September 3, 2014.
A date that had real meaning for the past 10 months of my life. In other words: my due date. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I have an almost one month old now (it should be noted, I started this at a week...phew, two kids is no joke in regards to getting anything done!) and at the aforementioned date, I had a 2.5 week old. As much as I hated being pregnant, I have had a hard time with the fact that I gave birth so much earlier than anticipated and spent the last couple of weeks of August not being pregnant. I kept thinking "I should still be pregnant now." And I still had so much to do... what, I don't know, because somehow we've been fine the past few weeks without getting those "things" done. How messed up is that? Obviously, I wouldn't change anything, but it's been quite the mind shift from thinking I would be pregnant to definitely not being pregnant and adjusting to a new normal. Frankly, I knew I'd never make it to my due date. Owen was a week early so I figured that I'd have the baby at the end of August sometime. I really thought that I would deliver the last week of August. My only goals were to a) have the baby on a date other than August 19 (Owen's birthday and our wedding anniversary) and b) get through Owen's second birthday party on August 17.... Only one of these things was accomplished.
And here's the story.
Backing up: August 14, 2014. I had had some crazy false labor a couple of times, but on this night it was pretty bad. I was having consistent contractions, was pooping my guts out at 2 in the morning (sign of impending labor) and, as such, was completely freaked out. I ended up being awake from 2-5am thinking I was for sure in labor but eventually it all died down. I had seen the midwives a couple days prior and they told me the "head was in the chute" so I knew I was getting close. I kept telling myself I was still a couple weeks out, but subconsciously, in retrospect, I think I knew it was much closer. I wrapped up everything the best I could at work that week, and felt compelled to update everyone on where my projects were "just in case." I had a few moments where I remember thinking "I might not be here next week." [Little did I know... or again, maybe deep down I did know]. Sadly I left before my office was completely remodeled and I think they did my block first thinking they'd beat my departure!
August 15, 2014: Justin and I spent a good chunk of the afternoon getting ready for Owen's approaching party on Sunday the 17th. We ran to costco, cleaned the house (Justin was wrapping up some of the construction projects), ran a few other errands for last minute items. I felt really good and started to believe that I would actually make it through Owen's party. We had a good guest list (about 30 people), so we were really excited for the party.
August 16, 2014: Justin worked in the morning and Owen and I got out to run the last couple of errands for pre-party prep. Funny enough, Owen had my phone while in the car and captured a picture of me driving:
I remember feeling so exhausted. I was trying to just do as few errands as possible given that I was hugely pregnant, it was hot, and I had toddler in tow. Not an easy combo by any stretch, but I was tired beyond tired in a way I hadn't felt in quite some time even given the circumstances. I wanted to go get a tea at Ladro in the hopes that the caffeine would help (hey, they baby was cooked and at that point there was no shame in having a tea a day) but I was pushing Owen's nap time and it wasn't worth it. So we grabbed a tea at PCC while we were there buying some things for Owen's cake I was going to make later that day. I kept pushing to try to get past the hump of tired-ness because I knew there was a lot to get done for the next day. Plus, I hadn't slept bad at all so I couldn't figure out why I was so wiped... I remember thinking how annoying this was. Something about the fact that I was so pregnant and probably draining my body kept escaping my mind.
We came home and got Owen in bed for a nap and Justin got home from work. He started in on finishing some of the crown molding, and I helped out with some of the construction stuff around the house as well - sanding the base and case to prep for the final paint since we had it mostly up (our goal for the party). When Owen woke up, Owen and I made cupcakes and his cake. We kept moving and doing things to get ready for the party and I remember around 7pm (right after dinner and Owen's bath), I told Justin, "we are done. I am done. I need to just sit." I couldn't fathom doing one thing more and I was just spent. I decided I did not care at that point what the house looked like for the following day, but I just needed to sit and relax. At that point, I sat on my butt at the kitchen table and decorated Owen's truck birthday cake at the table. I remember thinking how uncomfortable I was and also how LOW the baby was. Literally felt like the kid was going to fall out of me. Apparently, he practically was.
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At around 9:15 we were in bed and finally crashed out around 9:45pm. I was in a dead sleep at 10:45 pm when I woke up (rudely, I might add) to a feeling of complete wetness in the bed. My first thought was that I was so tired that I had pissed myself. To be totally honest, I then uttered a four letter word and then I got up to go to the bathroom. This was when I had the gut wrenching realization that mass amounts of liquid was still involuntarily coming out of me and there was absolutely nothing I could do to control it. I sat down to pee, and while peeing, more came gushing out and it was not out of my pee hole. I sat there in our bathroom that needs to be remodeled (because who wants to WATCH themselves sit on the pot, seriously) and saw in the mirror SO much liquid coming out and thought, quite frankly, "OH HOLY SHIT." I walked to the other bathroom to try to figure out what was going on and still was just gushing liquid. Somehow this logic made sense- as if another bathroom would offer more insight. It didn't. I took off my pants to hold up to my hoo-hoo to capture it all and within seconds, they were soaked through (though they had already been soaked, so this was a futile effort). Eventually I had the brilliant idea to grab a depends, which I had on hand for post delivery, in an effort to capture all the fluid. I also realized at that point that this was definitely my water breaking, so I woke up Justin and told him "I think my water just broke."
I was shaking beyond belief.
I was in disbelief that this was actually happening... On two fronts- I wasn't quite mentally ready for labor to happen right then and also, I mean, COME ON! Everything was ready for Owen's party and I just had to make it a few more hours. Plus, I was tired and wanted to sleep AND I wasn't even having contractions. What the hell?
I also had it in my head (quite ignorantly) that this labor/delivery would be exactly like Owen's. With Owen, my water didn't break until I was pushing at which point it burst across the room. So I was not even considering the fact that my water could break this time around. It was the first indication that this labor would be much, much different than Owen's.
After a call to the midwives, it was confirmed that we would be having a baby that night. They said to expect contractions to start within 1 to 5 hours and to call them when they were consistent. At that point I tried to calm the hell down because I was still shaking uncontrollably. For some reason I thought that the baby would come when I was good and ready for it to come and this was NOT the time that I had prepared for. Funny how ignorant that sounds now. We made a few phone calls to the nanny who would be coming to take care of Owen once we went in to the midwives- either sleeping at our place until the morning or grabbing him in the morning if we made it through the night at home. We also called our moms to alert them that baby was on the way shortly. We then sat in bed and tried to wrap our heads around what was happening... as in there would be a real live new baby in our lives pretty soon. For some reason we said that we would take more pictures of this labor/delivery, so we started by taking a couple of selfies while we were sitting there in bed:
And then, we just waited for the contractions to start. In the meantime, I told Justin to get some sleep because there was no way he was going to survive a labor on an hour of sleep... neither would I. I tried to sleep as well. Justin slept for about 2-3 hours and I probably got 1.5 hours of sleep. My contractions did start up pretty quickly, probably an hour after my water broke. They were about 5 minutes apart from the get go. Nothing too intense, but I was just wired on hormones and adrenaline at that point. As such, it was practically impossible to sleep, as much as I knew I needed to. At around 2:45 I started to get a little freaked out that the baby would come really fast. Everyone kept telling us this would probably be the case because Owen was a really pretty short delivery (we were in labor for probably 18 hours with him, but most of that- probably 14 hours- was easy labor). We were only at the midwives for 2 hours before he was born. As a result, I was totally freaked that we would be having a baby in the car since we live further out this time around. Since my contractions were consistently 4 minutes apart at this point, I figured we should probably get moving to be better safe than sorry. We called the midwives back and the told us to meet them at the birth center at 3:45am. We also texted the nanny who said she would be right over as well. (And sidenote: we seriously have the BEST nanny/caregiver EVER. She is like all of our second mom, and definitely an extension of our family. We love her and her family so much!)
We threw a bunch of stuff in our bag that was mostly packed, but not totally so, and then sent out emails/texts to cancel Owen's party as it was becoming glaringly obvious that there was no way we'd make that happen in a few hours as we'd either just be home with a newborn or still at the birth center (turns out I gave birth about 45 minutes before the party was supposed to start...). I was so sad. We had put a lot of work in to it, and I just wanted him to have a party. I know that he won't even remember and the plan was to reschedule, but still, my heart just felt broken because I didn't want to rain on his parade. In the midst of all the commotion, Owen woke up and was calling out for mama. I went in there and grabbed him to rock him back to sleep and let him know everything was ok. It is hard enough to try to hold a rather large and lengthy two year old at 9 months pregnant, but it is even more challenging to do so through contractions. Phew! I sat there rocking him and singing to him and simultaneously tears were just streaming down my cheeks. Not from the contractions, but I couldn't help but think that this was the last time I'd rock him as my "only" baby... there is something that will never take the place of a first born, and I just wanted to hold on to that little special time forever before all our worlds were changed by the new little person trying to enter the world. I could barely pull it together but also didn't want to let him know I was so emotional, because I knew he wouldn't go back to sleep. I just buried myself in him and held him tightly, and eventually got him back down (though I guess he was up a few times with the nanny after that, so he knew something weird was going on).
We drove in to Kirkland and made comments about how our fears of me going in to labor during rush hour did not come to fruition. No traffic to worry about at 3am! It was a really peaceful summer evening. Heike, our midwife, met us there and led us to our room- a different room than the room we had Owen in. Apparently the night prior to the night we were there, the birth center was completely full and they had to divert people to home births! On that night, we were the only people there. They got us settled in the room (a different room than the one Owen was born in)- candles were lit, tub was filled- and took some vitals on the baby and I. My contractions had slowed down a little bit so we decided to go for a walk. This was particularly interesting as Justin was literally ONE DAY out of the boot for his torn calf muscle, so walking was still a little challenging for him. But, it got my contractions going so he did it. He was a serious trooper. At 4am, the sun was not up yet but the sky was starting to lighten. It was cool outside but really rather nice- a summer night for sure. Other than having to stop for contractions every few minutes, it was actually really a treat to have that time with Justin to talk and to walk.
We came back to the birth center about a half an hour later, as they wanted to check the vitals every half an hour or so. After that we walked some more. I remember thinking, "I have to walk otherwise, I'm going to just pass out." By then the adrenaline had worn off and the contractions weren't intense enough to boost the other hormones, so I was just wiped since I'd only had about 2.5 hours of sleep in 24 hours. So we kept walking... and walking... and walking. Justin jokes now that we probably walked a marathon that morning. It's entirely possible.
Around 8am, my contractions were about 2-3 minutes apart when walking but 4-5 minutes apart when we were back in the room. Kind of annoying. But we were both getting a little hungry, and I think Justin's leg was sore so we stayed in the room just hanging out and made some oatmeal. One thing that we did not adequately plan for this time around was snacks. We did bring a bunch but just nothing too substantial- vega protein mix, vega protein bars, trail mix, oatmeal, bananas- but we probably should have packed some more. Last time (with Owen), we packed probably a whole fridge worth of stuff and didn't need any of it so I think we just thought we wouldn't need that much. Wrong. We survived but after eating your weights worth in trail mix and oatmeal, it's kind of gross. At that point, we were just hanging out on the couch in the room and I kept drifting off to sleep between contractions. I was so tired. I remember I kept feeling horrible about the fact that this was taking so long and that we had come in too early. I felt really bad for bringing the midwives in so early just to wait around. I know logically that we made the right decision because you just don't know and plus that kind of IS their job, but right then, I just felt awful about it. I had to really let that go by the end of the whole labor process and realize that this labor WAS much different than Owen's and it wasn't going to be over in two hours upon our arrival at the birth center.
A couple of pictures of me sleeping between contractions courtesy of Justin:
At around 9:30 or 10am, after a few short naps, my contractions started to pick up. Thank goodness because we kept getting calls/texts from people who thought we should have already had the baby by then (as if we wouldn't call once he/she was born!). NOPE NO BABY. At this point, I thought we were in the home stretch. I felt like the contractions were getting much closer together and more intense. We'd gone on a couple more walks prior to this time, and had to stop much more often for contractions (even eliciting a lady to ask if I was ok), so I figured that the baby would arrive within the hour. Heike even commented that the contractions seemed more intense.
However, by 11am, I realized that my contractions were completely slowed down. What the heck?! The midwives came to check on me around 11:15 and I told them that the contractions had slowed for some reason to 12-15 minutes between each one. So disappointing. They decided at that point to check me out to see a) how much I was dilated and b) what the hell was going on. Midwives don't typically check you to see how far along you are dialated, unless you really want them to and so far I hadn't seen a point. The baby kept sounding great so there was no concerns there, but it was odd that contractions had completely puttered out so getting checked at this point was warranted.
I was worried when they checked me that I would be at 3cm dilated or something ridiculous and disheartening. But, thank god, I was 7cm dilated and they confirmed that it was indeed my water that had broken (duh). YES! At least I knew I was close. However, they said that it felt like the baby was posterior (meaning face facing my bum versus face up) and he was cock eyed in the birth canal. They wanted to do some natural "induction" (where as in the hospital they'd put you on pitocin) to get the contractions to pick up again. To do this, they wanted to give me a castor oil concoction mix. I really didn't want to do this because I am a freak and was scared it would make me barf (and those of you who know me know that this is just not ok). So instead, I decided that we were going to go for another walk and see if we could speed things up again and evaluate after that. After the walk, it was probably around noon at this point and my contractions had sped up to 2 minutes apart again... thank goodness. It may at that point have been the power of my mind saying that my body better start to move along! We got back to the birth center with the good news that the contractions were back up and operating.
However, due to the positioning of the baby, the midwives still wanted to do some alternative treatments to get the baby to move- alternative treatments meaning homeopathic remedies and positioning. If this didn't work, we'd do the castor oil mix to get the baby to move. Every 10 minutes I took the homeopathics for a while... I started to lose track of time at this point, which is always an indication that you are in transition (IE: really close to delivery).
Midcontraction: please don't use this photo as blackmail.
Shortly after the above picture, the midwives moved me on to the bed on my left side with my right leg crossed over and up. Apparently this is a position that helps the baby flip around. They had me in this position for a while, and after one contraction in this position, things started to get REALLY intense. As in, I was completely primal at this point and had no concept of what was around me, what time it was, or anything of the sort- I was just trying to make it through each contraction and when I wasn't having contractions, I was just lying there with my eyes closed getting ready for the next.
After several contractions like this, the midwives moved me in to a hands/knees position on the bed. Again, it's a position that helps the baby flip, although judging by the intensity of the contractions in the prior position, the baby had already done so. I think I lasted for two contractions on my hands and knees before I pleaded to let them have me try to push. I was ready.
They got out the birthing stool, as this was how I had delivered Owen and I thought that gravity would be helpful. I started to push but it wasn't feeling totally "right" yet. So, the midwife checked me mid contraction to see where the baby was. Apparently my cervix was still just barely on his head, so each contraction after that, she put her hand up and tried to get the cervix to move the last little tiny bit. Let me just say: GOD AWFUL. I can't even adequately describe how awful this was other than to say that at this point if I had been offered a c-section right then and there, I would have probably seriously considered taking it if it meant she wouldn't reach up my hoo hoo to try to move my cervix anymore (and that is saying something to those of you who know how opposed I would be to a c-section, barring any necessity to do so, of course). After a few rounds of that hell- contraction and trying to get the cervix moved, I was done. I remember saying/bawling, "NO MORE." I think at that point, I was ready to throw in the towel and just wanted the baby out if it meant that she wasn't going to try to move my cervix anymore during contractions. WORST THING EVER.
The midwives then suggested that we try the tub. I was a little hesitant as I had HATED the tub with Owen, but, again, this labor was nothing like Owen's so I'm not totally sure why I kept holding on to that. I was so done at this point that I didn't even have strength to argue, so we walked over there and got in. Immediately, I wanted to get out but then right after that, I felt the huge urge to push and with the next contraction started really pushing and knew that the baby would be here soon. I was holding myself up in the tub because I could feel the head... they kept telling me to sit down but I kept thinking "NO WAY, I am going to smash the baby!" (Also: because I held myself up all weird my back was sore in a serious way for the following week... good idea for Justin as a workout!) I want to say I went through probably 5 more contractions in the tub, pushing each time. I kept asking how much longer, and kept feeling him get closer and closer. I remember hearing "Oh the head is right there!" and feeling the head come out. At one point, I looked down and realized I had pooped in the water. Bah. Happens to probably 90% of women that go through labor, but didn't happen with Owen, so it was one of those moments where all of your dignity is gone. Really embarrassing but can't say I really cared much at that point, although I do remember apologizing which Justin laughed at.
Justin told me at this point, I was just primal- yelling, pushing, working so hard. He said it was to the point where he felt so helpless because I was working so hard and in pain, that he was bawling his eyes out. He was behind me and I had no idea what he was doing this point other than holding on to me. A short note: my husband is seriously amazing. He's the only person, other than me, that knows exactly what labor looked like for me, and he was my biggest supporter through it all. The times when I thought I couldn't do it anymore- he said I could. The times when I just needed to hold on to someone- he was there. Giving birth takes you to your very last limit, but I'd almost venture to say it is just as hard on the husbands. They really are pretty helpless, but give 110% of themselves. I do not know how I would have done any of this without Justin by my side. I would say that I love him more because of the role he played in the birth of our boys.
After a really short time of pushing- probably 10-15 minutes max- baby Bennett Bo was born at 1:17pm. We sat there for a couple of minutes and realized, "oh, we should see if it's a boy or girl." So I lifted him up (we were still connected by the cord) and saw that it was indeed a baby boy. Unlike his brother, Bennett didn't come out screaming. He eventually cried a little bit, but nothing like his big brother who started screaming before he was out of the birth canal... and is still a screamer to this day. And Bennett still continues to be a very mellow, content babe.
I handed him off to Justin after Justin cut the cord, and then birthed the placenta just a few minutes later.
The midwives then helped me to climb out of the tub and do a quick rinse before heading to the bed to cuddle my new sweet little boy. He nursed like a champ right away!
We cuddled for a while and nursed before the midwives came back in to check my bleeding (very minimal) and to do all the stats on baby B. He was measured at 8 pounds 7 oz and 20 inches long, and had great stats- very healthy kiddo. There is some debate as to whether or not he was really 20 inches as at his two week appointment he was already 22 inches, so the doctor thinks he probably squirmed and was actually 21 inches at birth. Who knows.
I ate a couple more packs of oatmeal (I was STARVING), we got some instructions from the midwives, and then around 3:45 pm (about 12 hours after arriving at the birth center), we headed home with our new little bundle. But not before taking a few photos first:
We got home around 4:30pm and immediately took a nap. Babies tend to sleep for around 7 hours after they are first born and Bennett was no exception- in fact, he slept pretty much until 4pm the NEXT day. We had to wake him up to have him eat- again, pretty big indication of his overall demeanor! I was able to get a nap for about 1-1.5 hours, and then the gal that encapsulates my placenta came by to pick it up (more on that in another post or feel free to message me- I SWEAR by it). I then decided to take a shower while Justin and B were still sleeping and messaged/called everyone waiting to hear the news, that may not have already heard. I also sent out a bunch of emails alerting everyone at work that I had the baby early. I took another short nap around 7pm and then Justin made me dinner around 8pm. I ate what was probably a 50 pound sandwich... I was still ravenous. A little later Oliver came in to meet Baby B (Owen would meet him the next day, as we thought it made most sense to keep him at the nanny's so we could all ease in).
We went to bed around 10pm, and like I said, we had to actually wake up Baby B every 3-4 hours to make him eat because he was just sleeping away and couldn't have cared less. He's turned out to be a very easy, mellow baby and has been a good sleeper from the start. There is something so special about the first hours (and day) at home with a new baby. It is bittersweet, because you know that it is such a short time before time moves on and the memory isn't as fresh.
Labor takes you to the breaking point, and the hormones after make the memory of all the yucky parts all go away... I honestly remember it as being painful, but I also think of it as something that I would do again tomorrow if I could. It is the most amazing experience that I've ever lived through and I wish I could experience the emotions of it all over and over again. You realize the strength of yourself, strengths that you didn't know you even had the capacity to hold. So very blessed at the end to be the mother of two very special little boys, and to be surrounded by a family of amazing young men.
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