Not a November baby

On the day I was supposed to be due, and a week after the birth of my second son, I am posting our birth story.  As this is a birth story, proceed at your own desire....

I've spent the majority of this pregnancy convincing myself that I was going to go overdue. Even though my due date was October 27th, I announced that Drew was going to be a big brother in November. After having gone 12 frustrating days past my due date with Drew, I knew it was better to be mentally prepared for a late baby than an early one.

Even as such, however, I found myself hoping baby #2 would come sooner rather than later. Everything was getting hard; my back and hips were hurting so badly and I was so exhausted that work and taking care of a toddler were becoming almost impossible. About a week ago I announced to Jason "I'm having this baby on Sunday!". I had a baby shower at work on the upcoming Friday, and a church one on Sunday, and Stacey, my "doula", was going to be out of town until Sunday afternoon. I figured if I went into labor late on Sunday, everything would work out perfectly and I wouldn't have to go to work on Monday! Jason smiled and said "remember, this is a November baby". 

My plan for the weekend was to get lots of rest. Earlier in the week the whole family, including myself, had caught a stomach bug. That had left me drained. On top of that my sinuses and chest were starting to feel congested. I woke up earlier than I wanted on Saturday, but was thankful that Drew decided to sleep in so I got to lounge in bed. (I posted on Facebook: It's almost 9am and my child is still sleeping. Crazy! Too bad I woke up at 7:30. I am enjoying hanging out in bed, though.) I felt really good. My back and hips didn't hurt like normal. I felt rested. My congestion seemed to have cleared. That should have been a sign.

While making breakfast I started to feel "twinges". I had been feeling them on and off all week so it didn't seem like a big deal. I ignored them and ate breakfast with Drew. After a while, however, I was starting to get annoyed by the crampy feeling. "I feel weird" I told Jason. I started timing the "twinges" just to see what was going on, and sure enough I was having cramps about 7 minutes apart; some 5 minutes apart, but none longer than 12 minutes apart. That scared Jason a little, but I was convinced it was a sign of false labor. There was no way I could be awake for 2 hours with nothing, then all of a sudden have contractions that close together. On top of it all, I was still a week away from the due date. "Well, I don't exactly want to birth a baby at home," he told me, "how do you know if they're real contractions or false labor?" I told him false labor contractions don't have a pattern and often disappear when you change activities. There didn't seem to be a pattern yet, at least, and only time would tell if they would die off or keep going.

Jason had a big tournament at work; staying home for false labor wasn't really an option, nor was going in to work late, so we decided he would go to work, but be by the phone in case I decided he needed to come home. In the meantime I tried a few things to see what would happen. I laid on the couch. Nothing changed. I took a hot shower. Nothing changed. At this point I started texting my mom and Stacey saying I was pretty sure it was nothing, but just wanted to give them a heads up. I took Drew to get his haircut (boy needs to look nice if his brother is actually on the way, I decided). Still nothing changed. As the hair stylist lifted Drew out of the chair for me, saying that she didn't want me to go into labor there, I laughed thinking to myself, "I think I already am!"

By the time we got home from getting Drew's haircut I was changing my mind about things. Nothing had made the "twinges" go away, and they were getting a little more intense. I told Jason it was time to come home and texted my mom and Stacey that I was pretty sure this wasn't false labor. Stacey packed up and headed out from North Carolina (I still feel bad that she left!) and my parents decided to hit the road from Chicago as well. 

The afternoon passed with me packing up a few last minute things, resting, snacking, etc. while Drew napped. By the time Drew woke up at 4:00 contractions were getting to be 3-4 minutes apart. That seemed awfully close, but I had called my midwife who told me to pay more attention to intensity rather than frequency  I was still able to talk through them so I wasn't too concerned, but we decided it was time to start making our way to the hospital since it was a 45 minute drive away and we had to drop Drew off as well. I asked Jason to snap one last belly photo....

39 weeks exactly

Then Drew and I said some good byes. Tears started pouring from my eyes as I realized it was the last time we'd be together as a family of 3. Drew made the waterworks even heavier by deciding he wanted to give his baby brother a good bye hug too.

We were on our way to the hospital by 4:30. Even though contractions weren't unbearable yet, I was starting to feel nauseous and I didn't want to repeat my hospital hallway puking performance that I did with Drew. When we arrived we were asked to wait a few moments while they found space for me. Generally you check in and go to triage where they "make sure" you are in active labor; I guess they had no triage rooms available so I had to wait. Unfortunately they had no waiting area, no chairs, and I was forced to sit on my birth ball by the check-in counter while they figured out what to do. Thankfully my midwife, Julie, happened to be at the counter. She came and rubbed my back for a few moments. The nurses asked "do you think she's staying?" and Julie replied "oh yeah, she's having a baby today" so the nurses whisked me off to a regular room.

By 6:15 I was fully checked in. Stacey had arrived all the way from North Carolina, and my midwife checked my cervix and stated that I was a "stretchy" 5-6 cm dilated and 90% effaced. She left me to my business and it wasn't long before I threw up. I tried various positions to cope- bouncing on the birth ball, standing leaning over the bed while Jason used counter-pressure on my hips, sitting on the bed leaning on the ball...

I was staring at my birth bracelet here remembering the blessings

View of the Atlanta skyline from our room

I was coping pretty well until my back began hurting. Contractions were getting intense and I was starting to get tired. I was getting to the point that I just didn't know what I wanted to do anymore. Around 7:40 I decided to lay in bed for a while, even though laying in bed is, in general, the opposite of what I wanted to do during labor (gravity and movement help move labor along more quickly, one of the reasons I wanted to avoid an epidural). I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed, but even as such the nurse noted in her computer that there was "no distress observed".

Around 8:00 the nurse announced that the birthing pool was ready. A water birth was something that the midwifery practice and hospital I chose offered, and one of the reasons I chose them in the first place despite the "risky" drive into Atlanta (normally a 45 minute drive, but if we were to have hit rush hour it could have been a completely different story). I hadn't fully decided if it was something I wanted to do, though. When I first arrived I told the nurses I didn't, but when asked by my midwife I decided I'd at least like to have the option. Sure enough, when the nurse announced that the pool was ready I nearly jumped right in. I was ready to try something different.

I started to ease myself into the warm water. It was quite hot so I was trying to get in slowly, but a contraction hit and I sunk right in and was instantly happy I'd made the choice to get in the water.  I could feel every single muscle in my body relax. My mood changed from serious and withdrawn to happy and talkative. Stacey noted that I started joking and smiling. It wasn't long before another contraction hit and I almost wanted to laugh at how different it felt; it still wasn't comfortable, but it was so much more manageable.

One of the reasons I wasn't sure I wanted to get in a birth pool is that I'd read that you can get so relaxed in the water that labor can stop completely. That definitely wasn't the case. By 8:30 contractions were 2-3 minutes apart but I was still coping well. I looked at Stacey and told her "next time... you MUST do this!" My only complaint was that the water was making me very hot. The nurse got me a tub of ice water and a wash cloth. I used the cloth to wipe my face between contractions, and often rested my forehead on it during contractions. It was perfect.

Feeling good enough to nibble
I made Jason give me the whole cracker at once so I wouldn't
feel like I was floating in chicken soup with cracker crumbs

Around 9:00 I began feeling a slight urge to bear down. The contractions were starting to get very intense again. I decided I wanted to have my water broken and "get the show on the road". We called Julie, and she obliged, but she warned me that once the water was broken I was probably going to be in "hot labor". She asked if I wanted to birth in the water. I had known from the beginning that, even if I got in the tub, I didn't want to actually birth in the water; at that point, however, I was so happy in the tub there was nothing getting me out. And once my water was broken there was no changing my mind anyway.

At 9:10 Julie broke my water and I felt an instant, overwhelming, and uncontrollable urge to push. I got on my knees and rested my head on the edge of the tub and pushed as hard as I could. It seemed almost instantly I was declaring "it's burning!" a sign that the baby was crowning. The midwife told me to reach down and feel his head. I had a short break between contractions during which I felt absolutely miserable; with Drew I had been falling asleep in between pushing contractions, but this time all I could think was that I wanted the baby out. On the next contraction I pushed and felt his head emerge. My midwife guided me to push slowly, and one more push later, at 9:19 pm, James was born. I grabbed him myself, pulled him between my legs and up and out of the water. I rested back on the edge of the tub and reveled in my amazingly soft, snuggly new baby.

I will never EVER underestimate the power of warm water again. And as if the comfort and relaxation wasn't enough, I didn't tear! That, in and of itself, made it all worth it. I only needed a few stitches with Drew, but it was still so horribly uncomfortable to deal with after the fact. With a toddler in the house already, it's so nice to be able to get up, down, and around easily.

James definitely didn't appear to be an "early" baby at 8 lbs. 8 oz., and 20 1/2 inches long. He was alert and happy to nurse. And even though he decided to come a lot earlier than I expected, and even a day earlier than I "wanted", everything worked out perfectly, and I can only thank God for my answered prayers. Even as Stacey jokingly reminded me not to have the baby over the weekend while she was gone, we both acknowledged that God would choose the date that James needed to arrive; He did and I am so blessed.