I've heard that 2nd babies come quicker than 1st babies. I was in labor for 15 hours - and pushed for two - with Natalie. Needless to say, I was SO hoping you would make your debut in fewer than 15 hours. The short story of your grand entrance: boy oh BOY did you ever come quicker.
Here's the long story: 39 weeks, 1 day. I was fully in the "Everything Hurts and I Can't Sleep for Nothin'" stage of my pregnancy, and the thought that I might be pregnant for another 2.5 weeks was really discouraging. Natalie and I had a pretty typical morning - breakfast, cartoons, picking something cute and pink for her wear. We went to Baptist Hospital to visit Pep, who had been admitted the previous night for a blood pressure issue. (Side note: kudos to Bob for asking the paramedics to take Pep to Baptist, as you'll soon realize). After we left the hospital, we went home, played for a bit, had lunch, and took our naps (in case you aren't yet aware, I looooooove naps). I didn't feel great after we woke up, so Bob came over to help me wrangle Natalie until Daddy got home from work. I found it really hard to properly entertain an almost-three-year-old while being nine months pregnant, so I'm eternally thankful for Bob and Pep and their willingness to help me out with Natalie. Daddy called me before he left work and asked what kind of treat I wanted him to bring home. I initially thought ice cream, but then I decided that perhaps something spicy would be better. After all, Thai food triggered my labor with Natalie, so perhaps I could have the same luck with you (even though you weren't due for another 6 days). I asked Daddy to bring home some spring rolls (with lots and lots of sriracha) from Tu Do. As we were waiting for Daddy to come home, I noticed that I was having a lot of Braxton Hicks contractions. They didn't necessarily hurt, but they certaintly didn't feel good. I dove into the spring rolls as soon as Daddy walked in. I put waaaaaaay more sriracha than a normal person would (but being that pregnant left me feeling ANYthing but normal). I ate two spring rolls and it wasn't five minutes later before I noticed that my contractions were getting more and more intense. Just for kicks, I started timing them. They ranged anywhere from six to nine minutes apart. It was around 6pm.
I asked Daddy if we should have Bob go home and bring back an overnight bag. He said that we should just wait a bit - a few timeable contractions might not mean anything. Well it wasn't more than 45 minutes later when we realized that the contractions were getting closer together and more intense. Daddy called our midwife and explained that I had been having contractions five to six minutes apart for about an hour. We fully expected her to say something like "Okay, when they're more like three or four minutes apart, think about heading to the hospital." Instead she says "Well don't wait too long before you go to the hospital!" Bob quickly left to go home and pack a bag while Daddy finished packing our hospital bags and wrangling Natalie. Meanwhile, I had hit a level of contraction intensity that prevented me from simply breathing through them. I squirmed, I grimaced, I sounded like a humpback whale. Natalie came in a 'checked' on me a few times. She patted my back, said she was sorry I didn't feel well, then asked if I would play Pillow Fight with her. Your sister's sense of timing cracks me up.
When Bob came back to our house, I looked at Daddy and said "We've got to go to the hospital NOW." Daddy loaded up the van and helped me outside. I was unable to walk on my own; the contractions were so intense and my legs felt like Jello. We got to the hospital at 10pm. Daddy went to find a wheelchair for me and when he came back, it hit me just how scared I was. I physically couldn't get out of the van and into the wheelchair without Daddy doing 99% of the work. Everything was so different from my labor with Natalie; it really made me panic. We were whisked to the L&D floor and arrived in our room. As soon as the nurses helped me out of my wheelchair, I practically fell to the ground. The contractions were about three minutes apart and were lasting almost two minutes. The nurse checked me and said I was at 6cm. I was so relieved to hear her say that; when I got to the hospital with Natalie, I was only dilated to 2cm (despite being SURE I was dilated to 9cm). I didn't have time to bask in that relief, though, because the contractions were practically coming one on top of another. Our doula arrived and she filled up the bathtub (where I spent a lot of my labor with Natalie). The nurses brought me the birthing ball and helped me sit on it. It helped so much with my labor with Natalie that I just knew it'd help with my labor with you. Again, the vast differences in the two labors became apparent, because I couldn't find a comfortable position on the ball. Of course, I couldn't move OFF the ball because my legs had forgotten how to work, so I just stayed on it.
We learned in our birthing class that contractions typically reach their peak intensity at 30 seconds and last from 1-2 minutes. I didn't realize it at the time, but while I was on the ball, I had entered into the 'transition' phase of labor, where contractions come one on top of the other, with little-to-no break in between them. Daddy was timing my contractions, and after the two-minute mark, he said "Okay, they should start to ease up now." They didn't. They didn't at ALL. And it freaked me out.
Our midwife came in and wanted to check my progress. She told me that I needed to empty my bladder before she checked me. Daddy and our doula had to practically carry me to the bathroom (again, because of the whole legs-not-working thing). My water ended up breaking in the bathroom (so convenient) and our midwife said that I needed to get to the bed ASAP. Again, this was all happening so fast that I didn't realize what she was saying. She was essentially saying "Hey goofball, get your tail to the bed because this kid is coming." I made it back to the bed (with the help of Daddy and our doula again), got checked, and before I knew it, the nurses were putting up the squat bar and it was Go Time. The pain was so intense at this point that the nurses had to pry my arm off the bed to get me to hold on the squat bar (my legs-not-working thing also applied to my arms). I pushed once. I pushed again. And, according to Daddy, I let out a scream that sounded like someone had a knife to my throat. I remember screaming, and I remember saying to myself "Suze, shhh! Stop being so loud!" And then I said back to myself "Zip it, self. This hurts. I'll scream if I want to." I pushed a third time. And screamed again. Then our midwife told me stop pushing. She said she saw the head. Daddy thought she meant that she could see the top of your head. Nope. What she meant was that your head was out. And on my fourth push (and after only 15ish minutes), you entered the world at 11:42pm. 1 hour and 42 minutes after I got to the hospital. 5 hours and 42 minutes after my first timeable contraction. You came so quickly that Daddy didn't even get to catch you!
Your umbilical cord was wrapped around your chest and shoulders (didn't even know that was physically possible). Our midwife held you up to me and Daddy with your legs closed, then made the big reveal. There was no doubt - you, sir, are 100% boy. I giggled, looked at Daddy and said "You got your boy!" He looked so proud and so excited. (Just between you and me, he *might* have let a tear or two [or 100] fall). If there's one thing this world needs, it's a boy raised by your Daddy. He's the best and hardest working man I know, and you, baby boy, are so lucky to have him as a role model. And I consider myself the luckiest girl in the world to be his wife.
You aced your Apgar test, but you had to get tested for diabetes since you were over the threshold of a 'normal weight' for your gestational age (39 wks, 1 day). Anything above 8lbs, 3oz is considered 'big' for that age, and you topped the scales at 8lbs, 12oz. (PS: Thanks for coming when you did. Had you been born on your due date, you'd have been over 9lbs. And had you been born 6 days late like your sister, we might have had a 10 pounder).
Some funny things about the day you were born: You were the 9th baby born on the 9th; it was 75* when we got to the hospital, it was 45* when we left (Pensacola weather is confusing)
It was about 12:30am or so when our delivery room finally cleared out, and it was just you, me, and Daddy. It was pure bliss. And still pure disbelief that you were here. Even now, 6 days later, as I watch you sleep as I type, I still can't believe you're here. You're actually HERE. You, Charlie Bear, are perfection. (Not sure where 'Charlie Bear' came from. It just fell out of my mouth when we were in the hospital.) You nursed (like a rockstar, I might add) while Daddy and I chowed down on pizza and hamburgers. I know hospital food has a bad rap, but the food at Baptist Hospital ROCKS.
I was wheeled to the recovery room at about 3am. Not too long after that, there was a knock on my door. I assumed it was a nurse, but lo and behold, it was Pep! He had left his room (against medical advice, I'm sure), toting his rack of IV fluids behind him. I asked him why he wasn't asleep and he said "I got a text message from your mom at midnight saying that I had a new grandson! There's no way in the world I was going to sleep before I got to see him!" It was really sweet. On his way to my room, he stopped by the nursery and saw you and Daddy. Based on the look on his face, he more than approved of his new grandson. Pep and I talked in my room for a while, then they brought you to me. You were still adorable, still sleeping peacefully, still my boy.
Bob brought Natalie to the hospital the next day to meet you. She was a little shy at first (but that could have been that I was in a hospital bed, had an IV port in, and was wearing lots of hospital bracelets), but broke into a big grin when she saw you. She commented on how tiny your fingers were and how cute your little face was. You have no idea how lucky you are to have her as a big sister. She's got big plans for you kiddo. Plans that MIGHT involve playing Princesses or having a tea party, but plans nonetheless.
Bob and Natalie brought cupcakes to my hospital room so we could have a little birthday party for you. Natalie even sang Happy Birthday to you! The only bad part was that the birthday boy didn't get to partake in any of the cupcake festivities. You missed out, buddy. They were goooooood.
You looked just like Natalie did when she was born - chubby cheeks, several chins, button nose, long fingers and toes, and absolutely, positively, take-my-breath away adorable. Seriously, stick a pink flowered onesie on you and I could swear we were transported back to January 1, 2009. (Trust me, though, I'll never put you in a pink flowered onesie. You may be pretty, but you're a manly kind of pretty. Or something.) A big difference between yours and Natalie's appearance (besides the obvious, um, gender differences) is you have a dimple in each cheek! We didn't even notice them until our midwife pointed them out. But there they are, making your impossibly sweet cheeks even sweeter.
If you ever have more than one child, you might worry how your heart could possibly love the 2nd child as much as you love your 1st. Or if there's room enough in your heart to love another person so wholly and fiercely. Trust me, Charlie Bear, the second I saw you, it was as if my heart grew to twice its size. I immediately loved you with an unstoppable intensity and it now seems so silly that I was even worried about it.
You, baby boy, have made our family complete, our hearts full beyond measure, and our lives beyond joyful. And our laundry a little more blue.
Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy
Showing posts with label Birth Story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Birth Story. Show all posts
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Birth Story
* Disclaimer: I know this is tremendously long. I hope nobody feels obligated to make it to the end. This is more for me to keep a record of how labor and delivery went.
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40 weeks, 5 days ... On New Years Eve, Lee played one last round of golf (9 holes) because he only had to work a half day. That night, we went to dinner with my parents. I wanted to get something spicy in the hopes that would kickstart this labor thing, so we opted for Thai food. I felt okay during dinner, though my mom later mentioned to me that she thought I didn't look well.
I started having pretty regular contractions after we got home. They weren't anything bad, but they were coming pretty consistently at around 9 or 10 minutes apart for a few hours. We were both pretty tired after dinner but ended up staying up and watching Dick Clark's New Years Rockin' Eve (because that's what you do when you're home and in your PJs by 10pm on New Years Eve!). After it was over, we switched over to Channel 3 to watch the pelican drop at Pensacola's Downtown Countdown. And as soon as the pelican dropped, everything changed.
The contractions went from being "Hmm, this is mildly uncomfortable. I think this a contraction." to "Aaah! This had better be the real thing or I'm in serious trouble!" We tried not to get too excited because we didn't want to get our hopes up in case this was false labor. But we did start getting our things together - we finished up packing the hospital bag, we got some snacks together, I made up a batch of LaborAid (pretty disgusting but an absolute lifesaver - a combination of lemon juice, honey, salt, baking soda, crushed calcium tablets, water, and juice), and we both grabbed a shower. The contractions quickly started lasting well over a minute and coming every 4 and 5 minutes. I hadn't had any other signs of labor so we weren't really sure if this was it - but I knew that contractions that close together probably meant something. So we called our doula and our midwife to let them know what was happening. Our midwife said to go to the hospital and our doula said she'd meet us up there.
I was concerned because Lee and I hadn't gone to bed yet. And I'm less than pleasant when I don't get a good night's sleep.
And in my naive vanity, I straightened my hair before we left. Note to self: Self, don't ever waste your time like that again. Labor is hard work. Labor is sweaty work. Labor is not the time where you look back and think "Dang, my hair looked good." Next time, a ponytail of unstraightened hair will suffice.
The contractions were still coming pretty hard during the ride to the hospital but thankfully there wasn't a lot of traffic on the road so we made pretty good time while dodging NYE revellers swerving their way home. I felt like our Bradley classes got me well prepared for how labor would feel. I was ready for a crazy-intense version of the Braxton Hicks contractions I had been feeling for months. Except that's not what I felt.
Apparently GB was in whatever position that causes back labor. And she was also in whatever position that caused my hips to feel like they were being pried apart. I was NOT prepared for that. That unexpected pain made me a tad (okay, a lot) panicky and I quickly forgot all the relaxation techniques I learned in our Bradley classes.
We got checked in really quickly and I immediately got checked for progress. In my mind, I'm thinking "Okay, these contractions have really sucked. I've got to be at LEAST 5 or 6 centimeters, if not more." Ha. The nurse told me I was a "good 2 cm".
Um, what?
I tried to maintain my composure, but inside I was freaking out. How on earth am I supposed to make it through 8 more centimeters of these contractions?
Thankfully my room had a Jacuzzi tub that I could labor in, so I immediately hopped in. The tub helped, though let's be honest - it's not a magic tub, and the contractions still hurt like crazy. It was during this time that I realized just why the epidural was invented. I had planned to have a drug-free delivery, but I was beginning to have second thoughts. Lee got in the tub with me and applied counter-pressure to my hips while our doula applied counter-pressure to my back. Counter-pressure (and having Norah Jones as background music) is a wonderful thing.
The nurse poked her head in and said that my contractions were looking really good (um, thank you?) and wanted to check my progress. Again, in my mind, I was thinking "Okay, these past two hours sucked worse than before, so I KNOW I've made some progress. It can't be physically possible to go through these contractions and NOT make any progress."
And I did make progress.
A whopping 1/2 centimeter.
I immediately burst into tears, looked at Lee, and said that I didn't think I could do this without drugs. Being the most wonderful labor coach on the face of the Earth that he is, he held my face in his hands and told me that yes, in fact, I could do this. He kissed my nose and reminded me to take it one contraction at a time and to not look too far ahead. That God wouldn't put more on me than I could bear. This was something he reminded me of many times that day.
I think by this time, it was around 9am. The nurse called my midwife to update her on my progress, and she said she'd be up there to check on me in a few hours.
I began to feel queasy and told my nurse that I thought I was going to be sick. She said that she'd go get me an IV of anti-nausea medicine. Our doula whispered in my ear that a lot of times, vomiting is a good sign while in labor and that holding it in can slow down labor. I was so glad to hear that. So I told our nurse that I didn't want an IV - that if I could throw up, I'd take that option.
And take that option I did. I quickly said adios to my Thai dinner from the previous night - I felt much, much better after that.
Over the next several hours I alternated between laboring in the tub, laboring in bed (on my side, to get Natalie better centered - worst. laboring. position. ever.), and laboring on the birthing ball (in some ways, better at relieving pain than the tub).
My midwife arrived and checked me. I was prepared for her to give me bad news - that I was at something like 2 3/4 centimeters. Thankfully she said I was at 6cm! I could have kissed her square on the mouth for giving me that news.
I got back into the tub and stayed there for an hour or so. Although I didn't realize it at the time, I think this last tub adventure was my transition period - I was in a very unladylike position in the tub with my head very, very close to the top of the water. To get through each contraction, I would moan "breeeeeeeeathe ... down to the baby" in very low tones. Lee and our doula were both worried that I was going to drown myself (not really), but I always knew how close my face was to the water. I just tried to focus on the ripples ... and not the fact that it felt like my hips were being set on fire.
I continued to have fleeting moments of sheer I-don't-think-I-can-do-this terror, but was always brought out of it by Lee and his kind, supportive words. He wouldn't let me wallow or self-doubt for too long. And for that, I am eternally indebted to him.
At about 1:30, I got checked again. Shock-of-all-shocks, I was already at 10cm. My midwife told me it was time to push. I told her that I didn't feel like I needed to push, so she said I'd just do a 'test push'. I was pumped about pushing since I had heard that pushing was the best feeling - it was a relief and felt great compared to the pains of labor.
Or perhaps not.
Pushing feels great ... for some women. For other women though, pushing absolutely sucks. It's NOT the best feeling, it WASN'T a relief, and it DIDN'T feel great compared to the pains of labor. And I was horrified at this realization. That I would have to endure any amount of this horrible pushing to meet our baby was a very overwhelming feeling.
And because pushing hurt, and because I hadn't slept in many, many hours, I was a bad pusher. I never, ever got the urge to push so I didn't think I was doing it right. I would puuuuuush for 10 seconds and then have to relax and take a breath ... which meant the baby would alllllllllmost come and then retreat. She was like a dang Whack-a-Mole.
I pushed while squatting, I pushed while on my side, I pushed while on all fours - I couldn't really ever find the best position. I eventually stuck with the squatting position, only because that was the one I felt I had the most control over.
Lee was right by my side the whole time, grunting along with me while I pushed. He was a great cheerleader. "Good job, baby! That was an awesome push! You're almost there!" It really helped to drown out some of my negative self-talk. There were a few times I had to focus on his face; he looked at me with all the love and support in the world. I thought that I might not be able to do it, but it wouldn't be because Lee didn't believe in me.
After an hour or so of pushing, instead of 'bearing down', I started to let my air out with each push - I sounded like a deflating balloon (Lee does a great impression of me doing this - feel free to ask him for a demonstration). My midwife kept telling me "Push like you mean it!!" My response? A sobby and blubbery "I don't mean it! I don't know HOW to mean it!"
We got to the point where the baby was right there, ready to make her grand entrance. All the baby needed was me to do 2 or 3 really good, really productive pushes. Unfortunately, at that exact time, I decided that I needed a break after each contraction. I had finally figured out how to push correctly, but it was incredibly exhausting. I thought that the nurses and my midwife would comply with my need to rest.
Ha.
So I, thinking that I was totally sneaky, decided to come up with any lie I could think of that would make the nurses and my midwife be okay with me relaxing after each push.
Me: I'm going to throw up! (I thought this would work because my midwife doesn't 'do' puke.)
* out of nowhere, a little tray for me to throw up in appeared on my chest *
Dang it.
Me: I can't breathe!! (I thought this would work because of, you know, the importance of breathing)
Random Nurse: Well you're talking, so obviously you can breathe!
Dang it again.
Me: My hips hurt!! (I thought this would work because I thought SOMEone would have sympathy)
Random Nurse: Your hips are going to hurt until you push this baby out!
Seriously?
Me: My back hurts!! (Again, I was really fishing for some sympathy)
Random Nurse: Your back is going to hurt until you push this baby out!
At that point, I decided that I hated every single person in the delivery room.
Before 1/1/09, I always thought that I would be able to maintain my composure in the delivery room. I've seen how crazy the women act on "A Baby Story" and I just knew that I could handle it better than they were. Was all the screaming and yelling really necessary?
Answer: Yes. Screaming and yelling helps.
And so does swearing. I vaguely remember letting a few choice four-letter words fly out of my mouth ... but apparently I let out a tad more than a few. Thankfully, Lee said that I wasn't swearing at anyone in the room (I would feel really bad if I did that) - I was just muttering the obscenities to myself.
I finally got a break after one contraction. My midwife said that she could see a head full of hair - and that she (our midwife) was playing with her (the baby's) hair, twirling it around and around. And that it'd be nice if I would just go ahead and push her out so she can see her whole head of hair. That brought me out of my funk and made me laugh.
More pushing.
Shortly after that, our midwife tells Lee to put on a gown and some gloves and deliver his daughter. I was scared since I wanted him by me while I was pushing, but our doula swept in and took his place by my side. She was a wonderful, wonderful addition to my delivery.
I had my eyes scrunched closed while I got through the last few pushes - and the next thing I knew, I opened my eyes and saw Lee pulling out our baby. It was the most amazing moment I have ever experienced. Seeing my husband deliver our daughter was beautiful. Miraculous. Sweet beyond words. He had such a proud look on his face. I had never been more in love with him. I had never been more proud of him.
Lee immediately put the baby on my chest. I had always thought that I wanted the nurses to clean the baby off before they put her on my chest. Freshly-born babies are, um, kind of icky. And slimy. And funny looking. But not our baby. I thought she was the most beautiful thing that God had ever created. I had no concept of her ickiness or slimyness. All I saw was perfection.
Lee and I were laughing and crying, just marveling at what just happened. We looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity. When the cord finally stopped pulsing, Lee cut it, and the nurses took the baby to get cleaned off and weighed.
Natalie Jane Smith arrived at 3:43pm on Thursday, January 1, 2009. She turned out to be the first baby born at Baptist Hospital (she was actually the ONLY baby born at Baptist on the 1st).
She weighed 7lbs, 10oz and was 20 inches long. Her weight has caused some confusion though. We think something was wrong with the scale in the delivery room. The day after she was born, she weighed 7lbs, 15oz. Which is complete silliness since babies hardly ever GAIN weight in the hospital. And even if they do, it's never 5oz. And her discharge papers listed her at 7lbs, 12oz. So we think that she was right around 8lbs when she was born. But according to the birth certificate, she was 7lbs, 10oz.
While all of her stats were being taken, I was getting stitched up. I had a very small tear because Natalie was born with her right hand touching her left shoulder. (Lee said she's very patriotic) Once that was done, I pushed out the placenta (ew - it's crazy how big that thing was).
The nurses had given the baby to Lee for him to get some skin-to-skin bonding in. Apparently babies really like hairy chests. And I just happened to have a hairy-chested husband in the delivery room - what a good coincidence! Lee started laughing and said that Natalie had scooched her way down his chest and was trying to nurse from him. He handed her to me since we wanted to try nursing as soon as possible after she was born. I saw something weird around her mouth - she was so ready to start nursing that she had pulled a few of Lee's chest hairs out with her mouth :)
She latched on like a pro and ate for about 10 minutes. I was so excited! I had heard how hard nursing can be and I had prayed that I would have a good nurser. Unfortunately this turned out to be a case of beginner's luck, as the ease of nursing quickly went downhill over the next few days.
One of the nurses went into the waiting room to share the news with our families. There were about 10 or 11 people total, so we had them come in small groups of 2 or 3 into the delivery room to meet Natalie. It was so, so special to share that moment with them.
The nurse wheeled me into my recovery room around 6pm. She helped me out of bed and into the bathroom. I'm really glad she was there because I got really, really lightheaded. I guess it never occurred to me that I'd be that dizzy, but it makes sense - I had lost a lot of blood! Thankfully the lightheadedness didn't last too long. By late that night, I felt good and even showered by myself.
While I was in the recover room, Lee stayed behind and played Daddy Bear, watching intently through the nursery glass as the nurses gave Natalie her shots and her first bath. My mom and my sister stayed with me in my recovery room; it was really fun for the Bushway gals to hang out for a bit.
Lee and the nurses wheeled Natalie back into my recovery room a few hours later. They had put a little pink bow on her head and wrapped her up burrito-style. She was fast asleep and looked just like a little angel. That moment was one of many moments where I suddenly started crying.
Lee and I wanted to have Natalie in our room with us, especially because I was insistent at becoming an expert breastfeeder - and I wanted to have her close by me whenever she was hungry. The whole 'expert breastfeeder' thing didn't pan out very well, as I was lucky if I could get her to nurse for 3 or 4 minutes at at time. Thankfully that time has increased exponentially - but it was definitely dicey for the first few days.
Around 1am on the morning of the 2nd, two nurses wheeled in our "First Baby of '09' gift into our room. Lee and I were asleep when they came in, so we didn't really comprehend what was happening or what they were bringing us. It wasn't until later that morning that we saw the extent of the gift - a complete travel system (stroller and infant carrier), full of diapers, wipes, a basket of fun stuff from Bath & Body Works for me, crib toys, a swaddle blanket, bibs, spoons, and more. We truly feel God has his hand in this gift ... the crib toys that were part of the gift matched our crib bedding that we already had at home. And God must have known that the infant carrier would come in handy for the first few outings we took because we hadn't felt comfortable using the sling yet (and the car seat we do have isn't the kind that easily pops out of a base - ours stays in the car).
***
There are tons more details that I want to add, but they don't really relate to the whole birth story. I'll just have to be better about posting new updates.
***
In summary, I'm still surprised that I managed to go drug-free. The pain was more than I was expecting. I wonder if she had been face down (and I hadn't had the resulting back labor) if I would have maintained my composure better. I'd like to think so. But regardless, I did it. I did it! The most unathletic, uncoordinated girl in the world managed to endure and finish quite a strenuous athletic event. That blows my mind.
I didn't think it was possible to be any more in love with Lee than I was. But his unfailing support and his unstoppable faith in me throughout both my pregnancy and labor made me fall even more in love with him. I never had any doubts about us as a couple before ... but now I'm even more confident in our ability to work together as a team. I'm so proud of Team Smith.
And I've never been more proud to be Lee's wife. He is the epitome of a doting father. Seeing him with Natalie absolutely melts my heart. He is so patient, so helpful, and so supportive. I am one lucky girl.
And I didn't know I could instantly love someone like I instantly loved Natalie. She's perfect. She's cuddly. She's got yummy feet.
My heart has never felt more full. I have a hard time thinking about her or Lee without tearing up. Even as I write this, I'm getting weepy.
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God, thank you for blessing our family. Thank you for trusting us to be Natalie's parents. We know she is Yours and we'll do our best to raise her right.
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40 weeks, 5 days ... On New Years Eve, Lee played one last round of golf (9 holes) because he only had to work a half day. That night, we went to dinner with my parents. I wanted to get something spicy in the hopes that would kickstart this labor thing, so we opted for Thai food. I felt okay during dinner, though my mom later mentioned to me that she thought I didn't look well.
I started having pretty regular contractions after we got home. They weren't anything bad, but they were coming pretty consistently at around 9 or 10 minutes apart for a few hours. We were both pretty tired after dinner but ended up staying up and watching Dick Clark's New Years Rockin' Eve (because that's what you do when you're home and in your PJs by 10pm on New Years Eve!). After it was over, we switched over to Channel 3 to watch the pelican drop at Pensacola's Downtown Countdown. And as soon as the pelican dropped, everything changed.
The contractions went from being "Hmm, this is mildly uncomfortable. I think this a contraction." to "Aaah! This had better be the real thing or I'm in serious trouble!" We tried not to get too excited because we didn't want to get our hopes up in case this was false labor. But we did start getting our things together - we finished up packing the hospital bag, we got some snacks together, I made up a batch of LaborAid (pretty disgusting but an absolute lifesaver - a combination of lemon juice, honey, salt, baking soda, crushed calcium tablets, water, and juice), and we both grabbed a shower. The contractions quickly started lasting well over a minute and coming every 4 and 5 minutes. I hadn't had any other signs of labor so we weren't really sure if this was it - but I knew that contractions that close together probably meant something. So we called our doula and our midwife to let them know what was happening. Our midwife said to go to the hospital and our doula said she'd meet us up there.
I was concerned because Lee and I hadn't gone to bed yet. And I'm less than pleasant when I don't get a good night's sleep.
And in my naive vanity, I straightened my hair before we left. Note to self: Self, don't ever waste your time like that again. Labor is hard work. Labor is sweaty work. Labor is not the time where you look back and think "Dang, my hair looked good." Next time, a ponytail of unstraightened hair will suffice.
The contractions were still coming pretty hard during the ride to the hospital but thankfully there wasn't a lot of traffic on the road so we made pretty good time while dodging NYE revellers swerving their way home. I felt like our Bradley classes got me well prepared for how labor would feel. I was ready for a crazy-intense version of the Braxton Hicks contractions I had been feeling for months. Except that's not what I felt.
Apparently GB was in whatever position that causes back labor. And she was also in whatever position that caused my hips to feel like they were being pried apart. I was NOT prepared for that. That unexpected pain made me a tad (okay, a lot) panicky and I quickly forgot all the relaxation techniques I learned in our Bradley classes.
We got checked in really quickly and I immediately got checked for progress. In my mind, I'm thinking "Okay, these contractions have really sucked. I've got to be at LEAST 5 or 6 centimeters, if not more." Ha. The nurse told me I was a "good 2 cm".
Um, what?
I tried to maintain my composure, but inside I was freaking out. How on earth am I supposed to make it through 8 more centimeters of these contractions?
Thankfully my room had a Jacuzzi tub that I could labor in, so I immediately hopped in. The tub helped, though let's be honest - it's not a magic tub, and the contractions still hurt like crazy. It was during this time that I realized just why the epidural was invented. I had planned to have a drug-free delivery, but I was beginning to have second thoughts. Lee got in the tub with me and applied counter-pressure to my hips while our doula applied counter-pressure to my back. Counter-pressure (and having Norah Jones as background music) is a wonderful thing.
The nurse poked her head in and said that my contractions were looking really good (um, thank you?) and wanted to check my progress. Again, in my mind, I was thinking "Okay, these past two hours sucked worse than before, so I KNOW I've made some progress. It can't be physically possible to go through these contractions and NOT make any progress."
And I did make progress.
A whopping 1/2 centimeter.
I immediately burst into tears, looked at Lee, and said that I didn't think I could do this without drugs. Being the most wonderful labor coach on the face of the Earth that he is, he held my face in his hands and told me that yes, in fact, I could do this. He kissed my nose and reminded me to take it one contraction at a time and to not look too far ahead. That God wouldn't put more on me than I could bear. This was something he reminded me of many times that day.
I think by this time, it was around 9am. The nurse called my midwife to update her on my progress, and she said she'd be up there to check on me in a few hours.
I began to feel queasy and told my nurse that I thought I was going to be sick. She said that she'd go get me an IV of anti-nausea medicine. Our doula whispered in my ear that a lot of times, vomiting is a good sign while in labor and that holding it in can slow down labor. I was so glad to hear that. So I told our nurse that I didn't want an IV - that if I could throw up, I'd take that option.
And take that option I did. I quickly said adios to my Thai dinner from the previous night - I felt much, much better after that.
Over the next several hours I alternated between laboring in the tub, laboring in bed (on my side, to get Natalie better centered - worst. laboring. position. ever.), and laboring on the birthing ball (in some ways, better at relieving pain than the tub).
My midwife arrived and checked me. I was prepared for her to give me bad news - that I was at something like 2 3/4 centimeters. Thankfully she said I was at 6cm! I could have kissed her square on the mouth for giving me that news.
I got back into the tub and stayed there for an hour or so. Although I didn't realize it at the time, I think this last tub adventure was my transition period - I was in a very unladylike position in the tub with my head very, very close to the top of the water. To get through each contraction, I would moan "breeeeeeeeathe ... down to the baby" in very low tones. Lee and our doula were both worried that I was going to drown myself (not really), but I always knew how close my face was to the water. I just tried to focus on the ripples ... and not the fact that it felt like my hips were being set on fire.
I continued to have fleeting moments of sheer I-don't-think-I-can-do-this terror, but was always brought out of it by Lee and his kind, supportive words. He wouldn't let me wallow or self-doubt for too long. And for that, I am eternally indebted to him.
At about 1:30, I got checked again. Shock-of-all-shocks, I was already at 10cm. My midwife told me it was time to push. I told her that I didn't feel like I needed to push, so she said I'd just do a 'test push'. I was pumped about pushing since I had heard that pushing was the best feeling - it was a relief and felt great compared to the pains of labor.
Or perhaps not.
Pushing feels great ... for some women. For other women though, pushing absolutely sucks. It's NOT the best feeling, it WASN'T a relief, and it DIDN'T feel great compared to the pains of labor. And I was horrified at this realization. That I would have to endure any amount of this horrible pushing to meet our baby was a very overwhelming feeling.
And because pushing hurt, and because I hadn't slept in many, many hours, I was a bad pusher. I never, ever got the urge to push so I didn't think I was doing it right. I would puuuuuush for 10 seconds and then have to relax and take a breath ... which meant the baby would alllllllllmost come and then retreat. She was like a dang Whack-a-Mole.
I pushed while squatting, I pushed while on my side, I pushed while on all fours - I couldn't really ever find the best position. I eventually stuck with the squatting position, only because that was the one I felt I had the most control over.
Lee was right by my side the whole time, grunting along with me while I pushed. He was a great cheerleader. "Good job, baby! That was an awesome push! You're almost there!" It really helped to drown out some of my negative self-talk. There were a few times I had to focus on his face; he looked at me with all the love and support in the world. I thought that I might not be able to do it, but it wouldn't be because Lee didn't believe in me.
After an hour or so of pushing, instead of 'bearing down', I started to let my air out with each push - I sounded like a deflating balloon (Lee does a great impression of me doing this - feel free to ask him for a demonstration). My midwife kept telling me "Push like you mean it!!" My response? A sobby and blubbery "I don't mean it! I don't know HOW to mean it!"
We got to the point where the baby was right there, ready to make her grand entrance. All the baby needed was me to do 2 or 3 really good, really productive pushes. Unfortunately, at that exact time, I decided that I needed a break after each contraction. I had finally figured out how to push correctly, but it was incredibly exhausting. I thought that the nurses and my midwife would comply with my need to rest.
Ha.
So I, thinking that I was totally sneaky, decided to come up with any lie I could think of that would make the nurses and my midwife be okay with me relaxing after each push.
Me: I'm going to throw up! (I thought this would work because my midwife doesn't 'do' puke.)
* out of nowhere, a little tray for me to throw up in appeared on my chest *
Dang it.
Me: I can't breathe!! (I thought this would work because of, you know, the importance of breathing)
Random Nurse: Well you're talking, so obviously you can breathe!
Dang it again.
Me: My hips hurt!! (I thought this would work because I thought SOMEone would have sympathy)
Random Nurse: Your hips are going to hurt until you push this baby out!
Seriously?
Me: My back hurts!! (Again, I was really fishing for some sympathy)
Random Nurse: Your back is going to hurt until you push this baby out!
At that point, I decided that I hated every single person in the delivery room.
Before 1/1/09, I always thought that I would be able to maintain my composure in the delivery room. I've seen how crazy the women act on "A Baby Story" and I just knew that I could handle it better than they were. Was all the screaming and yelling really necessary?
Answer: Yes. Screaming and yelling helps.
And so does swearing. I vaguely remember letting a few choice four-letter words fly out of my mouth ... but apparently I let out a tad more than a few. Thankfully, Lee said that I wasn't swearing at anyone in the room (I would feel really bad if I did that) - I was just muttering the obscenities to myself.
I finally got a break after one contraction. My midwife said that she could see a head full of hair - and that she (our midwife) was playing with her (the baby's) hair, twirling it around and around. And that it'd be nice if I would just go ahead and push her out so she can see her whole head of hair. That brought me out of my funk and made me laugh.
More pushing.
Shortly after that, our midwife tells Lee to put on a gown and some gloves and deliver his daughter. I was scared since I wanted him by me while I was pushing, but our doula swept in and took his place by my side. She was a wonderful, wonderful addition to my delivery.
I had my eyes scrunched closed while I got through the last few pushes - and the next thing I knew, I opened my eyes and saw Lee pulling out our baby. It was the most amazing moment I have ever experienced. Seeing my husband deliver our daughter was beautiful. Miraculous. Sweet beyond words. He had such a proud look on his face. I had never been more in love with him. I had never been more proud of him.
Lee immediately put the baby on my chest. I had always thought that I wanted the nurses to clean the baby off before they put her on my chest. Freshly-born babies are, um, kind of icky. And slimy. And funny looking. But not our baby. I thought she was the most beautiful thing that God had ever created. I had no concept of her ickiness or slimyness. All I saw was perfection.
Lee and I were laughing and crying, just marveling at what just happened. We looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity. When the cord finally stopped pulsing, Lee cut it, and the nurses took the baby to get cleaned off and weighed.
Natalie Jane Smith arrived at 3:43pm on Thursday, January 1, 2009. She turned out to be the first baby born at Baptist Hospital (she was actually the ONLY baby born at Baptist on the 1st).
She weighed 7lbs, 10oz and was 20 inches long. Her weight has caused some confusion though. We think something was wrong with the scale in the delivery room. The day after she was born, she weighed 7lbs, 15oz. Which is complete silliness since babies hardly ever GAIN weight in the hospital. And even if they do, it's never 5oz. And her discharge papers listed her at 7lbs, 12oz. So we think that she was right around 8lbs when she was born. But according to the birth certificate, she was 7lbs, 10oz.
While all of her stats were being taken, I was getting stitched up. I had a very small tear because Natalie was born with her right hand touching her left shoulder. (Lee said she's very patriotic) Once that was done, I pushed out the placenta (ew - it's crazy how big that thing was).
The nurses had given the baby to Lee for him to get some skin-to-skin bonding in. Apparently babies really like hairy chests. And I just happened to have a hairy-chested husband in the delivery room - what a good coincidence! Lee started laughing and said that Natalie had scooched her way down his chest and was trying to nurse from him. He handed her to me since we wanted to try nursing as soon as possible after she was born. I saw something weird around her mouth - she was so ready to start nursing that she had pulled a few of Lee's chest hairs out with her mouth :)
She latched on like a pro and ate for about 10 minutes. I was so excited! I had heard how hard nursing can be and I had prayed that I would have a good nurser. Unfortunately this turned out to be a case of beginner's luck, as the ease of nursing quickly went downhill over the next few days.
One of the nurses went into the waiting room to share the news with our families. There were about 10 or 11 people total, so we had them come in small groups of 2 or 3 into the delivery room to meet Natalie. It was so, so special to share that moment with them.
The nurse wheeled me into my recovery room around 6pm. She helped me out of bed and into the bathroom. I'm really glad she was there because I got really, really lightheaded. I guess it never occurred to me that I'd be that dizzy, but it makes sense - I had lost a lot of blood! Thankfully the lightheadedness didn't last too long. By late that night, I felt good and even showered by myself.
While I was in the recover room, Lee stayed behind and played Daddy Bear, watching intently through the nursery glass as the nurses gave Natalie her shots and her first bath. My mom and my sister stayed with me in my recovery room; it was really fun for the Bushway gals to hang out for a bit.
Lee and the nurses wheeled Natalie back into my recovery room a few hours later. They had put a little pink bow on her head and wrapped her up burrito-style. She was fast asleep and looked just like a little angel. That moment was one of many moments where I suddenly started crying.
Lee and I wanted to have Natalie in our room with us, especially because I was insistent at becoming an expert breastfeeder - and I wanted to have her close by me whenever she was hungry. The whole 'expert breastfeeder' thing didn't pan out very well, as I was lucky if I could get her to nurse for 3 or 4 minutes at at time. Thankfully that time has increased exponentially - but it was definitely dicey for the first few days.
Around 1am on the morning of the 2nd, two nurses wheeled in our "First Baby of '09' gift into our room. Lee and I were asleep when they came in, so we didn't really comprehend what was happening or what they were bringing us. It wasn't until later that morning that we saw the extent of the gift - a complete travel system (stroller and infant carrier), full of diapers, wipes, a basket of fun stuff from Bath & Body Works for me, crib toys, a swaddle blanket, bibs, spoons, and more. We truly feel God has his hand in this gift ... the crib toys that were part of the gift matched our crib bedding that we already had at home. And God must have known that the infant carrier would come in handy for the first few outings we took because we hadn't felt comfortable using the sling yet (and the car seat we do have isn't the kind that easily pops out of a base - ours stays in the car).
***
There are tons more details that I want to add, but they don't really relate to the whole birth story. I'll just have to be better about posting new updates.
***
In summary, I'm still surprised that I managed to go drug-free. The pain was more than I was expecting. I wonder if she had been face down (and I hadn't had the resulting back labor) if I would have maintained my composure better. I'd like to think so. But regardless, I did it. I did it! The most unathletic, uncoordinated girl in the world managed to endure and finish quite a strenuous athletic event. That blows my mind.
I didn't think it was possible to be any more in love with Lee than I was. But his unfailing support and his unstoppable faith in me throughout both my pregnancy and labor made me fall even more in love with him. I never had any doubts about us as a couple before ... but now I'm even more confident in our ability to work together as a team. I'm so proud of Team Smith.
And I've never been more proud to be Lee's wife. He is the epitome of a doting father. Seeing him with Natalie absolutely melts my heart. He is so patient, so helpful, and so supportive. I am one lucky girl.
And I didn't know I could instantly love someone like I instantly loved Natalie. She's perfect. She's cuddly. She's got yummy feet.
My heart has never felt more full. I have a hard time thinking about her or Lee without tearing up. Even as I write this, I'm getting weepy.
***
God, thank you for blessing our family. Thank you for trusting us to be Natalie's parents. We know she is Yours and we'll do our best to raise her right.
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