A sweet friend, who has two grandkids of her own, came over to watch the kids during my 40 week OB appointment. The kids love "miss Julie"! The last time she babysat, she brought homemade cookies. This time she brought them each a fun light up Halloween toy. I left as they were mesmerized with their new toys and had the last minute thought that maybe I should throw my hospital bag in the van just in case, but I quickly dismissed the thought considered all the pre labor I'd experienced so far.
I checked in for my appointment and sat down in the waiting room. I started to feel contractions again but thought "oh, here we go again..." and was honestly annoyed thinking it was just more pre labor that would stop after a while. Then, I heard one of the receptionists call my name. Evidentally my appointment was really for the afternoon, but knowing I was already past my due date and had already checked in, my OB squeezed me in between other appointments.
When the nurse called me back a few minutes later, I noticed the contractions were getting stronger, but tried to ignore them again. As I sat in the exam room waiting for my OB, however, the contractions just kept getting stronger and longer. My OB took one look at me when she walked in and said, "I think I'm going to send you to labor and delivery". She checked and noticed I was between 3 and 4 cm now and baby's head was a lot lower than a week ago. She also noticed more blood around the cervix, indicating that I was clearly contracting and possibly heading towards active labor.
So, I walked down to labor and delivery, slowly and painfully as the contractions kept coming in waves. The nurse got me all settled and began monitoring me as I called my mom to let her know what was going on. I was still skeptical that this was for real, but my mom jumped right in her car and called Ted for me. Ted stopped at home to check in with the babysitter and told her my brother, Dan, was on the way soon to pick up the kids. He then headed over to the hospital and got there a few minutes before my mom arrived. He was just as skeptical as me, but by the time my mom arrived, I was still contracting and by just after noon, when my OB came in to check me, I had progressed to a solid 4 cm and I agreed to let her break my water to help labor progress quicker.
It wasn't until my water broke that I finally realized, "this is for real!" and I was encouraged that, though labor might be long and painful, I was going to meet my littlest peanut soon. As labor continued to progress, I practiced breathing techniques and various labor positions to help relax through the contractions and allow them to do what they were supposed to do. Because labor happened on it's own, I was able to move around freely and even take a whirlpool bath several times. The whirlpool was probably the best labor relief for me, because the jets massaged my back through contractions and helped keep my mind off the pain.
I also did a lot of visualizing and speaking positively to myself. As I breathed through each contraction, I imagined what my son would look like: would he have hair or not, what color would his eyes be, would he look like Valerie or Almanzo...or would he be completely different, how big would he be, would he have long, slender fingers or chubby little hands? I told myself, instead of "this is so painful", "that was a really productive contraction" and kept reminding myself that every contraction was one step closer to meeting him. I also kept thinking "I can do this" and "my body knows what to do" to reassure myself that, no matter how hard it was, I had already done this twice and could definitely do it again.
Just after four, my OB came in to check me again, hoping I was close to transition or almost complete so she could finally deliver one of our babies before leaving for the day. My husband joked with her that I was probably only 5 cm and, when she confirmed I was close to 6 cm, but not as far progressed as she was hoping, she teased back, "I hate you, Ted!" Even though I was hoping I had progressed a little more and eager for my OB to actually deliver one of our babies, I was still feeling pretty confident and positive about everything. I was happy to be still progressing, especially considering I got stuck at 5 cm for hours with my last two babies.
A few hours later, however, as I got closer to transition, the contractions were becoming unbearable for me. It was harder and harder to breathe through and keep my mind off the pain of each contraction. When the on call OB checked and said I was not quite 7 cm, but my cervix was much thinner, I knew I had made a huge accomplishment already in making it so far without any pain medications. When the next wave of contractions came, I cried to my husband, "I think I want that epidural now". He reminded me that I was more than welcome to any pain medications and that I had already done an amazing job to make it so far. When he told me he was proud of me, I knew I had accomplished what I wanted to.
I went into this labor and delivery wanting to make it further and possibly even all the way without pain medications, but knew that I would be okay if the pain became too unbearable again. It's funny, because I kept justifying to both Ted and my mom why I was okay with the epidural when I really didn't need to justify it at all. I knew my body and what I was capable of and at that point, I just really didn't want to go any further without that epidural. I knew it was what my body needed before to get me through transition and to finally push that baby out without making labor any more prolonged that it already was. I knew it had worked well for me before and I was happy with how far I had made it so far. My husband took one last look at me before the anesthesiologist arrived and said, "You know you don't have to justify it to me. I'm proud of you and, if I were you, I would have asked for that epidural a lot sooner."
He then joked that it would be funny if we had the same anesthesiologist as my other deliveries and I joked back, "Yeah, he's my friend". The process of putting in the epidural was more painful that I had remembered, partly because contractions were stronger and harder now that I was closer to transition and partly because the first attempt didn't work. The anesthesiologist apologized several times for having to poke me twice and explained that pregnancy often changes the curvature of the back and so the first attempt didn't go in quite right. I actually cried during the procedure this time, but once the medication started to kick in, I started to smile and really joke around with everyone. Ted asked me how I was doing and I gave him a goofy grin and said, "Great! I really like epidurals!"
I decided to close my eyes and rest, letting the epidural do it's job and waiting for that obvious feeling of needing to push. I had only closed my eyes for a few minutes, however, before I started to feel dizzy and a little short of breath. The nurse realized the medication was effecting me a little bit too close to my lungs, so she turned it off for a little while and then lowered the amount I was receiving before turning it back on again. Around 10, the on call OB checked and I had only progressed to 8-9 cm, so I went back to sleep only to wake up just before 11 as I felt tremendous pelvic pressure and started to feel the urge to push. The nurse checked and said I was so close to being complete except for a tiny bit of the cervix that needed to thin out yet. She said simply rolling over to that side would help and as she was helping me to move, I suddenly said, "I need to push!"
Sure enough, I was complete and, as she called the on call OB to let her know, I could hardly resist the urge to push. She had to beg the doctor to hurry up and beg me to hold on for the doctor to deliver this baby. We laughed that the nurse might have to deliver if the doctor didn't hurry up, because she knew that the first push would likely bring baby's head right into position and that with just a few pushes, he would be here. When the doctor finally arrived, the nurse's suspicions were confirmed. The first push brought his head down so low, that everyone could see his head right there. After 10-15 pushes,
our Ollie was here, giving one final kick on his way out. (
Seriously - this little guy kicked and squirmed his way through labor. He did NOT want to come out!)
I'll never forget that moment when they laid him right on my chest the moment he was here and he stared into my eyes. It is a moment I had prayed for for months and I was almost in tears. He was slightly stunned from birth and had swallowed some amniotic fluid, but after a few minutes of oxygen and extra stimulation, he was back in my arms and just over an hour after he arrived, he was nursing for the first time. I kept looking over at my mom and husband wondering if this was for real. Was he really here in my arms...and not on the way to the nursery, a trip to the NICU in the near future? It was all so surreal and completely amazing to me.
The only bummer was that Ted missed out on cutting the cord this time. I don't remember him leaving my side, but, after a few pushes he suddenly felt really dizzy and had to sit down. He had just woken up from a nap and they had turned on all the bright lights, so it may have just been a combination of reasons. He told me afterwards, "Sorry for wimping out on you", but I didn't even realize he had left my side until our littlest peanut was already in my arms and I heard one of the nurses making sure he was okay. Poor guy - it was a long day for him...and, truthfully, he's put up with a LOT in the past few weeks of pre labor drama. Both he and my mom were huge supports. I couldn't have done it without them.
Ollie rarely left my side the entire less than two days we were recovering in the hospital except for occasional assessments and check ups by the on call family practice doctor. Every time a nurse or doctor came in the room, I braced myself for the worst case scenario, fearing that any moment he could be taken away from us. Knowing our story, everyone constantly reassured us that he really was healthy as could be. I fell asleep that first night staring at him in the crib right next to my bed. I reached over every so often to touch him and reassure myself that this was real. I'm almost in tears just typing this, because this entire experience was more than an answer to prayer - it was a miracle.
Today, just over two days after our littlest peanut arrived, I am sitting at home, staring at his sleepy face as he squirms and starts to wake up to nurse again. I can't stop smiling and praising God for this littlest blessing and for allowing his story to be so much better than we ever imagined.
