In honor of my little bundle of attitude’s 7 month birthday I thought I would put up her birth story. So full disclosure for my queasy readers: THIS IS A BIRTH STORY. THERE WILL BE DETAILS ABOUT CHILDBIRTH. If that’s not your cup of tea, don’t read this. Also it’s super long so I’m breaking it into two parts. I evidently have a lot to say about this. If you don’t like long posts, don’t read it.
When I originally decided to post this I thought I had saved a copy of her birth story on my computer….but it’s grown legs and walked off. So I’m attempting to recall as many details as I can from that day although many of them are super fuzzy.
We found out we were pregnant on Christmas Day 2015! I lied when i bought the pregnancy test and said I was going to the pharmacy for Midol but yea, not so much. After I told the husband he made me take another test just to make sure. Guess what? That one was positive too. It’s like I was really pregnant or something. I stuck with my regular OB/GYN until about 20 weeks and then started having second thoughts. With C  it was a very managed delivery. I was told when to get my water broken, when to get my epidural, when to push, etc. I remember the doctor telling me that since i was 3 centimeters (yea, 3 centimeters) it was time to get my epidural. I told him something along the lines of- are you sure I need one, I feel fine. Like fine as in the husband and I had just been doing laps in the labor unit and the nurses said we would probably be sent home because I looked too happy.  He told me- you should get it now because its going to get “really bad.” So terrified 25 year old first time mom of course listened. It was the most difficult part of that entire delivery. 12-14 hours later I had a beautiful, healthy, baby boy but also a 2nd degree tear and an epidural that would.not.wear.off. I had a catheter for a day and couldn’t walk around or get in the shower. I realize these things seem trivial (and they are) compared to the healthy baby/healthy mom situation but I was curious if there was something out there a bit different. Or a lot different.
Right around the time the husband left the country  I switched my care to Baby and Co . A birth center affiliated with a local hospital. I wanted something much more hands off but still associated with evidence based medical care. There were less appointments, less tests, and more personalized attention. It was a completely different experience from the very beginning. When I called my OB to have my records transferred to the birth center I got a snarky, “good luck.” When I had my first appointment with my midwife she asked me how I was doing emotionally. **Insert all the heart emojis** The other thing there was less of was pain relief. And this was the biggest hurdle for me. Baby and Co offered a birth tub, a TENS unit and laughing gas. Choosing the birth center was choosing a natural birth. There was always the option of transferring across the street to the hospital but I had a feeling that when one was in labor the last thing you wanted to do was get back in the car and then deal with hospital admissions. ( Baby and Co now offers midwife deliveries in the hospital but at the time of my birth they were only delivering at the birth center.) I quickly learned to stop telling people that I was delivering at a birth center. I got everything from horrified stares from those with manners to -wow that’s really dangerous for your baby- from the not so well mannered. Or my personal favorite- oh Stephanie you know you can’t do this without drugs!
Because no one ever in the history of the world has gotten through labor and delivery without drugs. Mary and Joseph had the epidural drip propped up next to the manger- I’ve seen it in the nativity scenes.

One of our last trips during my pregnancy.

I hired a doula since the husband would be gone for the birth, I took my classes. I was as ready as possible but still pretty darn scared of what labor would actually feel like. People kept saying, well you have done it before, no surprises this time. But it was all surprises. I was so numb the first time I couldn’t tell you what labor actually felt like. And this time the location was new and I was doing this on my own. I was scared.

By 38 weeks she was sitting so low I could barely sit down. I had delivered C at 38 weeks so was 110% sure baby M would make an early appearance as well. When she didn’t I climed stairs, I chased C in the summer heat, I did every old wives tale imaginable-nothing. I started not leaving the house because if one more person asked me something stupid like, still pregnant huh? I was going to kick them in the teeth with a very swollen foot.

A week past my due date C had his first day of Kindergarten. Looking back I think I held on to baby M as long as my body could so that I could see my first baby off to school. It may sound crazy but I went into labor the night after his first day of school. Or maybe baby M was letting C enjoy the spotlight one last time. And I won’t lie, there are a lot of times I miss having an “only” and C getting a bigger share of the love, time, money, on and on. I miss only having to worry about one kid and spending quality time with him without worrying about a baby. I have to set aside time and arrange babysitters now for mom/son dates. And that sucks. But then I see him make her laugh the way only a  silly big brother can and how she lights up when he walks in the room I think he will most likely benefit from this new family member. If nothing else it teaches him self reliance and patience, right? An added benefit (and possibly one of the creepiest things said to me when I announced we would have another baby) is he won’t be alone at my funeral. Seriously. That was said to me.

 

This is all I can manage writing at one time with a 7 month old monster at home. More gory details to follow.