Three months of loving our sweet Gracie girl and I am finally sitting down to finish this blog! (New mom life, am I right?) The last three months have been the happiest, scariest, best, most-kissable, anxiety-ridden, yet wonderful months of my life. Becoming a mom is nothing like I thought it would be, and everything I dreamed it could be (and more)! I laugh, because I was quite skeptical while pregnant. A frequent thought through my head was, what if I don’t like being a mom? I mean, I was already pregnant, there wasn’t any turning around, but still. What if I want my old life back? What scared me was the fact that I have always been a fiercely independent, fun-loving, adventuresome, strong-willed woman. While I had always wanted to be a mom, the thought of any of that changing and losing all of the things I had characterized myself as, was terrifying. In one of my many moments of doubt, I distinctly remember a conversation with Jared – he was talking about how excited he was to be bringing this little being into our life. He said that everything in our life was about to get better – from holidays, to evening walks, to visits with family. This little bundle of love was going to enrich our lives in every way. I remember thinking, “hmph, well I am glad he thinks this is going to be so special. Doesn’t he know our lives as we know them are basically going to be over?”
Ha!! And our old life in many ways is over. Or maybe it is simply on pause while we figure out this new dynamic. But Jared couldn’t have been any more right. Every day is so much better with our sweet girl. It doesn’t mean they’re all easy (for being a tiny little thing she has some pipes that she’s not afraid to use), but they are all special.
With this change of mindset, sense of overwhelming love, and having undergone a truly life-changing experience, I really struggled getting my words and thoughts down about her birth. But in a recent yoga session (which typically starts out more like a therapy session) I was telling my instructor what a wonderful birth experience I had. It wasn’t what one would call enjoyable from a pain perspective, but in every other way it was a dreamy delivery. After telling Su all about it she asked me a simple question, but the one I need to get started here –
Why did I think it went so well, and what did I do to prepare that helped it go so well?
When she posed the question that way, it was clear: I was excited to give birth, I had no expectations about how my delivery was going to go, and I had good energy around me.
Simple. Kumbaya.
Right…?
Well, sort of. Don’t hate me. That’s a pretty hippy dippy answer, but one that feels pretty true to my experience. I did a number of things leading up to “D” Day to help me prepare mentally and physically, but how much they actually contributed to the success of my delivery is up for debate. Which leads me to my probably my strongest thought on the subject of birth (sorry this may come as a major disappointment for any pregnant friends, or those wanting to have a baby in the future), but I am thoroughly convinced you will have the delivery you are meant to have. You may be able to influence it and have an iota of control, but having a baby is a miracle from God, and when Big G is involved, you best just lean into the faith and let him handle the rest.
With that said, in the next blog I’ll share all the things I did that may, or may not, have helped (take them with a grain of salt!). For today, I’ll tell you all about my excitement, lack of expectations, and the good energy surrounding me for Gracie’s debut into this big ol’ beautiful world.
Pregnancy
Before jumping right into “D” Day, it is worth talking about my pregnancy, as your mental, emotional, and physical state the nine months leading up to delivery can have an impact on the big day. Now if you thought I sounded hippy dippy talking to Su above, buckle up because it gets better.
Throughout my pregnancy I had a vivid, almost tangible, vision for my birth – it was calm. It was beautiful, natural, and peaceful. Pain was never a large part of my premonition. In all of these visions I had a sense of being very in-tune and aware of what was happening. I saw myself having an unmedicated birth, and helping catching Baby S. It was strange, these visions felt like an out of body experience, and I was watching them unfold.
I told others bits and pieces of these visions, mainly saying I felt as though my delivery was going to be a beautiful experience. In an effort to not sound like a total fruit loop, I laughed and chalked it up to being hopeful, wishful, and mostly naïve. I am not sure whether I manifested my experience, or if I just got lucky. More than anything I have to think it was probably God and my body bringing my vision to life.
Overall I had a relatively easy pregnancy. I say easy because I enjoyed being pregnant, but “easy” is also a state of mind. My pregnancy had its own set of worries, too. At our ultrasound they found a calcium spot on the baby’s heart – nothing to be concerned with and something that usually goes away before birth. They called it an Echogenic Intracardiac Focus and it was supposedly, relatively common. Nothing to worry over. But we were offered a follow up ultrasound if we wanted. Of course I took the opportunity, I wanted to ensure our baby was healthy and any opportunity to see our little one was exciting. But, this ultrasound started a domino effect of concern – it was at this second ultrasound that we found the baby was little, hanging right around the 10th percentile for size (anything under the 10th percentile for size gives cause for concern). Baby appeared healthy, just little. My midwife believed I was just having a petite baby, knowing Jared and I aren’t very big, however she gave us the option to follow up with a specialist.
Again, of course I took the opportunity to monitor our baby and give us some peace of mind. At our appointment with the specialist I figured we’d pop in, they’d say all was great and we’d leave…
Nope.
They mentioned she was falling below the 10th percentile for size, and we would need to come in weekly for ultrasounds to monitor her condition and growth. In addition they wanted me to do weekly non-stress tests. I was devastated, and terrified. I prayed and cried and let myself bury my head under the covers for a day.
So they started. Two to three appointments per week in Chico. A specialist. Measurements and weight checks. Ensuring the blood flow through the umbilical cord to/from the placenta, and to the brain was healthy. It was a lot, and there is no worse feeling than not feeling as though you can protect your child. All I wanted was her in my arms, healthy. But here again, I had an overwhelming vision of our baby. I would call it a sense, but it was stronger than that. Maybe it was my first experience of mother’s intuition. I knew our baby was strong. I felt it in every fiber of my body and had felt it from the beginning. I had to beat those scary thoughts out of my head and lean into this vision as much as possible, or I’d completely fold.
We shared this with very few people, and it took us a while to even tell our family and close friends. It was mainly something we wanted to process ourselves, and it was painful and scary to discuss out loud. We leaned on our core group of people, and as you now know, it worked out perfect. After a few weeks of ultrasounds, she started packing on the pounds. She eeked her way just over the 10th percentile, we broke five pounds, and were able to extend time in between ultrasounds. Again, Big G lead the charge, and our sweet angel was born at the most scrumptious, perfect size.
And right on her due date.
Water Breaking, Labor, & Delivery
On April 5th I woke up in the middle of the night having some trouble sleeping, so I went out to the couch and laid down. I wasn’t wildly uncomfortable, but was approaching my due date and getting restless. Well, verging on resentful is a little more accurate! I know that a due date is simply a a “best guess”, but I was so excited and anxious to meet our little one that the thought of waiting up to two more weeks was unbearable. I loved being pregnant, feeling those baby kicks and rubbing my belly, but I’d also forgotten what it felt like to not be pregnant… We didn’t find out the baby’s gender (which is amazing considering how many ultrasounds we had!), so I was absolutely giddy to give birth and find out what Baby S was. Who was this little being in my belly? What would they look like? What would their personality be like? So many questions!!
Well, either my child is as punctual as I am, or she knew better than to test her momma’s patience, or maybe she’s just perfect.. (you can guess which option I’m going with!), and around 5:45 am on the 5th things started happening. I had a sudden uncontrollable urge to pee and ran to the bathroom, peeing my pants on the way there. I knew I wasn’t on my A game, but that still seemed a little odd. Each time I tried to stand up I gushed more water. I was pretty sure (and very hopeful) that this was the ceremonious “water-breaking”. But like anyone searching for answers, I messaged one of my best friends. She had shared a similar experience so I know she would confirm and cut it to me straight.
Per Dr. Sarah, yep, that was my watering breaking. It continued to break throughout the day and was painless, albeit a bit uncomfortable. I mean, no one likes peeing their pants on repeat all day.
After telling Sarah I tried to keep quiet. I even hesitated telling Jared. A) I didn’t want to prematurely freak him out, and B) since it was my first baby I tried not to get too excited. I figured we were settling in for a few days-long process. However, Jared is also a horseshoer, which means he can be any number of hours away in any direction, with sketchy service. I really didn’t want him getting too far off in case things escalated quickly. So once he was awake and before he hot-footed it out of the house, I let him know what was happening.
And so we settled in and waited…
Although my water had broke, I didn’t have any contractions or pains. Through all of our classes, having your water break really did not seem to be that big of a deal. They say you have about 24 hours (roughly) before intervention or concern after your water breaks, as the body will continue to produce amniotic fluid and baby is just fine. The only concern being the potential exposure to infection (which is why you don’t want to sit in a bath at home after your water breaks). (Note: talk to your doctor or midwife, I’m not a professional and I’m not the gospel here, just explaining what I did and my mindset.) Knowing this, I had no desire or reason to go to the hospital or call the midwife, but as you can imagine, Jared said that wasn’t going to fly. When I did call, the midwife she said to come in around the 12-hour mark just to check it out.
Again, I figured this would take some time so I wasn’t hot on telling a bunch of people. My boss, Richard weaseled the truth out of me (as he usually does) when I opted to work from home and “stick close to the house”. He called my bluff in about 0.5 seconds. Despite my best efforts to stay cool, calm, and collected, I was getting pretty excited. So I told my mom, but insisted she stay put, nothing was going to happen that day. You can imagine about how well she listened, and within two hours she was on her way over…
Fortunately Kenzie (my sister/best friend/and second support person in the delivery room) happened to text me and ask how I was feeling. I let her know my water had broke, but not to worry. Like mom, she took a more proactive approach to the situation, and got prepared to come over ASAP. (And good thing she did!)
I spent the day emailing and working, my mind was elsewhere but I tried to keep myself distracted. As the day inched on we were all getting a bit restless. I decided to finally pack a hospital bag, tried to rest (my brain wouldn’t shut down enough for me to enjoy), and puttered around the house. As we got close to the 12-hour mark Jared and my mom were pushing me out the door. I took my sweet time showering and getting ready, finally loading up and heading to Chico (about a 30-45 minute drive). By this point I was having mild contractions. The time between them ranged, but I could feel them coming and would just breathe through them. In birthing class they said not to come in until you couldn’t talk through a contraction, as that would signal active labor. Since my contractions didn’t feel all that bad I was still hesitant about going to the hospital and being stuck there for a few days. Or worse yet, being sent home!
We showed up around seven, and Kenzie met us there. She and Jared were my two designated support people. We checked in, they took us to our room where we settled in, chatting and getting comfy. I was breathing through my contractions and in good spirits. I just wanted to get the show on the road. (And to eat one of the blueberry muffins from the hospital that everyone raves about.) Honestly, Jared looked more concerned than I did and Kenzie had a look of “what did I get myself in for”, but being my sister she did everything she could think of to make it special and be supportive!
We checked in right at a shift change, so we had a fresh nurse who would be with us all night. I asked about the midwife on call, praying it was Vanessa, the midwife I had seen throughout my pregnancy. I was skeptical, as what are the odds she would actually deliver my baby, but hallelujah!!! Vanessa was on call. I was certain this baby would be born on her due date (we went in on the night of the 5th), and that Vanessa would deliver her.
Vanessa knew Jared and I well, our personalities, and what our hopes were. Nonetheless, she talked to me about what I hoped for in my birth. Here is a key point – I had zero expectations and was not dead set on anything. I adopted this mindset from my friend Juliet, and am so thankful I went into it thinking this way, it removed the pressure from the situation. I told Vanessa that I wished for an unmedicated delivery and really didn’t want to have to get any Pitocin, but was happy to get an epidural if it got to be too much, or if it was what my body needed to relax and have the baby. I was fearful of a c-section, but knew people got them every day, and it didn’t matter how it happened, as long as my healthy baby was in my arms.
Once settled in, I was still having pretty mild contractions, nothing too challenging. I was hopeful that it meant I had a high pain tolerance, but chalked it up to the beginning stages of labor. They checked me to confirm my water had really broken, and they gave me half a prostaglandin pill to help ripen my cervix.
Well, ripen it did, and within an hour my contractions were getting stronger. They were painful and challenging, but I could manage. Jared stepped in and gently rocked my hips and legs back and forth as I laid on my side and breathed. As simple as it sounds, this felt great. I also knew I wanted to utilize water as much as possible for pain relief, and we headed to the shower where I sat with warm water on my back. This was very helpful in managing my back labor. Back labor turned out to be the worst part of my labor, and felt like my back was breaking in two (I can’t even begin to adequately describe how bad back labor hurt). Jared was amazing for this, and applied counter pressure the whole time, which seemed to be the greatest source of relief.
I guess I didn’t realize what pain does to the body, but one of the side effects of my labor was severe nausea. I puked quite a few times, despite an anti-nausea pill. Poor Jared doesn’t do well with puke (at all), and as I got sick all I could think in my head was “if he so much as gags I am going to deck him”. For his sake I am glad he held it together, and Kenzie stepped in to help and support here (thank you, sis!).
We continued to manage for a few more hours – with my nurse coaching me and calling on me to breathe, Kenzie talking me through contractions, and Jared applying counter pressure to my back. Vanessa popped in to check periodically, and happily reported I was five centimeters dilated. I, on the other hand, was freaking pissed. Only five centimeters dilated?! I thought, “sheesh, this hurts like a you-know-what, and I have FIVE more centimeters to go?! And it took this long for the first five?!”
But, my bitching was cut short by another round of contractions. The great thing about midwives is they are there for YOU. As labor got stronger, Vanessa stayed in the room with us and didn’t leave my side. This was such a comfort – she had been a part of our journey since the beginning. Vanessa got our sense of humor, was practical, and very reassuring throughout my pregnancy. Although I’m not a big fan of doctors or hospitals, since our first prenatal visit we clicked and I felt comfortable with her through the process.
As labor went on my biggest thought was, “I just want this to be over. To be done”. Especially towards the end, I didn’t think I could handle anymore, but it is amazing what your body can do! While I wanted an unmedicated birth, I requested we prep for an epidural, knowing how long it can take to get one. My nurse started my IV (honestly this was almost the most painful part of the entire experience, was a rough stab). Contractions got more and more severe as I waited for the epidural of which I I kept asking about… I think back and it was definitely painful, but more than anything I wanted to know how much longer it was going to take. If I know how long I have to handle something, I can push through. I found that was the most mentally challenging part of labor – not knowing and being at the mercy of the process.
As my labor got more severe I wanted to move less and less. I had envisioned a vertical birth, as I wanted to utilize gravity, and it sounded more comfortable, but ultimately didn’t spend much time vertical. I stayed mostly on my back, despite Vanessa and my nurse, McCray’s, attempts to get me into different positions. With only a little bit of time between contractions I was afraid of being mid-move when one hit. Finally, through much encouragement, they were able to get me back in the shower for a short period of relief. Throughout labor I also used the exercise ball and leaned on the bed (with Jared applying counter pressure), and for a few contractions was in a modified all-fours position. In hindsight I wish I would have listened to their guidance a bit more. My instinct was to lay on my back , but the different positions helped move along and mitigate some of the pain. As I mentioned, back labor was the worst, and the different positions were in attempt to relieve some of that pain. I recall literally writhing in pain through contractions at the end. Not pretty, and I didn’t know it at the time, but we were getting close!
It was through these waves of intense contractions when I also had the strangest almost out-of-body experience – I could hear everyone perfectly clear and I could think logically through what they were saying, but had no desire to talk or respond. I turned completely inward. Which is probably a good thing… who knows what I would have actually said!
At last, we neared 10 centimeters. Just shy at about nine centimeters, the anesthesiologist was finally up on our floor.
…and they ducked in to the other delivery room.
DAMN IT.
Vanessa and McCray explained that I could wait and get an epidural, although I was nearly ready to push and the epidural didn’t help with that, or we could get down to business. I just wanted to be done and it sounded to me like I could wait and suffer longer to get the epidural, which at this point wouldn’t really help me, or I could just do it. If I went for it, the pain would be over sooner and I would get the unmedicated birth I had wanted. So, game on.
With that, Vanessa checked me and said I had a little bit more to dilate, although I was telling her I felt ready to push. She said she could try to manually push my cervix around the baby’s head in my next contraction and we could start pushing, but it would be uncomfortable. I just wanted to get the show on the road so I agreed.
Ha.
Well, it was a bit more painful than I thought and I tried to cow kick Vanessa (oops).
Kicking aside, we were on the home stretch. It is interesting when you get to this point, contractions subside and the pain lifts a bit, all the focus going to pushing with longer breaks in between pushes. I followed Vanessa’s instructions and beared down, pushing into my bottom. Despite pushing with all my heart, I felt like I was getting nowhere. Kenzie, McCray, and Vanessa assured me I was making great progress and hyped me up. After a few pushes Vanessa had me reach down and told me that was the baby’s head and hair – we were almost there. Well, quite literally Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire” was playing on repeat through my head (I wish I was kidding) but I pushed with everything I had. It was then that Vanessa had me reach down and catch as my baby was born.
And there she was. All 6.5 pounds of gushy, sweet baby girl.
About five hours of active labor and about 15 minutes of pushing, she was here. Healthy and working her lungs. They quickly cleared her nose and mouth, Vanessa announced she was a girl, Jared (hesitantly) cut the cord, and Gracie laid on my chest where she latched almost immediately. (She’s an eater!! That’s my girl.)
Still in shock, Kenzie, Jared and I had a moment to breathe and start trying to grasp what we’d just done.
Kenzie stepped out and my mom came in to see her new grandbaby.
With Baby in Arms…
Gracie was born at 2:21 am, and by the time we soaked in our Golden Hour (since it was the middle of the night and quiet, we actually got a little longer!), Jared got skin-to-skin time, I got (very mild) repairs, did all the newborn weighing and measuring it was about 5 am. From water breaking to baby in arms, it had been almost a full 24 hours! Exhausting! And amazing.
At this point I was sore – not wildly uncomfortable, but a bit sore. If I’m going to be honest, since you push through your bottom, I felt like I was just really saddle sore. Since my delivery had been quick and my labor short, I felt as though my physical recovery was minimal. I was under the impression that if you felt good and baby was healthy you could go home as soon as you wanted. So when they got us up to move us to recovery around 6 am, I asked if we could just go home.
Yeah, no. That’s apparently not how it works. The want to monitor you and baby for 24 hours, so we were stuck.
We finally headed home on Friday, after what felt like a month in the hospital. Grace had a bit of jaundice that we had stayed to take care of, and she had a small tongue tie that we had fixed while we were there. Otherwise, it was pretty calm, with lots of family visitors. I have to say, despite wanting to bust out right away, our stay was wonderful. Enloe is such a fabulous hospital and we were so well taken care of. Grace never left our room and we got to settle in and start our journey of learning this tiny little miracle.
Although I would categorize my delivery as being quick and very uncomplicated, it was still a little traumatic. Not in the terrifying sense, but in the holy-hell-what-just-happened sense. It’s only been three months and most of the trauma and scariness has faded, and nothing but amazement and beauty for what I went through is left. I am dumbfounded at how our bodies handle this miracle, and I am so dang thankful for such a positive experience – from the hospital and staff, to Vanessa, to Kenzie and Jared. The amount of love, calmness, and good energy that Grace was born into was incredible.
Beer in a Martini World 