I had my 38 week appointment scheduled on a Tuesday, when I was technically 38.2. It was so hot that day, but I was DOING it. I'd nearly made it through the hottest summer we'd had in years, with a baby in my belly and a toddler in tow-- and the end was near! It's funny, with Noah I was NOT ready to be done being pregnant. I think God was gracious to me this time in making pregnancy much... less enjoyable. This time, all the sickness in the first half and all the discomfort in the second half made it easier to look forward to the day baby would be on the outside. Granted, I still miss a lot of things about being pregnant: the big kicks, all the sweet little wiggles that only I could feel, the belly that made all my clothes look cute, the comments from well-intentioned strangers, the ability to nap when my toddler napped. I do miss those things terribly in hindsight. I knew that I would, but as always you can't truly know until you're there. And now I know.
And now I know I was much more physically uncomfortable than I thought at the end, because the relief of not having a 7 pound 15 ounce baby in my belly was nearly instantaneous. But also, now knowing what I know about being a mom, the love was nearly instantaneous, too. The transition from one body to two still mystifies me beyond my ability to comprehend the magnitude of the miracle. I know its the same baby in there the whole time, but seeing their face for the first time is a whole new world of connection that you don't get even in the most intimate moments of pregnancy.
When I was binge watching Call the Midwife during one of my many illnesses over the winter, this quote stood out to me, "When a child is born, the world is altered in an instant. A new voice is heard, new love comes into being. Years later, we pause and say, 'Yes, that's when it all began, on that day in that room when I saw that face.' Birth is the smallest of magnificent things, and the greatest of little ones." I especially love that both of my babies were born on a Wednesday afternoon in room 3612, both with Vanessa as my doula and Jeane as my Midwife, and Ross as my biggest support, getting his hands squeezed off during the final, most painful contractions.
Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. I had Ross meet Noah and me at the Midwife's office that Tuesday. I wanted to talk through our plans for when labor started. I also had the Midwife check me, even though I know it means nothing (spoiler alert: now I REALLY know it means nothing)! But I thought, at least if I know I'm already dilated to 3-4cm, I have ZERO time to waste when contractions start. However, I was still just at 1cm and maybe 60% effaced. Essentially unchanged from 36 weeks. AND my Braxton-Hicks had even slowed down in the past week. So I left that appointment feeling really calm. Almost like I'd bought myself another week of pregnancy or something. I made plans to swim laps that weekend and finish the thank-yous from my baby shower. I also texted my Aunt Karen three different contingency plans based on our discussion with the Midwife. My aunt lives about 35 minutes away, and she was our top choice for watching Noah when labor started. Plan A was for her to come to our house when contractions kicked in. Plan B, if labor started at 7 or 8am, was for us to drop Noah off at his friend Alex's house on our way to the hospital, and my aunt would get him there after morning rush hour. Plan C was for us to meet my aunt at the hospital, with Noah in tow.
Plan D, apparently, was for my water to break and NOTHING to happen. Tuesday evening, a mere 5 hours after leaving the Midwife's office with new peace of mind, my water broke out of nowhere, with nary a contraction in sight. Not only did we have time for my aunt to make her way to our house, we also had time to eat dinner, tuck Noah in, take a short walk, AND greet my mom after her three hour drive from Omaha! Six hours after my water broke, I still wasn't having contractions-- just some uncomfortable cramping. Per the Midwife's recommendations, we headed into the hospital for intermittent monitoring overnight.
Now, this shook me up. It was perhaps less stressful than waiting for my aunt to arrive through painful contractions and precipitous labor, but it was incredibly stressful to me, given that it wasn't even in the realm of possibilities in my mind. I'd done this before: started labor on my own and progressed entirely normally and naturally. Why on EARTH would my body not remember how to do this a mere three years later?!
I don't know that I even really let my guard down to weep about it, but I should have. It might have made the long night less unpleasant. Instead, I held it all in with only occasional tears of frustration slipping out. Our wait in triage was anticlimactic and I was antsy to get into a room. But then the labor bed was shockingly uncomfortable-- clearly not made for sleep. And being monitored for 20 minutes out of every hour made sleep nearly impossible. Ross slept from about 0200-0500 in a nearby chair, and I slept-ish for about 20 minutes around 0400, I think. In hindsight, I should've just asked for continuous monitoring so the nurse wasn't coming and going every 30 minutes, but I craved those last few intervals of freedom. I knew that once the pitocin started (because even when we left our house, I knew it was WHEN and not IF they needed to start pitocin), I WOULD be on the monitor continuously. Until then, I wanted to walk down the hallway unhampered, with my hand on my belly, and feel those sweet kicks just a few more times.
At 0525 Wednesday morning, I took a lonely, tearful, bittersweet lap around the maternity floor, trying to wrap my head around what was to come. Sarah, the Midwife on call, came to check on me right after that walk. She'd been texting me through the night, which was a great comfort when I otherwise felt pretty alone and confused. I'm so grateful to her-- and to the fact that we used to work together at New Birth Company. Otherwise I certainly wouldn't have been texting with her like any old friend. But it was comforting to do that and not have to go through the answering service or the L and D nurses. She checked me and said that a night of cramping, walking, and tossing and turning had maybe nudged me to a 2-3cm and 80%. I think that was optimistic, given that an hour previous, the nurse had said I was still at a "loose 1cm." BUT this check got things moving a bit. More importantly, Sarah sat down and prayed with us, that God the Good Mechanic would give us peace that He knows how my body works, and that He is in control. We loved that.
Then Sarah went home and they had to monitor me for an hour before starting pitocin-- I actually started having some minor contractions during that hour. Then they started "a whiff" of pitocin at 0715 (2gtts/hour) and I think I tried to rest and do some Bible study for a bit. Romans 15:13 really stood out to me for the last few weeks of pregnancy, and while I was waiting for labor to start: "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you amy overflow with hope by the power of the holy spirit." (Made more poignant by the fact that Hope, along with Anne and Rose, was one of our top name choices.)
They turned the pitocin up to 4gtts/hour around 0830, and at 0850 I texted my doula, Vanessa, "contractions are such that I'd be paying attention if I were at home." They weren't really painful yet, but they felt like actual contractions with a start and stop time, compared to just cramping.
Basically right after that text, Vanessa walked into the room and I was SO happy to see her! With Noah, we were escorted from the office to L and D and were never alone in the room thereafter-- it was a crazy 4 hours from 6cm to delivery, and my Midwife and doula were there the whole time. This time, we had to hurry up and WAIT which was unnerving. I'm so grateful we opted for a doula again, because once we saw her, she never left our sight until baby was born. Jeane, my Midwife, came in at some point in the morning, maybe when I was first getting into the tub? But then she left again for clinic, which was a little disheartening.
That first hour with Vanessa, I bounced on a birth ball and we chatted, I snacked, it was all pretty good. But things picked up QUICKLY after that. I don't think they ever turned the pitocin up again, and in fact at some point I think they turned it off, but once contractions started they were immediately painful! At the time, I thought it was because of the pitocin, but Sarah reminded me that I'd been awake all night, so I was already tired and my threshold was probably a bit lower. Then at my 2 week postpartum appointment, Jeane reminded me that I was contracting for my ENTIRE labor without a cushion of amniotic fluid! Last time my water didn't break until 7cm, which was a whole different ballgame! This time I didn't really get to ease into them. But just like last time, the tub felt incredible.
Laboring in the tub was good, but the intensity was still a little unnerving. Last time I remembered having these glorious breaks in between contractions, but this time they felt much closer together from the get-go. Last time, I made a labor playlist but didn't even get it out of my bag. This time, I had nothing prepared, but thankfully I'd charged and brought my old phone and we turned on my Worship playlist. The only songs I really remember hearing are "Lay My Burdens Down," which was really meaningful to me at this exact time last year, and "Good, Good Father" which was really meaningful to me the year before, when I was battling PPD while trying to wrap my head around a surprise pregnancy and subsequent miscarriage. The other song I took note of was, "Lo, He Comes with Clouds Descending," which is a bit of a Christmas song in my head, but is a good reminder of how powerful God is. Of course, even the details of my little labor wouldn't escape him. He'd always known how this would go, and he had a reason for it.
Once I got out of the tub, I have no concept of time. I'm so curious to see Vanessa's timeline when she does my postpartum home visit, because it all starts to blend together for me. I just remember being anxious because everyone said I was getting close, yet the Midwife was nowhere to be seen, so how could I be THAT close? And if I wasn't THAT close, I couldn't possibly continue at this level of intensity. Even when she did get there to check me, I remember saying, "If I'm not at least 8cm, I want an epidural." I was only at 7cm when she checked me! I was devastated until Vanessa reminded me that I'd essentially gone from something like 3cm to 7cm in two hours, which might explain why it felt so miserable. But still, I was disheartened. I was laying in bed by that time, and I just felt overwhelmingly fatigued between every contraction. Like if they'd been even a little farther apart, I could've taken a cat nap then and there. Instead, they kept coming and coming and I swore I did NOT remember labor hurting this bad, and that I wanted an epidural next time, since clearly no one was going to take my request seriously this time. (Disclaimer: I had the baby less than an hour after asking for an epidural, so my birth team wasn't being cruel and ignoring me. They simply knew that I didn't actually have time to get an epidural that would do me an ounce of good.)
Probably less than 20 (miserable, nauseating, light-headed) contractions after saying that, I felt the urge to push, which I never really had last time. As with pregnancy, I know God was there in that moment: instead of being in denial and afraid to actively move to the next stage, I was beyond READY to be done with labor and to have that baby in my arms! So push I did.
And then suddenly, it was over, and she was here. Our sweet summer Rose. She stayed in my arms while I got stitched up, and I was unbelievably glad to be holding her. After it was all said and done, Jeane told me that baby sister had a true knot in her cord. She let me look at the placenta, and I untied that slippery knot with one hand while holding my healthy baby in the other and whispering a prayer of thanks for her safety.
In hindsight, even the PROM and the need for pitocin (therefore continuous monitoring) was a gift from God for my anxious heart. True knots can lead to fetal distress and even fetal demise in labor. Since I was monitored for every minute of active labor, we know that the baby handled it like a champ, for which I'm unbelievably grateful! (Grateful for both the knowledge, and the fact that she handled everything without distress.)
(It's funny, I actually did have some anxiety about nuchal cords and true knots mid-pregnancy. I spent a week or so visualizing the baby untangling herself as she flipped head-down. And once she seemed to settle head-down I was less worried about it. But I did ask at my 37 week appointment if nuchal cords or true knots could be seen on ultrasound. Jeane said maybe, but what would you do about it? Also at that appointment, I said it felt like one or both of baby's hands were above her head, and Jeane said she'd likely move them before birth. Except she came out with her left hand saluting us, which may explain the fact that my contractions didn't start when my water broke. Hand-above-head isn't terribly conducive to good positioning. Finally, Jeane asked me at that appointment if this baby felt bigger or smaller. Even though I gained exactly 30 pounds with both kids, I said this one felt bigger. Sure enough, she was almost half a pound bigger even though she was two days earlier than Noah was! It's nice to know my intuition was correct all along!)
We asked for permission for early hospital discharge once we got to postpartum. We'd already spent one night in the hospital before she came, so spending two more felt like a lot. That being said, the one night we did spend with Rosie (well, "baby sister" because we hadn't chosen a name yet) was really sweet. Per our doula's recommendation, we actually didn't set an alarm for feedings that night. All I had to do was sleep, feed a baby, and sleep some more. She woke herself up every 3-4 hours, let out one cry, and waited for me to get her out of the bassinet. She'd nurse for 20-30 minutes and fall immediately back to sleep. It was glorious, and the postpartum bed even felt comfortable after a night in a labor bed! I'm so happy we get so experience those newborn wiggles, sighs, snuggles, and smells again!
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