless it’s medically necessary; so the first day I could choose to be induced was Saturday. I’d be 41 weeks and 2 days pregnant, huge, and ready to evict her.

My maternity leave had already started, and my husband had already been off work for a week, waiting for our daughter to arrive. I asked my doctor what the benefits of waiting would be and if she thought it would be better if I waited until 42 weeks, or went with inducing Saturday. She said it’s really hard to tell before. She said there’s a chance the baby isn’t quite ready to come out when you induce early, but there’s also a chance she could get too big the longer she’s inside. My husband and I decided going with Saturday, July 3rd would be the best choice.

My OB picked up the phone, set my appointment and said we needed to go to the hospital Friday night to check in, and get Cervidil started to help get my cervix softer and ready for pitocin. There was a chance contractions would start that night and that I wouldn’t need pitocin in the morning, but I wasn’t counting on it.

In the mean time I tried every wives tale and natural induction method I had heard of. Contractions would start and go and go and go but they were never very painful. Either I had higher pain tolerance than I thought, or nothing was really happening.

I went about that week getting everything ready for her new due date. I cherished every night my husband had to sleep in, stay up late, take naps, and have our last few moments of time alone as non-parents.

Thursday night, our last night together before going to the hospital, neither of us could sleep. I remember looking at my husband and telling him I felt like I was waiting for Christmas. He smiled and said him too. We were both so anxious.

Friday morning we woke up with a list of things to do before heading to the hospital. The last few things on my list were to put my hair in rollers, put in my fake eyelashes, do my makeup and pig out.

I ate some pasta, turned on some tunes, bounced on my yoga ball, and rolled my hair for the next hour. I figured I may have time to freshen up and do my makeup after my daughter was born and before taking photos, but I may not, so I did it beforehand just in case. I wanted good pictures dangit!When I came down stairs my husband looked at me and laughed.

"Are we going to a photo shoot or going to have a baby?" He asked me.

I thought for a second. "Both."
We dropped our house key off at a friend’s house so they could let Snoop out, and decided to take a trip to IHOP. Another reason I love my husband… He’s not afraid to be seen in public with me, 41 weeks pregnant, with rollers in my hair.

After eating a scrumptious meal—French toast and eggs—And giggling at the awkward looks I was getting in the process, it was go time!

Although we weren’t rushing to the hospital because of outrageously painful contractions making me scream, we still were in a bit of a hurry because we were running late for my check in time. We were supposed to be there at 6pm, so we pretended like we were on the verge of having the baby in the car.

It was pouring rain outside, and since I had done so much work to get my hair straight, then rolled, I tried my best to stay dry. The sight of me, big belly, in hair rollers, carrying a huge hospital bag and a pink umbrella was too good to pass up. We stopped to grab a picture before we went in.I carried one of my bags and a woman spotted me in the hall—shocked that I was carrying it (I know she was looking at my husband wondering why he was letting me do that). I insisted that it was my choice. I was doing everything I could to help my baby out! Plus, it wasn’t like I was in labor or leaking amniotic fluid all over the place.

Once we got to labor and delivery I realized how nice it was to be checking in with a clear mind.

“Jennifer?” the woman behind the counter confirmed my appointment. “You’re in room 260.”

As we walked down the halls I distinctly remember feeling like we were getting VIP treatment and checking into a hotel. This is my style, I thought to myself.

Or first nurse—Jennifer—Came in and said hi. She was a nice lady, sorta soft spoken, but friendly. She asked me to change into my hospital gown and I let her know I brought my own.

Once I changed, and hopped into bed, it hit me that this was really happening.
The nurse put my saline block in so I’d be ready for an IV in the morning, and put the Cervidil in. I got hooked up to monitoring, though she showed me how to detach them in case I wanted to move around.

I had a lot of questions for her: Was wireless monitoring available? Could I get a foley catheter to help me dilate if the Cervidil didn’t work? What could I do to get my bishiop score from a 6 up to a 7 or an 8? If the Cervidil worked really well could we skip the pitocin all together?

I could tell she was surprised I knew as much as I did, and did her best to answer all of my questions.

My husband told me to calm down, and kept reminding me everything was going to be ok. He asked me to try to remember why we were there—To have a baby. And said we’d be blessed and happy if she and I were both healthy at the end of the day.

He could tell I was stressing out about how everything was going to end up. I was over thinking things.

She told me contractions could get started that night, but gave me some sleeping medication so I could sleep through it. I took one and saved the other—Thinking I’d use it to help me sleep through active labor in the morning. I ended up never using that other pill.

Jennifer brought me some surprisingly yummy hospital food and my husband went out to get us more food. I figured I should eat as much as I could before we got the show on the road.
Contractions picked up stronger than they had been before, but they still weren’t as painful as I knew they could or would be. So I prepared myself to get pitocin to help in the morning.

That night I slept to the sounds of my daughter’s heartbeat on the monitor, and dreamed about what meeting her would be like.

Lil' J's Birth Story: The Preface

In the hours and days before the birth of my daughter I envisioned what our first moments together would be like—What I’d think when I first saw her. Would she be like a stranger to me, or would it feel like I had known her my whole life? That moment was finally staring me in the face.

First I heard her cry, a good sign since NICU nurses were on standby in case she didn’t. There was meconium—lots of it—in my amniotic fluid and they wanted to be sure she hadn’t inhaled any of it.

When I saw my baby’s face for the first time, and got to hold her in my arms, all of my stresses, my worries, my anxiety about how she would arrive not only went out the window--They became insignificant.

My daughter was here. She was a healthy 9 pounds 9 ounces, 20-and-a-half inches long. And I was a healthy mom. Everything didn’t go exactly as I imagined, but in many ways it was better than I could have hoped.

Breastfeeder/formula feeder. Cosleeper/ separate sleeper. Natural birth/ epidurals. Vaginal birth/ cesarean sections. None of those terms really matter to anyone other than the mother and her child. I think we sometimes we put too much emphasis on labels and automatically judge a person based on a word as simple as “Cosleeper.”

Really, the most important part of my birth story is described in the first few paragraphs of this post. The other details—Preferences I had and choices I made may matter more or less to others but it’s all a part of my beautiful story of bring my baby into the world.

I felt a sense of accomplishment. We did it! I incubated and birthed a baby and officially became a mommy.
More of the details of our story coming tomorrow.

Photo from Forever Bliss Photography.