Eliana's Birth Story

Due Date: July 20, 2017
Induction Date: July 6, 2017
Born: July 7, 2017

A couple months before I was estimated to give birth, my OB-GYN informed me that they were concerned about my lab results and feared I was developing pre-eclampsia.  Pre-eclampsia can go from bad to life-threatening very quickly and they told me the best way to treat it is to deliver the baby.  They sent me for additional testing with the knowledge that if the extra tests showed poor results, they would induce me immediately.  If the tests came back ok, they would wait until 38 weeks.  They ran all kinds of tests and while Ellie was doing beautifully, my protein levels were wonky.  With all the news of maternal mortality, I was terrified but I also appreciated that they were taking it so seriously.  Fun fact: California is one of the best states for addressing maternal mortality rates! So they decided to induce me at 37 weeks to try to avoid possible complications from pre-eclampsia. 

For weeks leading up to my labor, I would have consistent, very strong contractions each night.  They felt much stronger than Braxton Hicks practice contractions and felt like how it felt when I actually went into labor with Jackson.  But they never progressed past 3 hours.  When we called Labor and Delivery they assured me I would know when labor REALLY started because it would feel like the last time I went into labor.  I was frustrated because it already did.  So every night for weeks, I prepared to go into labor and then I didn't.  I felt like I couldn't trust my body and got discouraged.  On top of that, I was already dealing with the grief of the miscarriages, struggling to believe that I would actually birth a live baby since I'd so far only had a 33% success rate, fearing a long induction, and feeling concerned about pre-eclampsia complications.  It seemed like every day someone was posting about another mom who had an easy birthday and then died shortly after from pre-eclampsia.  Google was not my friend.

On June 10, I graduated with my doctorate and prayed I wouldn't give birth on stage.  I did not.  On June 30, we had a baby shower for Ellie in San Jose and everybody was convinced that I wouldn't make it to my induction scheduled for July 6.  I have a lot of anxiety about my mom not making it in time for the labor given her 6 hour drive and I call her...multiple times a day...throughout the week.  Finally, week 37 arrived!

July 6
12pm-5pm: I repeatedly call my mother and urge her to leave immediately after work and not wait to sleep a little since I still don't think this is going to take very long
6:30pm - We wake up late from our family nap and rush to get McDonalds before taking Jack to stay with our dear LifeGroup friends who had volunteered to watch him during our labor.
7pm: We call labor and delivery and they give us the all clear to come in for my induction.
7:02pm: I call my mom again and discover they are on the road.  I feel relieved.

8pm - 9:30pm: We get checked into the hospital and settle into our room.  Our nurse, Nicole, arrives and introduces herself.  She has a thick southern accent and she is warm and kind.  She tells us a bit about herself and then begins to fill in my chart.  I am impressed by the kinds of questions she asks.  She asks my baby's name, who's on my support team, and about my birth plan/preferences.  She writes down my answers on the big dry erase board for the hospital team to see.  I had a much looser birth plan this time and just wanted to birth a living baby.  I noted that I would prefer to do things as naturally as possible and with as little intervention as possible.  She asks how I feel about epidurals and I say that I'm open if I need one but that I would prefer not to have one.  She writes that on the board then looks at me and tells me that since I would prefer not to have one, she will never mention it again so I can focus on choosing my own ways to cope with pain but that should I want one at any time, I only need say the word and she would get it for me as soon as she could.  I wanted to hug her. Near the end of the check in, she asks about my biggest hopes for the labor, how I expect my life will change with this baby, any personal/religious preferences they should be aware of, and my biggest fears and concerns.  I tell her I don't need anything special as long as they're ok with me playing my Jesus music.  She very quietly whispers that she likes Jesus music too.  She makes sure to involve Chris in the questions too.  I am so impressed with this thoughtful line of questioning and I share about my miscarriages, fears of losing another baby, fears of having a scary labor experience, and bad experience with cervical checks with my last labor (I was uncomfortable and a large nurse held me down while they checked me).  She listened and ensured me they would do everything they could to make this labor a peaceful one that ended with a healthy, living baby.

She showed me the monitors in the room that were tracking every laboring woman in the hospital.  They had them in every room and in the nurses' station so that the nurses and doctors could see how everybody was doing at any given time from anywhere. You could see the babies' heartbeats and the contractions as they were happening.  The contractions looked like big heartbeat lines that went up during the contraction and back down at the end of the contraction.  The higher the line the bigger the contraction.  The longer the line, the longer the contraction.  Chris pointed to one woman's contraction graph whose line was erratic and broken and all over the place and said "Is she ok???"  That gave us a good laugh.  I really liked the monitors and so did Chris.  He could watch the contractions as they were happening and tell me "Ok...it's almost at the peak...you're almost there.  It'll be over soon."  Also, I think he could fully appreciate how much it must have hurt when he saw the line go all the way to the top of the screen.

10pm - 11:30pm: An IV is inserted into my hand.  The team does some lab workups for the pre-eclampsia stuff.  Nicole arranges for all labs to be drawn from the IV so I don't have to be stuck twice.  The lab technician forgot one test and had to come back to draw a vial from my arm and had to stick me again.  I completely understood but they were so apologetic since they were trying to make things as easy as possible for us.  The midwife comes in and I love her immediately.  She is calm and patient and very gentle.  She looks fairly young...like we're close to the same age.  But she has the peaceful presence of a grandmother.  She says that the doctor had planned to participate due to the induction but since everything seemed ok at this point, if nothing bad happened the doctor would not come.  I was completely ok with that. The midwife answers all our questions and shares the plan.  I will be given one half of a pill to thin my cervix, then 1 whole pill 6 hours later, then another pill 6 hours after that and so on until I've had a max of 4 pills or until my cervix is thin enough for them to give me pitocin.  I'm nervous about the pitocin (which artificially induces the contractions) because I'd heard the artificial induction seems to make the contractions worse and then of course because of all the anti-pitocin information out there especially after the documentary "Business of Being Born."  The midwife and nurse warn it could take 2 days.  The midwife says the pill I'm supposed to take is misoprostol and I tear up because I have a strong negative association with that word as it was the pill I took to complete the miscarriages.  She smiles softly and says "Well let's call it something else then!  We'll call it miso."  So they gave me half a pill and told me they'd be back to check on me soon.  They asked if they could check me and I asked if I had the option to say no.  The midwife said "Of course!  If you get an epidural, they'll probably want to check, but it's not especially critical to have one at this point."  I want to kiss her and also want her to put that in writing for me to show that nurse from Jack's birth...

July 7
Midnight - 2am: I put on Maid in Manhattan and go on facebook.  I play Candy Crush and Solitaire.  We had packed some food and I eat.  I felt contractions at about 1 am but they were the same level, intensity, and time as it had been happening for weeks.  When the nurse comes in, she says "Oh!  The contractions have started already!!" and I verify that these are legit contractions.  She says "Oh yes.  Good ones!" and I feel validated that I HAD been having true contractions and wasn't just a weakling who thought Braxton Hicks were true.  I learned later that I had been having what was called prodromal labor.  Anyway.  She asks how I'm handling it and I say I'm fine because I've gotten used to this level of pain so it was no big deal.  Chris decides to take a nap given that this might take a while and he wanted to ensure he was ready and rested.

2:30am: My parents arrive.  My dad is feeling sick so he refuses to come near me and sequesters himself in a waiting room outside the labor and delivery department.  My mom comes into the room and her knee is banged up because she'd tripped and fallen really hard when she was walking into the hospital.  The nurse gives her a bandaid but won't give her anything else (like a Tylenol) without her going downstairs and checking into the ER for liability reasons.  She decides she's ok.  My contractions are present but I'm still doing ok.  My mom decides to take a nap with Chris.

3am-5am: Ouch.  The contractions are getting big and strong.  I'm no longer able to happily scroll through facebook.  I put my birth playlist on and listen through my earphones.  I try to remember to breathe.  Chris wakes up and coaches me through the contractions, playing with my hair and rubbing my back. I want to wander around but they have me hooked up to monitors for both my heart and Ellie because of all the precautions.  I'm really frustrated and want to be disconnected but it's not the end of the world.  I feel like I have to poop and the midwife, nurse, Chris, and my mom have a legit discussion in front of me about whether or not to let me poop.  The midwife ensures me that I'm getting close and it may not be poop but actually the baby and she's afraid I'll poop the baby out into the toilet.  I don't want a cervical check so they can't be sure how far I am.  The contractions don't feel as bad as they did at the end with Jackson so I feel fairly confident it's poop.  So they compromise and allow me to poop in the bathroom alone only if Chris is in there with me and if I don't push during contractions.  So, we put our relationship to the test and Chris, without even blinking, goes in to hold me while I poop.  Marriage, man.  lol.  I'm leaning on him and he's holding me up on the potty and each time I get a contraction, I stand up and hold on to him for dear life.  I successfully poop without birthing my baby into the toilet.

5am-6am: Owwww.  Ok now I remember how bad it can get.  I agree to be checked but it hurts too bad so they stop.  I take my earphones out and let my birth playlist of Jesus music play from my laptop into the room.  I keep it on for the rest of labor.  Nurse Nicole comes it at one point and sings softly, almost sheepishly, along to "Holy Spirit" by Francesca Battistelli.  I have to shut out all noise and focus through each contraction.  I lay on my side and Chris stands on one side of the bed facing me and my mom stands on the other.  I ask them to not move and let me push against them with each contraction.  Chris watches the monitor and talks me through the peaks: "Ok you're almost at the worst part...ok it's going back down now.  You're almost done with this one.  It'll end soon."  I'm focusing all my energy on getting through the pain and resting in between contractions so I'm not moving and can't see the monitor anymore.  But I can hear my mom and Chris talking about how big they are.  Since I've only been in labor for about 6 hours, I'm starting to feel scared that I'll be like this for 2 more days.  Jackson's labor lasted 26 hours and they warned me that this induction could take even longer.  The nurse comes in and says she thinks I'm in transition.  I'm in disbelief because I know that's near the end and I was expecting it to take longer.  She insists that she can tell by how I'm talking that I'm in transition; that my voice has changed and how I'm responding to her has changed.  I'm fascinated by that.   The nurse gets really close and says that based on her years of experience she would bet that I would have that baby before 8am.  I shout "That's only 2 hours away!" and she smiles and says "I know."  I have a hard time believing her but I'm encouraged that maybe I can do this for two more hours.

6am-7am: I am no longer interacting much with the outside world.  It takes every fiber of my being and mental energy to focus through the pain.  It hurts so bad that my body is trembling after each contraction.  The contractions are very close together and I only have about 30-60 seconds to rest in between them. I can hear them talking around me and I'm still convinced I'll be like this for another day.  The nurses keep trying to adjust Ellie's heart monitor but I don't want to be touched during contractions and I think I shout "DON'T TOUCH ME!" and then immediately after "I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I yelled at you." I hear them talking asking if my water has broken but not wanting to touch me.  I can feel bulging and literally as they're speaking, I feel it burst and I shout "It broke! It broke!"  In between contractions, they gently lift my leg to see.

I asked Nurse Nicole if it's too late to get that epidural and she says I could have it if I wanted but that I'm so close that by the time it kicked in the baby would be here anyway so I might as well just try to hold on a little longer.  And still, I don't believe her.  But another contraction hits so I don't have energy to argue.  After it's over, I express my disbelief and she puts her face close to mine and says "Sarah, you're so close that the midwife is outside the room preparing the tray and putting on gloves as we speak."  WHAT??  Right after she said that, the midwife came in, fully suited up and with the gloves on.  I tell her that the pain is too big and that I think I'd like an epidural now.  She smiles sweetly and says that's it's too late because the baby is coming out now.  And still...if you can believe it...I don't believe her!  She pulls up a little stool at the end of the bed, sits in it, and folds her hands.  I start to feel panicked and ask what I'm supposed to do.  She just sits there, hands still folded, and says "Whatever your body tells you to do."  I think something along the lines of "This b is crazy" and keep asking questions.  "Should I lay down? When should I push?"  She answers each question with some variation of "Whatever your body tells you to do."  I get annoyed and think "Fine.  If you're not going to answer my questions, I'll just do whatever I want."

7:15am: I get on my knees in the bed, facing the wall away from the rest of the room.  I lean on to the top of the bed.  "Is this ok?"  "Whatever feels right to you."  I go through a few contractions like that while I hear some rustling of preparation behind me.  I can hear other people in the room, preparing for the baby.  I'm still feeling a little in disbelief.  But then I feel the urge to push.  "I think I want to push!"  Still sitting, she says, "Ok.  Listen to your body.  Push when it tells you to."  She gives me literally no instructions.  This is so different that with Jack when they told me when to push and how to push.  So I stay in that upright on knees position and start to push.  I couldn't really see anything because I was facing the wall.  My body seemed to take over and stopped and started the pushes with the contractions.  I expected pushing to hurt but it felt like a huge relief.  She is still sitting but starts to give encouragement.   After about 2-3 contractions, I could feel the burning of the "ring of fire" as Ellie started to crown.  Chris starts to film and the midwife finally stands up.  I could feel her coming out and after her head was delivered I suddenly got scared and said "Pull her out pull her out!" but they reassured me that I was almost done and that I just needed to keep pushing. 

One more push and she was delivered at 7:28am on 7/7/17.  "Savior King" by Hillsong was playing and she came out completely covered in white sticky vernix.  A new nurse, not Nicole, had arrived sometime during the delivery and she was roughly rubbing all the vernix off and I had to tell her to kindly back off so I could look at my baby.  I had to untangle myself from the cord and my hospital robe to turn around and take her into my arms.  Her fingers and toes were so long and thin and looked so dainty.  They pushed on my stomach while I was delivering the placenta and it hurt really bad.  She had to give me one tiny stitch while I held Ellie and it hurt since I hadn't had any pain medication.  After I held Eliana for an hour and tried to nurse, it was time for her to be cleaned and weighed.  While they did that, I asked if I could take a shower because I was covered in all kinds of fluids.  There was blood and vernix everywhere and it looked like a crime scene.  She brought a robe for me to wear from the bed to the bathroom and I said "Why? For what???? Everybody in this room has already seen my vagina" and I walked myself to the shower.  Chris, in stark contrast to our first labor experience where he followed me around the room trying to cover me, just laughed and said "Yeah she's definitely not gonna put that on."  It was amazing to just stand up and shower an hour after birth.  I felt amazing.  When I returned, the crime scene had been cleaned and Ellie was getting her hair washed.  It was perfect.  Our dear friend Cheri brought Jackson to meet Ellie the next morning and she had allowed him to pick a present to give to her.  They were fast friends and my heart burst with joy.  I felt so good, we asked to leave the hospital so we could sleep in our own bed and they let us!

This labor and delivery was so healing in every way: a perfectly healthy, beautiful baby was born.  The labor was super short (a measly 8 hours!) and (relatively) easy, with very minimal intervention.  I was able to have the experience of listening to my body which did exactly what it needed to do.  The nurse and midwife were gentle, encouraging, and supportive of our choices.  I was at peace and surrounded in person and in spirit by a loving, supportive community.  The baby we prayed so hard for was finally here and ready to join the huge tribe that already loved her.  And in the past year, she has joined the roster of my very favorite people in the world.

Eliana Yvonne Hill and big brother Jackson

Angel's Birth Story: A Miscarriage

I've just learned that October is an "Awareness" month for pregnancy/infant/child loss.  I wrote a birth story for my first baby that I celebrate and share openly.  But my second pregnancy ended abruptly, unexpectedly and I don't have a birth story.  October 8th was my due date for my second baby.  There hasn't been a day I don't think about the baby.  I don't know what to say or do.  When I was pregnant with Jack I read tons of birth stories.  I still love to read them.  When I had my miscarriage, I looked for those stories too, but there were far fewer.  I wanted to know what to expect.  The doctor didn't have very much to say.  Apparently, it's very common but she didn't even have a pamphlet...they had them for all kinds of things: breastfeeding, formula, nutrition, vaccines, STDS, birth plans, but no miscarriage information.  So I googled.  And by the grace of God, a few women reached out and shared their stories.  Those stories still resonate in my heart today and truly truly were what I could hold onto as I was going through it.  I am beyond thankful for these women sharing the details of their experience.  I'm also thankful for the strangers that shared theirs online too.  Since I never got to meet this baby, I don't really get a lot of opportunities to talk about the baby.  I actually appreciate when people ask, even though I don't have much to say.  So I'll share my birth story, for myself and anybody who needs to read it.

I found out I was pregnant on February 1st.  I took a test by myself when I first woke up, went to the mall, bought a salad I had a strong craving for, and bought a shirt for Jack that said "Awesome Big Brother."  I texted my husband and asked if I could come hug him before work.  He was annoyed because he was busy planning and I think he was in the middle of doing his devotionals.  I went in and handed him the pregnancy test.  His sour mood immediately lifted and he started smiling and giggling.  He covered me in hugs and kisses and I went to my job.  I sent a picture of Jack's t-shirt to my mom and my best friend and listened to their reactions as they opened the text, squealing and screaming.  I followed up my text to my mom with a request not to tell anyone, but she had already told her boss, who was sitting next to her.  I was excited.  Our circle was excited.  I've never really jived with that not telling anybody until 12 weeks thing because I'm terrible at keeping a secret and I don't like the rationale behind it, so we announced it publicly.

We'd had an early ultrasound to confirm the pregnancy and the due date.  The night before my routine appointment to hear the heartbeat, I felt extremely nervous.  I would be going alone and it was going to be the first OB/GYN appointment that I would ever attend without my husband, who was taking care of our son who was sick.  I told Chris I couldn't shake the fear that there wouldn't be a heartbeat even though there was no evidence to point toward that.  So he, Jack, and I prayed and we ascribed my feeling to my persistent irrational anxieties.

The next day, I went to work and excitedly shared that I would get to hear my baby's heartbeat that day.  I remember it was International Women's Day and was feeling super girl-powery, baking a human and all.  I talked to my best friend on the way and reiterated what I'd shared with Chris about my fears and she also prayed and reassured me that everything would be ok.  I cheerfully texted Chris while I was there, noting that the doctor had asked about him.  I remember she was wearing a small gold necklace and a bright orange top.  She asked me the typical questions and started the routine ultrasound while making small talk.  Her voice got quieter and slower and I knew it before she said it.  I stared at her necklace.  She tried different angles.  While I was staring at her necklace, I could see she was holding her breath.  Her chest wasn't moving.  Her jaw was clenched.  She removed the ultrasound probe and I could hear her take a deep breath before she said "I'm so sorry, but there's no heartbeat."  I broke into silent tears and she hugged me and then left the room.  I called Chris and told him through tears and I still remember hearing him scream "NO. NO. Noooo." and he told me that he would come get me.  The doctor came back in and everything was a blur.  I met her in her office and put Chris on speakerphone while she gave us options.  She told us to take our time and offered to give us additional ultrasounds before we made our final decision.  She was kind and gentle, but she stopped using words like "baby" and words like "tissue" and "pregnancy" and I wanted to scream at her.  I drove myself home because I didn't want to worry about my car.  I couldn't stop crying and my toddler came up to me and starting singing a song from Daniel Tiger: "It's ok...to be sad...sometimes...little by little...you'll feel better again."  I felt love and appreciation and grief and pain.

We told our friends and family and people cried and screamed with us and for us and for our baby.  I became uncharacteristically reclusive.  As a talker, oversharer, and external processor, I was surprised that I didn't really want to talk to anybody.  I read and appreciated every text.  And ignored almost every call.  It was like my voice wasn't working.  I caught my son's flu and got so sick I could barely move.  I felt it was cruel to be experiencing this trial on top of the miscarriage.  My dear friend took off work to come sit with me while Chris was at work.  My body hadn't started anything on its own, except for some very light spotting.  My body actually still thought I was pregnant.  And it was emotionally hard to walk around with my deceased baby in my body.  I felt stuck between the bad news and the mourning.  Eventually, after a week of waiting and with another ultrasound, we chose to take a medication called misoprostol, which would induce the labor-like miscarriage.  She encouraged us to get babysitting for at least 3 days, preferably a week.  She also gave us very strong painkillers and told me to prepare for extreme pain.

The following is graphic.

We went to stay with my parents.  I took the painkillers.  My grandmother covered the bed and floor with plastic, as we had been advised there might be a lot of blood.  I had to insert the pills inside of my vagina and it was one of the most disturbing things I've ever had to do.  I was surprised by how upsetting it was.  I kept re-reading messages from a school friend who had shared what happened to her in detail and what to expect.

I had to stay still in bed for at least 1 hour after inserting the medication.  I'd gone on Facebook and asked friends to send me funny things to distract me.  I read those things and was actually able to laugh.  After a while, I felt a strong pressure, then a pop, and called Chris in.  He helped me to the bathroom and placed a kiddie potty in the normal one to catch the tissue (he didn't want to flush our baby down the toilet and we didn't want to clog the toilet).  In there, I felt enormous pressure very similar to a strong contraction and then I passed large amounts of tissue the size of my first.  The lumps looked like pieces of bright red liver.  I burst into tears and felt like I couldn't get through this.  Chris removed the bucket, helped me cover myself back up, and took me back to bed.  Then he stayed in the bathroom to clean up the blood, take out the lumps of tissue, and place them in a jar.  This became our routine.  Every couple hours, the same thing would happen.  The first day was absolutely horrible, physically and emotionally.  It felt extremely uncomfortable but the pain wasn't too bad for me at all.  The painkillers made me a little loopy so I just took some ibuprofen.  Near the end, I passed a gray blob that had a form and a little dot.  It looked...human...and when I saw it I lost it.

After 2 days, it seemed the worst was over and I was bleeding heavily but no longer passing clots.  We went to the local mall to try to walk around a bit.  It was almost Easter and I wanted a book for Jackson about Jesus.  While I was kneeling down to pick up a book, I passed another large clot and felt panicked that it actually wasn't over.  Chris had the idea to have a funeral and bury our baby in my parents' back yard.  I was nervous about the closure of a funeral if everything actually wasn't over... I felt jaded and upset so Chris planned everything himself.  He got a shovel, dug a hole, chose a scripture, and gathered my parents, grandmother, son, and called his parents and put them on speakerphone.  We were out there for less than 10 minutes.  Everybody got a chance to say something, Chris said a prayer, Jackson threw dirt into the hole.  I played my "miscarriage song" and that was it.  I was thankful for my husband and for the opportunity to honor our baby.

We went home right before Easter.  On Good Friday, I couldn't sleep and lay in the middle of the floor crying for our baby and wondering if the pain would ever go away.  I was strangely comforted by the thought of Jesus, alone and in pain too.  I didn't think about the resurrection that day.  During all that pain, I felt very loved and protected and comforted by both God and my support system.  I felt vulnerable and it was like they covered me with their wings and cried with me.  My college friends sent me a day of relaxation to use as I transitioned back to work.  My dear mommy-friend sent a gift for Jack and a bracelet with my baby's birth stone.  People acknowledged that my baby existed and that there was a hole in the world where they should be.  It was validating and beautiful and needed.

Even though we never got to meet the baby, we also never get to forget.  I was astounded by the degree of resonance this scene from This Is Us had for me.  As a mommy with a living, healthy baby who I love with my whole heart, the pain for the (two) lost babies still resounds loudly in my heart:

So.  Here we are.  7 months, to the day after I got that horrible news.  And on the day that our baby may have been born.  I am doing well.  Very well, I think.  But the grief comes randomly and strongly.  I don't think I ever want to forget, even if it means the pain won't go away.  I would like to honor my baby with my life: in my mothering, in my listening to other women, in my speaking about our experience.  I do not understand.  That's ok.

My baby lived and was loved fiercely for its entire life.  I never got to meet this baby.  But, we chose a name: We named the baby Angel.  It helped.

Jackson's Birth Story

                                     9 months in (in labor)                                                       9 months out!

 Jackson's Birth Story 

Since today marks 9 months of Jack Jack being outside the womb, I thought I'd finally write down the story of how he made his escape. 

His due date was August 26 which was the day before our 2 year anniversary so Chris planned a mini trip to the Long Beach Pier on August 17th.  We decided to celebrate the birthday of my grandmother, whose actual birthday is August 18th, on the 16th because I had a strange feeling that I wouldn't make it much longer.  I finished my finals early in the wee hours of the 16th because, again, I felt like I wasn't going to make it much longer.  I hadn't been checked or anything and wasn't having a whole bunch of labor signs...just a strange feeling.  I also had zero nesting instincts which everybody told me would immediately precede my labor.  Our apartment was a mess (so much so that my parents and grandmother went to clean it while we were in the hospital...don't judge.) 

So here's the timeline... 

August 16th:  

noon - Chris' job throws us a super sweet joint baby shower. 

2pm - I go use a giftcard from my dance peeps to get my nails done. 

6pm - we head to my parents' house to celebrate my grandmother. 

12am - we get home.  Chris gives me instructions on what time I need to be up in order for us to have sufficient time for our anniversary festivities before he has to be at work at 3pm. 

1am onward...I BARELY sleep. 

August 17th: 

7am- Chris goes to men's prayer 

8am- Chris returns and drags/rolls me out of bed 

*as soon as I get up I notice that I feel different.  Jackson is barely moving and for the past 4 months or so he'd been waking me up with a barrage of kicks to various organs.  Even though I am usually a worrywort, I am not concerned at all and have a weird peace.  I mention the difference to Chris and assure him that everything's fine.  He thinks nothing of it. 

8:45am - we finally head to the pier. 

9:30am - we arrive at the pier and I feel an extreme amount of pressure as I'm getting out of the car.  As we're walking into the aquarium, I feel even more uncomfortable that I have been feeling and I feel like I can't walk very fast. 

9:30 - 10am - we walk around and I mention that I feel like maybe I'm having tiny contractions.  Chris thinks it's possibly Braxton Hicks because it's not time yet!!!  I have a weird feeling and feel strangely confident that SOMETHING is going on down there.  We have to stop A LOT as we waddle around. 

10:30am - We grab some food and I call my mommy to tell her what I think is happening and get her thoughts.  I have a contraction while on the phone and she tells me she thinks this is the real deal.  I start to feel a combination of TERROR, disbelief, and confidence.  The food is not settling with me but Chris, remembering our labor classes, tries to get me to eat so I'll have the energy to push a human out of me.  While we're eating, we experience a small girl being traumatized by the violent death of three birds slamming into a too-clean window.  It was disturbing and we left the area after the aquarium people arrived.  Chris gets a piece of paper and starts tracking the contractions. 

11:30am - Chris asks me what I want to do since he'd bought tickets for some show and for a boat ride.  I decide I want to try to walk around as much as I can and we'll take it hour by hour.  So we line up for our boat ride and I struggle to exactly pinpoint when a contraction stops and starts.  We do our best to estimate.  People come up to talk to me because my large belly is a people magnet.  While on the boat, I looove the wind blowing on my face and the ability to sit down through the contractions and I manage to fall asleep on Chris' shoulder for a while.  I remember the family behind us was talking SO LOUDLY and I was so irritable that I wanted to turn around and say: "Stop having so much fun!!!"  lol.  I also remember noticing a couple in front of us that seemed to be on a first or second date and it was adorable...although they were drinking a lot. 

1pm - The ride is over and I decided that I don't think that I want to stay any longer.  I want to be home...in my own bed and preferably naked.  So we discuss how long we think this labor will take and wonder if Chris should call someone to cover his shift.  We decide it's best to do it earlier than risk him having to leave in the middle.  His coworkers are super sweet and have it covered, as usual. =).  The car ride back is a small slice of hell. 

2pm - 11pm - I labor at home...naked.  =)  First I try to clean but then I text a friend and she and her recently-having-given-birth/doula sister strongly suggest that I SIT MY TAIL DOWN AND REST.  They offer to come help but I refuse.  I order a gift card for a friend because I hadn't done it yet and didn't think I'd remember after I gave birth.  The lady on the phone is only slightly weirded out by my contraction sounds.  Chris cleans and brings me snacks.  He reminds me of my labor plan and brings in the birth ball.  When I curl up during contractions, he loudly reminds me to open my hips up so I don't fight against the labor.  After I fantasize about punching him in the face, I try some of the open labor positions.  THEY. HURT.  It makes the contractions feel a million times worse.  Contractions, for me, felt like a combination of diarrhea pains, running cramps, burning in my lower belly, and SEARING KNIVES IN MY VAGINA.  Chris runs me a bath and it feels AMAZING...too amazing.  I get nervous that I'm slowing my labor down or something because I can no longer feel the contractions so I get out.  I weirdly knew that my body needed to do that very painful thing.  I take a 1-2 hour nap before I'm woken up by intensifying contractions. 

August 18th: 

12 midnight - after a chat with the labor and delivery department, we decide it's time to make it over to the hospital.  Chris packs everything but the kitchen sink and I start to lose my patience with how long he's taking.  As the contractions get stronger and stronger, I try to visualize my vagina opening up (I know it's your cervix that opens but I don't know what that looks like lol) and focus all my energy on trying not to hold any tension in my body.  That concentration makes the time go by a little faster but it's also making me mentally exhausted (on top of the physical exhaustion).   

2am - we get signed in to L&D and they come to check my dilation.  I HATE vaginal exams and I. Freak. Out.  Chris knows I hate these exams and came prepared.  This man asks everyone to leave the room once I start getting upset and takes out his computer and a CD that I brought home from school that was titled "Relaxation Exercises."  He had planned to have me do them in order to decrease my anxiety.  He's amazing.  However, he didn't realize that it was a CD of my professor giving a lecture on the usefulness of relaxation exercises.  Lol.  It's the thought that counts.  A big, burly lady doctor comes in and they literally hold me down while they check me while Chris whispers soothing things to me and shoots the doctor dirty looks.  PS: There MUST be a better way for them to do that...  They tell me I'm on the cusp of being admittable so I can choose to go home or be admitted.  I think it will be a waste of time to go home (30 minutes away) just to come back in a few hours so we are admitted. 

*the pain of contractions got so intense at this point that I was quite out of it.  My family filled me in on some things and other aspects I only vaguely remember. 

2:30am - the combination of labor pains and that stupid vaginal exam make me CRANK-Y and I am quite short with the nurses.  We share our labor plan and one of the nurses is slightly sassy.  Boooooo. 

3am - I'm settled into my room and in the throes of labor now.  They underappraise the strength of my contractions throughout my entire labor.  Chris texts my mom to let her know we've been admitted.  

3am-7am - OUCH.  Labor pains are the WORST.  Chris keeps telling me to take a walk in the labor garden, as we'd planned.  I keep telling him to shut up.  He does not like being told to shut up and tells me so.  I apologize.  The labor room is HUGE with a big shower that has a chair in it.  I turn the water on full blast/high heat and get in multiple times.  I keep my clothes off after the first shower and Chris keeps trying to discreetly put robes on me, which I very quickly shuck off.  It feels so much better but the contractions are so painful it feels like the room goes black with each one.  Chris falls asleep at some point and first I look at his sleeping body like "did this negro just fall asleep in the middle of my labor??" but then I decide that I don't mind because if he's sleeping he's not talking about what I now deem my STUPID labor plan.  lol.  Future labor plans: Have baby.  lol  Later I see Chris' texts to my mother and they seem a little desperate like PLEASE GET HERE MOTHER IN LAW DEAR LORD I NEED HELP THIS WOMAN IS CRAZY.  They didn't actually say that but I read in between the lines.  They keep offering me an epidural and I keep refusing.   

7am-10am - my mother, grandmother, and father arrive.  I am now blacking out in between contractions.  Apparently that is normal.  o_O  My grandmother has brought Chris some McDonalds and opens the bag to give it to him.  At the time, the sound is equivalent to nails on a chalkboard and the SMELL is like a violent assault on my nerves and stomach.  So I say (possibly growl) GET THAT OUT OF HERE NOW.  My father and grandmother literally scurry from the room and do not return for hours.  Chris takes another (much needed) nap and I mumble to my mother to apply counterpressure to my back with each contraction (ie...PUSH ON MY BACK AS HARD AS YOU CAN!  DON'T BE SHY!).  I am very quiet throughout most of this, focusing all of my energy on concentrating through the contractions.  Sometimes I moan softly because I feel like it helps me open up.  My parents later said they were VERY surprised by how calm I was (I'm usually a rather loud/dramatic person).  I. was. focused.  My mother says that at one point a doctor comes in (I have ZERO recollection of this) and I firmly command him to "do something about all this light in here."  I felt like all my senses were SO HEIGHTENED and every sound, sight, smell, sensation was so intense.  The doctor looked around the room like "I don't know what she wants me to do..." but he sweetly went to the window to try to rearrange the blinds.  lol  I think that's precious.  I'm feeling like I'm in a lot of pain and they offer intravenous drugs.  I accept those.  They do nothing except make me feel even groggier.   

10:30am - I have officially been in labor for 24 hours and awake for the better part of 48.  I. am. exhausted.  I feel like I don't have much energy left to push.  The nurses don't believe I've progressed much but I feel strangely confident that I'm very close.  Something in me knows I'm really close to the end and I ignore them when they tell me it will take a lot longer because I'm probably only 5 or so centimeters dilated.  WHATever, lady.  I feel like I don't think I'll be able to put my energy into pushing and since the Labor Plan Police (ie my sweet husband) is asleep, I whisper the nurse over and request an epidural.  STAT.   

11am - I get an epidural.  It was the easiest part of this whole process.  Chris wakes up while they're bringing it in and is quite annoyed I made the decision without him, ESPECIALLY since my labor plan specifically dictated that he is to try to talk me out of me 3 times.  Lol.  At that point, I looked at him like..."listen...I need you to stand here and hold my hand while I get this needle put in my back.  Cuz it's happening sir.  It's happening."  The anesthesiologist was AMAZING.  She even came later that night and the next day to check on me. 

11:02am -epidural kicks in and I fall promptly asleep.  lol.  It was amazing.  I felt pressure but no pain. 

12noon - I wake up to the sound of my father and grandmother coming in.  My father, remembering my earlier growl, sheepishly asks if he can hug me.  He says that I smiled at him and shouted "SURE!!!  Do you guys want to watch the labor!!?!?  Come on in!!!  Happy birthday grandma!"  I was feeling AWESOME at that point.   

12pm - they come to do a vaginal exam and I cheerfully reply "sure!" and found that I was at a 9.  They were shocked since they surely thought I wasn't progressing quickly.  I resisted the temptation to say "duh" or "I told you so."  The nurse jokes around with me and tells me how the nurse that checked me in told her that I was going to be a handful when they switched shifts.  She shows Chris the bulging waters and tells us that she'll need to call the doctor to pop it.  As she points at it, it pops.  lol.  She says,"nevermind."  However, she notices meconium in the fluid which means Jack Jack pooped in there.  Sweetly and calmly, she comes over to me and whispers that although she's not worried at all, she's going to call the NICU team to come just in case there's an issue.  She says it so quietly that nobody else hears her.  She says it so sweetly that I'm not concerned at all.  The nurse tells me we're gonna do some practice pushes.  She tells me to push like I'm pooping while she counts to 10.  She offers to put a mirror up so I can see.  I feel weird about it but since everybody else can see down there, I decide I want to see too.  She tells me to reach down and feel his head and I remember thinking that it felt the same as the jellyfish we touched at the aquarium.  We hadn't talked about it, but I notice that Chris is filming and I'm very ok with that.  (I'm SO glad it was filmed and I got to see the birth later).  So I push and she says that I'm ready and it's time.  I am in disbelief.  This is it???  It's time???  She warns me that it could take a while to push him out. 

12:10-12:18 - The doctor (who I'd never seen) comes in and a whole team of people (the NICU) file in around the baby bassinet thing.  She pours some sort of oil stuff on my lady parts and tells my mom to grab a leg.  She grabs the other one and Chris tries to find a good camera angle.  My grandmother stands there looking teary eyed.  My father goes into the corner probably because he doesn't want to see his daughter's vagina.  He says it was because he didn't want to see me in pain and kept waiting for that part.   I start pushing.  Everyone can see Jackson coming out and they start shouting in excitement.  He pops his head around the corner to look when we start shouting excitedly.  I can no longer see much because the doctor is blocking the mirror and I think I was closing my eyes during pushes.  I think I only pushed through 3 contractions and then... 

12:28pm.  Jackson was born.  =)  I didn't cry.  I just looked at him with shock and wonder.  I remember feeling surprised that he came out alive.  I think part of me was expecting him to come out as an egg that I would later need to sit on to hatch or something.  I dunno...  They quickly pass him to the NICU team and the Labor Plan Police (my hero husband) is like "HEY!  She wants kangaroo care!  She wants him on her chest immediately!"  I know what they're doing because the nurse had prepared me so I assure him that it's ok but I'm calling out "Is he ok?  Is he ok?"  They seem to have tunnel vision on checking his lungs and whatnot (if they inhale the meconium it can cause problems) and after the longest 30 seconds of my life, they bring him to me and assure me that he's ok.  They tell me that his apgar score was a 9 and he's absolutely perfect.  =)  The MINUTE they put him on my chest, Jackson immediately and instinctively started to move his mouth toward my nipple and latched on right away.  He was very alert and just stared at me like he knew who I was.  All of the pain and stress of the labor was IMMEDIATELY gone the moment I saw him.  After wondering for 9 months why anyone would ever get pregnant twice, I quickly thought "I'd do that again!" when I held him.  After I kept him on my chest for two hours, I finally let others hold him.  Chris was first and he took off his shirt so they could have skin to skin. =) 

During this time, the doctors were stitching me up because I tore in two places.  The doctor asked if I minded if the resident helped her and I was so enamored with Jack Jack that she could have invited the janitor in to throw a stitch and I wouldn't have cared.   

Believe it or not, I wouldn't change a single thing about my labor or delivery.

26+ hours of labor from start to finish and it was totally worth it. =)  

Postpartum recovery and early breastfeeding were hell though...lol