Cooper James: the birth story

I was pretty vocal about the fact that I wanted to go into labor by myself if there was any way possible. With Rory I was induced several days overdue and had only progressed to a 2 so I was really trying to help my body along through exercise, stripping membranes, etc etc. Needless to say, nothing helped. I'm beginning to think that maybe it's not possible. I mean, my mom was induced at least a week overdue with all her children... so it's not out of my realm of possibilities.

Because I had a relatively smooth (and quick) induction with Rory, my OB office was willing to let me choose when I would like to schedule an induction starting as early as 39 weeks. Still, I wanted to give my body the full 40 weeks to do what it could before I made that call. At this point, I had also made a very careful and thought-through decision about wanting to do natural childbirth (no epidural) and I knew that decision was going to be much harder with piton contractions vs natural contractions. So we were in in for the 40 week long haul at minimum.

I scheduled induction for my due date for several reasons, but turns out God was in the details on that decision. We arrived at the hospital just after 6:15 on a Monday morning, neither of us having slept well the night before. After miscarrying last summer, I struggled with a good amount of anxiety this pregnancy and was anxious to have my baby boy in my arms and know he was ok. They had me set up in a room by 7 o'clock, but before the doctor would break my water, he wanted to finish a c-section so that he could be with me in the case of any mishaps.

So he broke my water around 8:45 and the contractions started coming here and there for a while. They checked me at 10am and I had progressed to a 4, which I was pleased with, but at the next 11am check I was still at a 4, which was disappointing. The 12 noon check was where things started getting wild. They measured me at a 5, but after they left the contractions started to come really strong and close together. At this point I told Jay "I'm not sure if I can do this" because if I continued at this pace I would be having stronger contractions than this for the next several hours- and they were already verging on unbearable.

By 12:30 I had to go to the bathroom for the umpteenth time. Jay came to help me out of bed and get my cords situated, but I didn't make it out of bed before another contraction hit. As soon as the wave of pain was over, I got up and didn't quite make it to the bathroom before another came and I had to hunch over and grab the counter for support. That bathroom break I had the urge to push, which came as a complete shock to me. I thought maybe it was a fluke (I had an epidural from 7.5 on with Rory so the urge to push was faint at best) and got back to bed. The next contraction came on strong and the same urge to push came back, but undeniable now. I told Jay to call the nurses and they came rushing. By this time it was around 12:40 and the contractions were brutal and so close together I could hardly relax between. They measured me at a 7, and said they guessed the baby would be here in the next thirty minutes. The doctor was called, came quickly, and by 1 o'clock I was pushing.

After his head was delivered several things happened. First, the doctor told me to stop pushing for a minute and try to rest my body between my contractions. Second, he commented that "this is a big baby!" and asked the nurses if I had gestational diabetes, to which they responded no. (Gestational diabetes increases the likelihood of having a bigger baby)

Next I was told to pull my legs toward me as I pushed and a nurse and Jay stood on each side to help push them back with me. After maybe two pushes this way they laid my perfect, healthy baby boy on my chest, which will always and forever be my favorite part. It's a moment I dream about the whole pregnancy. Being relieved of the pain of labor, released from the discomfort of pregnancy, and having that baby placed on your chest. The nurses placing a warm blanket over the two of you. Nothing matters in that moment.

Turns out his shoulders had been stuck (thus, the pushing of my knees) and the doctor was shocked I was able to deliver Rory 5 days late without complications. He suggested I be induced at 39 weeks with all my subsequent children to prevent a much worse outcome. I now strongly feel that my long, skinny firstborn was a blessing in disguise as was my decision to be induced on my due date and no later.

Cooper came in weighing just under 8 pounds, but was only 19 inches, which made him almost two inches shorter than Rory. Stocky little guy!

The doctor had given me a second degree episiotomy, but I tore past it during labor. He called it "a really bad two" with the caveat that they "don't prefer calling it a three", but the nurses all just called it a 3. As he stitched me up, he mentioned that I was losing a lot of blood and gave me some (super fun) cytotec to help stop the bleeding. At the next check (you know, the fun one where they push really hard on your newly very squishy and tender stomach..) I was still losing too much blood and they administered another dose of cytotec and a shot in my leg as a last resort to stop the bleeding. They told me not to eat and warned me that if it didn't stop they would have to take me back for some more invasive probing of/surgery on my nether regions. None of this sounded ideal to me. They weren't sure what was happening, because my placenta was delivered whole and my uterus seemed to be firm.. so they were guessing that it may be a tear which I guess can happen when labor goes so quickly.

Regardless, after a few checks the bleeding slowed and they continued to give me the stomach press every fifteen minutes for the next two hours to monitor me before I went to recovery. The doctor also ordered that I receive three extra bags of pitocin to help me contract and make sure the bleeding stayed under control. (pleasant, to be sure)

Neither of my birth stories were completely without a measure of trauma, but I just feel so grateful to have been a part of bringing these two beautiful healthy babies into the world. So so grateful for them and that handsome guy by my side who supports and stands by me at all times, but especially in times like these.

Rory Ann: The birth story

I had most of this post sitting in draft form and today I came across my hospital pictures and couldn't remember why I never posted it. Regardless, there is so much about Rory's birth I want to remember and I enjoyed reading about other people's experiences before I went through it, so here it is. 

I was overdue, (as you all knew) and dying to meet my sweet girl.
Then I went to the doctor's office on Monday to get a check up.
The office ladies were rooting for me hoping my labor had progressed substantially. [I was huge...]
It had- but not substantially, and I was dilated to a 3 and 80% effaced.
I hadn't really made up my mind on the whole induction option yet.
My mom was induced with all four babies because she just didn't go into labor on her own,
but then there's people that hate pitocin, and others that had dying placentas because they were overdue. I felt comfortable with the idea of being induced, but part of me wanted that experience of going into labor on my own (for no other reason than I wanted it).
So when my doctor offered, I asked his opinion. I love and totally trusted my OB, he was this sweet old man that had been delivering babies for years and this was actually his last year practicing.
So I asked. He was totally polite and didn't push me either way, but did say he really prefers not to let women go more than a week overdue because of the complications that can come after that point.
I told him I thought that would be just fine if he thought my body was ready for it. He assured me I was a prime candidate for an smooth induction and had his sweet nurse call the hospital to see what they had available.

So six in the morning two days later it was. It was not exactly the way I had it pictured. I was totally calm, and walked into the hospital with my hair and makeup on, in no pain, to tell the lady at the  desk I was there to have a baby. They got me set up in the labor/delivery room and after a couple of hours they started me on pitocin. My labor didn't progress much those first two hours or so, but then my doctor came in and broke my water.

I think because I had only progressed like a half centimeter the first two hours before my doctor broke my water, they assumed I wouldn't progress much and didn't check me for a while. Contractions were getting really intense and the nurse asked if I was ready for an epidural [I initially wasn't sure if I wanted one because i wasn't sure how the process would be for me]. I asked her how much longer she guessed I would be in labor. Because if this was going to go on for 5 more hours... then yes please give me some meds, but if I only had an hour left I felt like I could do it on my own. She kind of chuckled and said this was my first baby and it would likely be several more hours, so I had her order the epidural. By the time the anesthesiologist got there, I was a 7.5 and the nurse was shocked and began to refer to my labor as "fast and furious" as well as compliment me on my pain tolerance [she had no idea I was that far along].  I loved the little doctor who gave me my epidural, and it was actually totally fine for me. From that point on, I felt no pain until the end when Rory was about to make her debut.

At one point, Rory's heart rate started to drop more than they liked between contractions. They took me off the pitocin drip and gave me an amnioinfusion which is basically where they pump water back in with Rory due to relieve cord compression. I had never heard of this before, and obviously asked what was going on. The nurse explained that often the baby will press up against the umbilical cord [or grab it with their tiny hands] and cut off their supply, which puts them under stress. So basically they pump water back in to allow them to move around a little and hopefully release the pressure on the cord. The procedure works often, but she explained that if not they may have to take Rory by C-section. I was understandably a little nervous, but everything worked out really well in our case. Rory released the pressure, her heart rate stabilized, and labor continued.

My labor stalled for about an hour at a 9, but after some exercises and waiting, Rory was born at 5:30pm.  She was born screaming and feisty, as I have a feeling she will always be. And the nurses shouted, "that is not a small baby!" as they whisked her away to the scale.

We are sure glad she came, and that she's here, and for a smooth and [relatively] quick induction and birth. Birth is no joke [nor is recovery for that matter] but it's a worthwhile price to pay and I already have forgotten most of the pain and discomfort associated. Cheers to the pioneers who did this with nothing. Grateful we live in a day and age where amnioinfusion and induction are even possibilities to help us have healthy babies when things don't go as planned.