On the other side of the rainbow
The more pregnancies you have, the more aches and pains you get earlier on. With this pregnancy, everything was completely different than with my first full-term pregnancy. I didn't know if things were going to go as I hoped in that I had some pretty scary bleeding/spotting just a few days after receiving the positive pregnancy test. My hopes were dashed after a miscarriage at 9 weeks just a few months before and a series of disappointing pregnancy test results month after month. But, I called the OB/Gyn to schedule an early ultrasound to check for viability, because as luck would have it, I was set to go on the end-of-the-season trip with my winterguard group IMMEDIATELY followed by a trip to Disney World with the band. I needed to know if things were progressing despite my fears.
On the day I was 6 weeks pregnant, I had my ultrasound appointment. Coincidentally, I woke up with the worst nausea that I literally did not shake until a few months later in June. I knew that morning despite my fears, while I pondered if it was better to head to the bathroom or run downstairs for a ginger ale, and that our little kiddo was doing just fine in the mothership. At the appointment, they discussed my spotting (which pretty much resolved a few days later) and did the viability ultrasound. There, I saw the first sign of a new life blossoming inside me - the reassuring fluttering of cardiac activity in the newly formed embryo. To say I was relieved was an understatement... I was so incredibly happy that I wanted to shout to all the ladies in that waiting room that YES I was indeed still pregnant and YES our little one was growing in my body! I did neither of these things, but I certainly felt much better knowing things were progressing as they should be.
An ultrasound taken when I was 6 weeks along - proof that our little one was making strides in the mothership :)
I spent the rest of the first trimester doing my best to keep my composure, all the while feeling nauseated with EVERYTHING I did. I have no idea how I kept teaching class! I pretty much lived on jarred peaches, cheese, and ginger ale for the first trimester. When I revealed to my students that I was pregnant a few weeks before the end of the year as I was heading into the second trimester, they said, "Yeah, we know." I asked how they knew, and they told me that me drinking directly from the jar of peaches is what gave it away. Oops! I was doing my best not to get sick all over my classroom every day - I thought I was doing a pretty good job of hiding how nauseous I was all the time. I guess not!
Sharing with the wider world was just as exciting. Our daughter was SO excited to tell everyone that she was going to become a big sister. We shared the new publicly at the end-of-the-year band banquet, and it was so sweet the number of students that came up to us to congratulate us. I had told my colorguard group a few days after I miscarried earlier that year that we had lost our pregnancy, so a few of the students came with tears in their eyes, knowing how difficult things had been for us over the past few months. It was so sweet, and I won't forget how genuinely happy and excited they all were for us.
The announcement we made to share with the world that we were expecting #2, featuring our very excited (at the time) 3 year old!
The rest of the pregnancy went very well without complication. Once I reached around 16 weeks my nausea began abating, and I started to feel like myself again. I was really enjoying being pregnant, thinking about the future and watching my body expand as it made a home for our little one. I started showing much earlier than my first, and my body made it known to me very early on that I was carrying a baby... my pelvis and back started hurting really early on, and it only got more painful as the pregnancy continued.
It was particularly challenging once school rolled around again for the start of the fall because it was also the start of my third trimester. I had slowly come to terms over the summer that I would experience ALLLLL the struggles of the third trimester, with the swelling, pelvic pain, back pain, shortness of breath, and heartburn, during the height of the football and competitive marching band season. In retrospect, I think being on my feet for all that time was helpful in preparing my body for labor, but at the time I had to steel myself for the amount of pain I would have attending a football game or preparing myself for the mile-long walks from the warm-up areas to the performance field during competitions.
I struggled with completing daily tasks near the end as I got bigger, and everyone asking when I was due, how I'd never make my due date, how big my belly was, "wow looks like you've swallowed a basketball" certainly got old after a while. I took my daughter trick-or-treating for Halloween, and I really struggled to know what to dress up as for Halloween. I settled on poking fun at my belly's size by making it the sun in the solar system. I think it's one of my best costumes to date. :)
The solar system with Spider-Girl :)
At Halloween, I was 37 weeks along. I'd been having Braxton Hicks pretty regularly since relatively early on in my pregnancy, and over the course of the third trimester, I had some pretty challenging ones. By Halloween, each time I had a Braxton Hicks contraction, it was painful, and I had to focus on getting through it. By how many I was having, I knew it wouldn't be very long until I began labor in earnest. But, at 37 weeks, I was hopeful that our son would choose to stay just a few more weeks.
My husband and I prepared differently for this labor than our previous. My last full-term pregnancy had ended in an emergency c-section, after about 36 hours of labor and 2 hours of fruitless pushing. We labored on our own for most of the delivery, and in our naivete and newness to the whole experience, I think we made some decisions which in the end were our downfall in delivering the way we had hoped. This time around, we discussed at length what our options were given that I had a previous c-section. Upon speaking with my OB/Gyn, it was recommended that we set up a repeat c-section since I wasn't a super great candidate for a VBAC given that our previous c-section was due to arrest of descent. Our scar was not a concern, but it was the reason behind the c-section that was. I actually got a hold of my surgical paperwork to really look things over, and I never really progressed past +1 station even with all the pushing I was doing (unmedicated). Our daughter was pulled out of my body at left occiput anterior, which is the prime position for delivery. I still think if we had been provided better care or had someone in our corner to help us during pushing, it would have been possible. Regardless, our daughter was delivered and was healthy, which in the end is the best possible outcome.
We discussed our options with our provider, and after talking through our scenario, we decided that we would schedule a repeat c-section but would be allowed to do a trial of labor (TOLAC) if we went into labor before the scheduled day, and as long as our labor was progressing as it should in terms of time and baby handled contractions fine, we would be allowed to continue our TOLAC. We would not be given the option to induce our labor as induction can increase our risk of uterine rupture. I was completely okay with this because I had high confidence that we would be able to go into labor without issue, seeing as we were not induced for our previous pregnancy.
In addition, we decided to hire a doula for this labor. I agonized over who to hire, as many doulas I found were doing things well outside the scope of their job description, offering medical advice and doing strange things like encapsulating placentas. We interviewed a pair of doulas in our search, and when one of them talked about wishing that she could be the woman in labor and how jealous she was of me preparing to embark on labor, I was feeling down and out about finding one that met the criteria of what we were looking for. We just wanted someone who could provide my husband and I support during our labor without providing medical advice or preventing my medical care team from doing their jobs. After searching for most of the summer, we found an awesome person who had recently moved into our area and had three children of her own. J was a very personable individual, and we were already feeling better about our impending labor with her in our corner.
At our 38 week appointment, I had discussed with the provider I saw that day about the possibility of having my cervix checked and doing a membrane sweep at my 39 week appointment seeing as I'd been having lots of early labor symptoms, including contractions that were now waking me up over night and lasting for a little bit. I knew that my chances for a successful VBAC were best during the 39th week of pregnancy, so I was looking for anything I could do to help labor start during that week. However, I saw a different provider at my 39 week appointment than I had seen for the previous few appointments, and she said there was no need to check my cervix as it really wouldn't tell us anything. So, there was no cervix check or membrane sweep at that appointment, and I left feeling very down and out about the lack of what I had discussed with my previous provider the weeks prior.
Strangely, though, I had this feeling that things were about to move forward in a big kind of way. On the day before 39 weeks, Mercury transited across the sun, which of course I made a big deal to my students about. Then, on the 39th week, we were experiencing a full moon (a Full Beaver Moon... and yes, I also laughed about the symbolism later)... so I just had this feeling. Paired with my painful Braxton Hicks I was having every day, every night, and at seemingly every moment, I knew it couldn't be long.
My last pregnancy progress picture at 39 weeks... little did I know that about 36 hours later from this photo, we would be holding our son!
I spent the evening at home with my family, trying to enjoy what I knew to be the last remaining moments we would have as a family of three. The fear and apprehension I had about our growing family popped up at random times, and I would find myself feeling weepy about how things were going to change. Something big was about to happen. Our daughter was an absolute terror that evening, as if she also knew things were about to be set into motion. As I reflect on that night, I regret not trying to diffuse her more effectively instead of letting my frustration lead, especially seeing as we were about to embark on labor.
After setting our daughter down for bed (after many trials and tribulations), M and I sat and talked for a bit about how I was feeling. Same old contractions here and there, and I let myself feel upset about how my appointment had gone, or NOT gone, as it were. We let ourselves stay up a little too late, trying to enjoy each other's company and lamenting at our daughter's poor behavior earlier in the evening. I nodded off for sleep somewhere around 10pm (late for a teacher!), and I knew I'd be regretting going to sleep so late the next day when my 5:30am alarm rang.
At 11:30pm, I woke up suddenly, aware that I had an achiness that hadn't been there when I fell asleep. I tried to roll around for a bit to see if it would dissipate, but it didn't. It felt like menstrual cramps. I tried not to get too excited because I had been woken up numerous times over the past few weeks with menstrual-like cramps that came in waves and then disappeared after an hour or two. These were really uncomfortable, though, and I thought maybe going to the bathroom would help them abate a bit. Upon going to the bathroom, I saw what I thought to be part of my mucus plug on the toilet tissue... again, not unusual as I'd seen some of it earlier in previous weeks as well. But, my menstrual cramps did not go away, even after going to the bathroom. I tried getting back in bed and rolling around, and I realized they were coming in waves. So, I decided to get my contraction timer out to see what sort of regularity we were having. When I saw that the average was around every 4/5 minutes, I knew something was happening.
Timing of my early contractions from that night
I waited to let my husband know until I had been having these contractions for about an hour. Poor thing had caught a cold about a week and a half earlier, so he had been sleeping on the couch downstairs to separate himself from me to 1) not get me sick and 2) to let me sleep when he would have a coughing fit. I made my way downstairs to let him know that I had been having contractions for about an hour. He was so drowsy as he had taken cough syrup to help him sleep that it took him a good three minutes to register what I was telling him. We decided to wait it out another hour and for me to walk around, bounce on the ball, drink some water, eat something to see if the contractions would go away.
After an hour (or so... it was getting close to 1am by this point), the contractions had still not gone away and were about the same in intensity. I had noticed that they felt different from some of my earlier false labor contractions in that I noticed a tightening in my lower back before the entirety of the menstrual cramp hit the front. These were decidedly different. M had fallen back to sleep on the couch on account of being sick and the medicine, and I let him as I knew he would feel better if he slept a bit. These contractions weren't earth-shattering and certainly quite manageable on my own, working through my breathing and calming techniques I had practiced. After the second hour of regular contractions, we decided to let our doula and his mom know. M's mom was SO EXCITED about things (M had a feeling that tonight would be the night on account of the membrane sweep were *supposed* to have that he preemptively let his mom know to be ready to come to our house) - she had not gone to bed yet and had been preparing to leave the house at a moment's notice. She let us know that she would be on her way soon.
We also decided that it would be a good time to call our OB/Gyn to let them know that something was happening. After speaking with the provider on call, they said that it was up to us whether we wanted to go ahead and come to be checked at the hospital or if we wanted to wait it out a bit. Regardless, they would get our paperwork ready for our eventual arrival, whenever that would be. Our doula got back to us in that time and offered some suggestions of how to take the edge off the contractions, and to let her know when we would plan to head to the hospital so she would be ready to meet us there. Since I had a previous c-section, I needed to be monitored early in the labor to ensure my scar was holding up well. I knew I would need continuous monitoring once being admitted to the hospital, and I was 100% okay with this as the risk of uterine rupture was more present on my mind than the inconvenience of being tied to the monitors.
M drew me a nice warm bath (at the suggestion of our doula), and I tried to relax the best I could. We were in hour 3+ of contractions, so I knew this had to be leading up to the real deal, if not actually the real deal. The contractions were still uncomfortable but bearable, but there were starting to be quite a few that I had to fully concentrate on. Once I got in the bath, I just knew that today would be the day that we met our son.
Time has a funny way of running fast and slow at the same time when you are staying up over night. I would look at the clock and be shocked what time it was, and then I'd glance a few minutes later, shocked at how slowly things were moving. I started having some weird timing, probably on account of the fact that I was starting to fall asleep in between some contractions and would miss one or two. We were still pretty regular when M's mom arrived to be ready to take our daughter to school in the morning, and we were still pretty regular, with a few stretches of contractions 8 to 10 minutes here and there, when we both decided to call out of work for the following day somewhere around 5am. I fell deeply asleep somewhere around 5:30am, and would wake up occasionally to check the timer, start the timer, or stop the timer.
At 6:15am, my daughter's alarm clock went off and both M and I rallied to get her ready for school. She was very surprised when not only Mom and Dad came in to wake her for the day, but GRANDMA was also there! She got excited and she asked us if baby brother was on the way. We told her that we weren't sure, but it was looking like it. She was very excited and bounded out of bed, getting ready for her day with uncharacteristic animation and brightness which is not the norm for her in the mornings. I went downstairs to do my usual breakfast and lunch routine in the morning, and while there I had a few contractions that stopped me from my task. I was also SO sleepy and struggling to get things done. But, we got our daughter ready for school in our usual time frame. I was so tired that I didn't really feel the sadness of the moment, but I did shed a tear as I hugged our daughter for the last time before she went off to school with Grandma. As is my usual morning custom, I stood in our driveway waving at our daughter until she was out of sight, but this time, M stood next to me, holding my hand as we waved. I realize now that it was the last time we would have a moment as a family of three, and the weight of it makes me weepy now.
After sending our daughter off to school, M and I went back inside to try to rest after being up most of the night. We were both tired, and I remarked that I was glad we both called out of school so we could rest. I would have been USELESS in front of a room full of teenagers had I tried to go to school that day. The contractions were spacing out but still painful, so I was able to get some good rest in between some of them. At around 9:30am, M and I were both relatively awake. He was working on the computer to tie up some loose ends at school, and I was luxuriating on the couch in between what were now contractions that were pretty consistently 10 minutes apart. I was not feeling confident that we were truly in labor since things had slowed down and they weren't as bad as overnight. I told M that it would be so embarrassing to have stayed home from school, getting everyone excited that we were in labor, only to go to school the next day still pregnant. He told me that he almost regretted staying home because he had a lot of stuff to do at school. I was starting to feel the same. I told him that I really wanted a chicken biscuit from CFA, so he left and came back with chicken minis, hashbrowns, and coffee. It was absolutely delicious, and I savored every bite.
Then, it happened.
I was sitting on the couch, barely paying attention to the show on the television, trying to nap, when all of sudden, what felt like a big gas bubble moved and popped in my stomach. I sat up immediately and looked at M. "Something weird just happened... it felt like gas. That was so weird... I think my water just broke!!" He was looking at me with a puzzled expression when I felt it, a little tiny trickle making its way down. I put my hand between my legs and hobbled to the bathroom before any more fluid decided to try to exit my body. When I got to the bathroom, I yelled at M to get me a towel and a pad. I was having some fluid escaping that I had no control over... my water definitely broke! I didn't have a big gush, but instead little trickles that were very strange. Then, the mother of all contractions washed over me as I was getting myself situated with a pad and making the decision that my water had broken. This was a real, bonafide contraction, very much unlike the paltry and lame contractions that had kept me up all night. I looked over at M after it passed and said, "I think it's time for us to go." He sprang into action, getting the last bits of our items in our bags and getting the bags into the car. He notified our doula that we thought my water had broken and we were headed to the hospital. He was very smart and prepared my seat with a towel in case things got messier while we were driving to the hospital. Luckily, the Moana towel he grabbed ended up being safe from destruction. I looked at the clock as we walked out of the house - it was around 10:40am, just shy of 12 hours since my first early labor contraction.
I knew the struggle that lay ahead for me in the car on the way to the hospital. Sitting during contractions is like asking a toddler to sit still - impossible. As I had done for my first labor, I used the oh s*** handle to hoist myself up during a contraction so I would not have the pressure of the seat while dealing with it. It worked, mostly. M was awesome and would talk me through my contractions in the car, counting down the number we had left before we made it to the hospital. Upon arrival, he asked if he should park at drop-off so I'd be closer to the entrance or if he should park in the parking lot which was further away. We agreed that once we were in the hospital, I would not want him to leave my side, so we decided to park in the lot and walk. I had to walk up a flight of stairs, which was a challenge as mid-stair another contraction came crashing down. We walked in and were checked-in with speed, which I really appreciated. I asked M to take a picture of me at registration because I was laughing at my choice of attire - the sun shirt I made for Halloween! I knew it was the last time a baby would be adorned in the shirt while still in my womb.
Laughing at my sun belly at registration, clearly between contractions! :)
We were checked in, then moved back to triage to look at my contraction pattern, check on our son's heart rate, verify the my water had broken, and to do my first cervical check of my pregnancy. I got undressed and redressed into the hospital gown. I had a few pretty tough contractions while in triage, and the nurse asked more than once if I was ready for an epidural. What?! I just got here! I'd like to wait it out until I really felt like I need it, thank you very much.
The contraction pattern looked good, with regularity around 4 minutes apart. The paper test turned purple, indeed verifying that I was leaking amniotic fluid due to my water breaking. Our baby was handling each contraction like a champ, and his heart rate was very reassuring. The midwife on call from my provider's office came in to do our cervical check. The cervical check suuuuuucked, but she let us know that we were dilated about 5 - 6 cm, and we would be admitted to continue with our TOLAC because we were having a baby TODAY! I didn't think my lame-o contractions over night were really doing anything because they weren't intense, but I guess they were. Then, a wave of fear washed over me because I realized I had dilated from 4 - 6 cm without being monitored, the range which is most risky for uterine rupture in women with previous c-sections. Regardless, we were at the hospital now and could continue being monitored. Our doula arrived right after my cervical check, and we informed her of the great news. She was ecstatic to hear that I was already dilated that far. We agreed that things were moving along the right way.
We were moved shortly after to the labor and delivery suite. There, I told M and my doula that I really, REALLY had to go to the bathroom. I had noticed the urge right before leaving the house, but I didn't think we really had time for me to go. Our doula recommended that I try to go as toilet contractions were difficult but necessary. I had to wait until my IV was placed as I was group B strep positive, so I needed to start the penicillin infusion ASAP to protect my baby. When the IV was completed, I was unhooked from all the monitors and made my way to the bathroom. It was very weird as I was in the bathroom by myself for privacy, but the door was cracked open so that I could talk to M and our doula when contraction time came. Look, modesty starts to fly out the window when labor happens and gets more intense, so I tried to push my embarrassment of going to the bathroom while people were outside waiting, listening, and talking to me while it was happening. I had one terrific contraction while going to the bathroom, and that was a challenge because other previous contractions I had once J arrived had been helped by counter pressure from both J and my husband. I wanted to be out of that bathroom as quick as I could be.
Once I felt relieved, I made my way back to the bed to be hooked up to the monitors again. My contractions were consistent and they were hurting like hell, so I knew I had to be making progress. I rolled around and faced the back of the bed, holding on to try to make it through while J and M provided counter pressure and hydrated me. I asked to have my cervix checked after a bit because the intensity was increasing, and I was starting to have a hard time coping through them. I wanted to know where we stood. The nurse did the cervical check, and I practically jumped up and down for joy when she said we were at 8cm. It was barely 12pm and we were already at 8cm! Things were definitely progressing MUCH faster than with my first labor. J recommended that I try to do three contractions kneeling on one leg and three contractions kneeling on the other leg. This was where I started to become unhinged. I made it through the three contractions on the right leg, somehow. These were incredibly intense, and I lost myself with each of them. My husband and doula team did their best to bring me back down during the contractions by modeling where the pitch of my vocalization should be and encouraging me to breathe all the while providing counter pressure. I was having intense pain in my lower back. I looked over at M during the second contraction and I told him that I felt sick. I was sad because I really didn't want to throw up the yummy CFA I had eaten that morning for breakfast. I spent the rest of labor making sure that little emesis bag was close in case I needed it.
I switched to kneeling on my left leg to prepare for contractions there. I didn't know how many I was going to be able to handle like this because these were outrageous. I cried between some of them. The first left leg contraction was insane, and I was completely outside of myself and could not be retrieved. Not only was there pain in my lower back and down below, I started feeling some pressure in my bottom. I let J know, and she said that was good because baby was moving where we wanted him to go. The second left leg contraction I literally could not take. Things were progressing so fast and during that contraction I pretty much screamed, cried, and thought I was going to vomit all at the same time. After it was over, I was crying and I told M that I wanted to have the epidural. I was having a really hard time managing myself, and I knew that pushing was not far away. I wanted to try to relax and prepare myself for pushing, as that was where we got stuck in labor for our first. The nurse notified the midwife, who then called for the anesthesiologist.
They only allowed one support person during the placement of the epidural, so M stayed in the room with me while J waited outside. The anesthesiologist worked so quickly, but during the placement of my epidural, I had about three back to back contractions. These were some of the worst. Poor M... I clutched onto his shirt so hard I thought I was ripping it and screamed in his face because of how much pain I was in. I told him that I was having intense pressure down below. During the second contraction (or maybe the third?), the nurse told me that I had to sit still because the anesthesiologist had the needle in my back. I cried and tried to breathe and scream to let the pressure of the contraction out without moving. It was one of the most challenging moments of the labor. I am impressed how quickly the anesthesiologist worked, being super professional and talking us through what he was doing and how quickly he would be finished. Once he taped everything down, I was encouraged to lay down.
J came back in after the anesthesiologist left. The nurse let us know it would take about 30 minutes for the epidural to provide relief. The nurse recommended that I lay on one side for about an hour and then roll over to the other side for another hour to let my body progress but allow me to relax. I started by laying on my left side, with my leg propped up on the stirrup. This was to allow space for the baby to continue moving down while I labored in this position. I think this is what they call "laboring down." The first few contractions were challenging as I couldn't use gravity or being upright to help, but slowly the edge started to come off. They never completely went away, but they started being manageable instead of insanity-inducing like they had been previously. All the while, J and M dutifully provided counter pressure with each one and made me drink water afterward. I asked J to take a picture of us once I was all settled with the epidural. M thought it was silly, but I am glad to have done it. I can have a visual memory to go along with what my mind remembers about that day!
A picture after the placement of my epidural... the one M thought was silly!
After an hour, we switched over to my right side. My left leg was numb in a weird way, and I called it my dumb leg. I couldn't really control it at all, so in rolling over, I flailed it around uselessly and required someone to position my leg properly n the stirrup. With each of the side lying contractions, I felt pressure building in my bottom, so I knew something was happening. I asked to be checked, and the nurse (midwife? I can't remember now) said, "you are complete." I was in disbelief! I had to ask for clarification from M on what she said and he confirmed that we were completely dilated. It was around 2pm when I was checked. I had gone from 6cm - 10cm in about 4 hours... I literally couldn't have asked for a better labor curve than that! I was pretty certain that I experienced transition to complete while getting the epidural placed because DAMN. J agreed, just based on how I was sounding during the epidural placement. Regardless, the midwife confirmed our complete status and said that if I felt pressure then I could start practice pushing while I was set up in the stirrup like I was. I did few pushes while having contractions on my right side as I was starting to feel some building pressure down below with each successive one.
It was decided after I had been laying on my sides for about two hours that it was time to start pushing earnest. It was around 4:30pm when we started. This began what I felt like was the most challenging part of labor, and up to that point, the slowest part as well. We started with my legs in the stirrups, and for each contraction, J held one leg and M held the other. Each contraction brought intense pressure, but it was really hard to find the right spot to bear down. I know that sounds crazy, but I could not figure out which place was most effective. The epidural took the edge off, but in the process is prevented me from feeling everything 100%, which was certainly useful during the pushing stage. Not to say that I felt nothing - I certainly did - but it was hard to find the right spot. My midwife was there at the business end, trying to manipulate while I was pushing to help me find the right place.
After I pushed on my back for around an hour, the midwife suggested a position change. They lowered the foot of the bed and brought in a squat bar. I had used a squat bar during my last labor, but the midwife suggested me to use it differently than I had before. Instead of lugging myself on top of the bar, she suggested curling around my abdomen and pulling myself up slightly with the squat bar. That way, gravity could help me somewhat, but I wouldn't exhaust myself going up and down to the bar. Around this time, I had a mirror placed that showed me my progress. I know that seems so weird, but when you're talking progress of millimeters and centimeters while pushing, it was incredibly helpful. The midwife guided me to bear down to a particular point, and I started making some real progress.
I was starting to get tired, and pushing was painful. You have to push into something that causes you more pain than you've ever felt before, AND you have to overcome it and push past that pain. It is such a mental game of finding your edge and then leaping off of it. I was struggling and at some points I thought I might pass out. During pushing, to really get the power you want, you hold your breath and bear down with all your might. They ended up bringing me some oxygen to help me not get so light-headed, and it really worked. Our son was slowly making it way down, and between contractions I felt pressure that never went away. J was encouraging, telling me that our baby was so close.
I noticed that more activity started happening around the room. More people were coming in, and our midwife was putting on an extra layer. I had gotten very hot while pushing, so all modesty went out the window as I took off the hospital gown and pushed with nothing on. It was strange, all these people in our room, and here I was, wearing my birthday suit and giving absolutely no f***s. It was really difficult at the end, and I was crying saying that I couldn't do it. The midwife, our amazing nurse (who stayed after her shift ended to see our baby born), J, and M encouraged the hell out of me, saying that I absolutely could do it. When the midwife donned her baby catching attire, J looked and M and I and said, "your baby is about to be here!"
The midwife had called one of the OBs of our practice as I had been pushing close to three hours. The OB came in to assess, and she recommended that we might need the use of the vacuum to help deliver our baby. The new nurse, who had taken over for the one we had for most of our labor, looked at me and said, "tell you what. This next set of contractions, let's push really hard so we can deliver your baby before the OB has time to come back with the vacuum." I looked at her like she was crazy, but completely agreed. Using the mirror and hoisting myself up on the squat bar, I pushed and pushed, going beyond what I thought I was capable of. Then I saw my son's head push out past where he had been for the past hour, and within a few seconds, I felt him kick around as he turned, and then with one last push he slid out. He was laid onto my chest immediately and started crying. It was the most unbelievable moment. I was utterly exhausted but feeling a strong sense of joy that welled up intensely inside my heart. I sighed in relief, and then turned to my husband and rejoiced in how we did it. He kissed my forehead, and we both took a look at our son. Our doula said, "what's his name?" And with that, I looked deeply into our son's eyes and spoke his sweet name to him for the first time. I was overcome with emotion and started crying tears of relief and happiness that our son was finally here.
The moment we saw our son for the first time
The rest of delivery was a blur, filled with repair of tears I had and the episiotomy I had during the last push (he came out pretty quick once he crowned) and making sure that my placenta detached fully. I did ask to see the placenta, which M later said was challenging, but I was so curious to see what my body had created to nourish my child over the course of my pregnancy. I am glad I got a chance to see it, even if it is a little weird. We were in the delivery room for about another 45 minutes, where our son breastfed for the first time and we got a chance to get to know each other a little better. I was wheeled to recovery with our sweet baby in my arms, and the rest of our hospital stay was filled with joy, soreness, and (of course) exhaustion. The OB that I had seen in the weeks leading up to delivery came by on the day after to congratulate us on a successful VBAC. She wasn't even there to see us, but she wanted to stop by to say hello. I was grateful to her.
Having our daughter meet her brother for the first time was an emotional experience. We wanted a chance to see her by herself before her brother was brought to meet her, so that she would know how much we had missed her while we were away. She kept asking "where is my brother?" the whole time as she was so excited to meet him. My heart grew that day upon watching her meet him for the first time. Both M and I got emotional as she held him for the first time. It was such a sweet moment that I know I will never forget.
One of our first pictures as a family of four
And here we are, a week and a half from our delivery, trying to figure out what life is like as a family of four. Our son is figuring out day from night, and of course we are living in that sleep-deprived dream state. Things are slowly getting better as he gets better at eating and we get better at understanding what he needs. But, the fears I've had about expanding our family have taken a back seat to the joy I see in my daughter's face when she comes home from school and sees baby brother for the first time or when I stare into his sweet little face as he falls asleep after eating a big meal. I didn't know that heart could expand to love another child as much as I love my first, but here we are. I am so grateful that he is finally here, and that we were able to deliver in the way that we knew we could. Although I'm still so sore and get tired easily, I feel like the strongest person in the world because my incredible body gave life to two beautiful children, enduring the difficulties of surgery the first time and the rigors of delivery the second time. My children are here, alive, and living each day to the fullest, and I could not be happier.
I also want to take the time to appreciate my amazing husband for all the support he provided during labor and delivery, and especially now in post-partum. He has taken the best care in ensuring I am comfortable, fed, and loved during this time. My love for my husband grows with each passing day, and I am so grateful and humbled that we get to share this parenting journey together. I love him with all of my heart.
Our son, Kepler Graeme, born at 7:32pm on November 13, weighing 8lbs 1oz and 20 inches long.
