365 Days Later, The Birth Story

DISCLAIMER: Birthy birthy birthyness to follow. If the terms "bloody show", "cervical dilation", or "nipple stimulation" bother you, I would recommend closing your browser. Men, this means you.

After my weekly appointment where I had my membranes stripped for the second time, I was prepared to feel emotional and crampy like I had the week before, the first time my membranes were (more lightly) stripped. But I didn’t feel crampy immediately afterwards like before. I took BB to the park and to a play date with E.  My due date was just four days away, and with my Gestational Diabetes diagnosis the doctors had mentioned inducing me if I hadn’t had the baby by my due date – in fact, since I was already dilated 3-4 cm and 60% effaced and my cervix was soft (although still posterior), at my appointment Dr. Hudson had even said “We can certainly induce you anytime you want.” But I didn’t want.  I was prepared to argue against getting induced before 41 weeks if my due date came and went, but I really didn’t want to have to fight that fight, so that afternoon I decided to try some other more natural inducement methods, especially after a couple of stronger-than-I’ve-had-so-far contractions starting around noon, and some bloody show. 

While BB played in his room instead of napping, I googled the proper technique for nipple stimulation, which is supposed to release oxytocin (the hormone responsible for contractions). I also googled castor oil and thought about taking it, but the GI side effects were extremely undesirable, and I decided to pass on the chance of it launching me into labor since it came with a side of violent diarrhea. I was going to attempt giving birth without pain medicine, and I was not interested in simultaneously dealing with the pain of contractions and explosive diarrhea, thankyouverymuch. Lo and behold, the nipple stimulation technique was fairly effective, as I started having mildly uncomfortable contractions about every 10 minutes for an hour. Then the contractions dissipated in frequency, and then with more nipple stimulation, the frequency would increase again. I texted J that I had been having contractions and I just wanted him to have a heads up, no need to rush home or anything. We talked on the phone and I described how my contractions were getting more uncomfortable. We were both feeling nervous and excited and wondered how soon J would be leaving work. After a couple hours, I stopped doing the nipple stimulation, figuring that I had done enough to stimulate labor and I would see what my body did on its own. The contractions continued irregularly throughout the afternoon, and J came home early around 5. We decided to go walking around some stores (since it was too hot to walk outside). We stopped by to drop something off at Steve and Han’s and ended up visiting for a while, and then went to grab a quick dinner out so we could still squeeze in a “walk” around TJ Maxx before BB’s bedtime. But the shoppingd ended up not really being a walk and my contractions had pretty much gone away. I was disappointed, and once we were all tucked into bed, J and I decided to try some “other” measures to help things along.

At 3 am I woke up suddenly with a surge of heartburn, and then I felt a small gush of warm fluid - I leaped out of bed in case my water was breaking, very concerned with not soaking my mattress. I went to the bathroom and after a moment of waiting, my water broke in one big gush. It was different than when my water broke with BB, which happened in several gushes stimulated by activity – this was a bunch of fluid all at once, one big splash. In a hushed voice I called out to J, who was sound asleep in our bed, “J, my water just broke.”

Because it is a fairly uncommon way for labor to start, I really hadn’t expected my water to break again this time. I thought I was going to experience the increasing contractions, timing them (J finally getting to use the I-Touch app that he had downloaded two years ago for BB’s birth and was so excited to try), and trying to decide when we should go to the hospital, the delicate balance between laboring in the comfort of my home as long as possible but not giving birth in the bathtub because we waited too long. (In fact, in the last couple of months I had read not one but TWO (count ‘em TWO) accounts of college acquaintances who had their second babies at home because they waited too long to get to the hospital. These aren’t rumors of stories, these are real women that I actually know who wrote out their first-hand accounts of delivering their babies at home unintentionally - one, on the bathroom floor and the other, in the backseat of the car in their driveway. J was terrified of these stories – I thought they were fascinating and kind of awesome, since I was hoping to have a natural labor anyway.)  But anyway, I figured there was low probability for my water to break again, and that made my impending labor a big unknown, despite the fact that I had done it once already. I was planning to stay home as long as possible, even if my water broke. But at 3 am we were excited and anxious and since I had been having contractions throughout the day I hopefully thought “What if I’m already dilated to like 7?”  With BB I hadn’t had any contractions before my water broke and I never had any painful contractions until they broke my forebag, so I thought maybe those afternoon and evening contractions could have been doing the job even though they were only mildly uncomfortable. 

With all of that in mind, and just due to the general excitement, we didn’t even think about staying home and I called my wonderful friend and doula Tricia and told her my water just broke and she said she would meet us at the hospital. And then it was a flurry of activity and to-dos – adding things to the hospital bag, calling J’s parents to come watch BB, realizing that since it’s 3 am they would be taking BB back to their house and I needed to pack a bag for him too which I hadn’t thought about at all before that moment, calling my mom who was coming to town to take over with BB, calling J’s sister. My mom and J’s sister didn’t answer right away so we kept redialing until we decided we would get to the hospital and call again once we had more info.  When J’s parents got there I was still packing for BB. Once he was all packed up and we were ready to go, I got really sad about leaving him. I knew I would see him again soon, but I also knew that our life would never be the same again. I suddenly felt like I was leaving my entire known wonderful life behind.  The last month of being off work and being home with BB every day, just me and him, had strengthened our bond, and I was sad that I didn’t know what might change between us now that our entire family dynamic was about to be forever altered. Of course in hindsight, I know that we only gave BB (and our whole family) a wonderful gift - a little brother, someone to play with, grow with, a potential lifetime best friend; but in that pregnant-labor-hormone-charged moment, a wistful sadness swept over me and I teared up as I said goodbye to my sleepy-eyed toddler.

But then J and I were driving to the hospital and the excitement took over again, as well as anxiety that poor Tricia had probably ended up beating us to the hospital with all of the waiting and packing. Sure enough, there she was waiting outside the building when we pulled up. We registered and then were taken to triage, where my neighbor Catherine, a Labor & Delivery nurse, was waiting for us. I had texted her that we were on our way, and it was fun to see a familiar face. At this point I had had a few more gushes of fluid, and by the time I was changed into a gown (with my black maternity tank top underneath – I was determined not to labor in those giant hospital gowns this time around, they look horrible in photos and just aren’t comfortable) and sitting on the table, I could feel that I had leaked quite a bit. So I laughed when the nurse told me that if my amniotic fluid wasn’t visible, they may have to do this and that – I assured her that there was a giant puddle underneath me and it wouldn’t be an issue, but of course she gave me a knowing “everyone thinks that” look. But sure enough, when she pulled up my gown she quickly realized that yup, my water was absolutely broken. They monitored me for a few minutes and checked me – I waited for her to tell me that I was already at 7 cm, but instead she said that I was 3-4 cm, 70% effaced. Whaaaaaaaat? That’s practically what I was this afternoon at my appointment, only 60% effaced! All those contractions for nothing today? went through my mind. But of course, once your water’s broken, you aren’t going anywhere since baby needs to be born within 24 hours to avoid infection (and with BB my placenta actually did get infected), so I got transferred to my Labor room. This was about when I remembered that I had wanted to stay home as long as possible. Whoops.

I decided to let them place an IV, since they wanted to draw labs anyway, but I requested that I not get IV fluids and that I have intermittent monitoring. After my neighbor Catherine and another nurse tag-teamed admitting me, J got our bags out of the car and I gave our nurses copies of my birth plan, which outlined my desire for a natural labor, fairly free from medical intervention. It only had some minor tweaks from BB’s birth plan. Because I didn’t want IV fluids, I was once again able to drink juice and have popsicles, and J, Tricia and I started walking the hallways, trying to jumpstart things since I was only having irregular contractions that were only a little crampy-feeling. By 6:30 am the nurse had already brought up that the doctor might want to start Pitocin, a medication to stimulate labor, but that makes contractions multiple times stronger than they are naturally and that increases the risk of emergency C-section. We couldn’t believe that it was only a few hours into my labor and they were already bringing up Pitocin. When the nurse left the room, I looked at Tricia and we started talking about what was next and made a plan with some questions to ask. The nurses changed shifts at 7, and my new nurse was Deb, recommended for me by Catherine since she is great with natural labors. She told me that she had had four natural deliveries of her own, which I was excited to hear. We asked if we could talk to our doctor about the Pitocin, or at least hear what her plan was, what kind of timeline she was looking at and if she would give my body some time to stimulate labor on its own without the Pitocin. I was glad to hear that the doctor on call was Dr. Hudson, who I had seen the last few weeks of my pregnancy and who seemed more supportive of my desire for a natural labor than some of the other doctors I had seen in the office.  

And sure enough, Deb came back in the room after speaking with Dr. Hudson and said that Dr. Hudson would wait until noon, giving me time to walk walk walk (and do some more nipple stimulation) to try to get things going. Deb said that Dr. Hudson didn’t think the nipple stimulation was very effective, but I had seen it have some effect yesterday afternoon, so I wanted to try to do that during the times they wanted me on the monitor and I couldn’t be walking. Dr. Hudson also said that I could eat breakfast - I was thrilled with this news! (I knew I would need strength to get through this labor and I had a few secret granola bars in my bag.) They brought me a breakfast tray and it did not appear to be diabetic. I figured that if they hadn’t said anything about the gestational diabetes, I certainly wasn’t going to, and I enjoyed my carb fest of French 

toast and fruit and oatmeal. 

Early on, during my intermittent montioring

We were really encouraged that Dr. Hudson was waiting until noon, as we knew not all doctors would have been so willing to do that and we would’ve had to fight harder to avoid the cascade of interventions. So we were in high spirits walking through the halls – I even tried doing some lunges and things, joking around. Tricia had a class that morning and since nothing was really going on yet I encouraged her to go ahead and go to the class and that I would let her know if anything changed, so she left. Around 11 my mom got to town (we had gotten hold of her around 5:30 when I was still in triage) and came to the hospital. BB was napping at J’s parent’s house so there was no rush for her to head home so we visited and I sent J home to shower and eat something. Sometime while my mom got there, Tricia came back from her class, so we all went for a walk together through the halls. I remember that all of the sudden I started feeling overwhelmed. Even though I wasn’t having consistent or painful contractions (they were mildly uncomfortable but I could walk and talk through them), I realized that having more than one person there (other than J) was too mentally draining for me. Tricia went to find some lunch and once J was back, we decided my mom should head to the house to settle in before J’s mom dropped off BB and she was on full-time-BB-duty.  This gave J and I some alone time and I instantly felt more calm. Noon had come and gone and Deb had told us that Dr. Hudson was in an emergency C-section, and then another. By this time Tricia was back from lunch and Deb decided to check me to see if all of our walking had caused any dilation – when she checked me I think I was at 4, maybe 4 ½ cm. Essentially, I hadn’t progressed at all. I knew that this meant I was most likely going to need Pitocin, and I was very discouraged. Dr. Hudson came in and confirmed that yes, it was probably time to start Pitocin. I knew that she was right since it was 2 pm and my water had broken 11 hours before, but I was so disappointed. Dr. Hudson and Deb both told me that I would probably only need a little bit of Pitocin to jump start things. I tried not to be discouraged and to tell myself that however God wanted to get this baby out was fine, we just want a healthy baby, but I just felt like it was exactly what happened with BB and all of my hopes for a different, natural labor with SS were disappearing. 

Tricia immediately picked up on my discouragement and began telling me how because my body had already started dilating and my cervix was soft that my cervix was favorable to dilation and I may only need a little bit of Pitocin, unlike with BB when they cranked me way above max dose and it wasn’t effective until they broke my forebag. When I said that I felt like it was going the same as it was with BB, she reminded me that I had had contractions the day before and that was different than with BB. And then Tricia said, “Just because you are getting Pitocin, it does not mean you have to get an epidural.” And the truth of that statement really clicked for me. That statement helped me realize that it does not have to be the same. I do not regret my epidural with BB at all, and I really do feel like it was the right choice for me, but I had been very hopeful that this labor would be faster and my body would remember what it was supposed to do and would just require less medical intervention. I was very nervous to have another fourth-degree tear, even though the last few weeks several different doctors had told me they rarely or never have seen two fourth-degree tears in a row, but I had read in the Bradley book that when you are pain-medication-free you are better able to push instinctually and to control your pushing and have a less likelihood of tearing. That was one of my three big reasons for not getting an epidural that I had told J to repeat to me during labor when I was in the throes of labor pains and I wasn’t sure why I was doing this anymore. The other two reasons (not necessarily the top reasons, but the reasons I thought would most encourage me during labor) were that I wanted to be able to move around during labor and that I wanted to be able to get up and take a shower afterwards, like my sister had been able to do after her second birth. That sounded so refreshing to me.

So my nurse Deb came and started the Pitocin drip – she assured me that she was starting it at a very low dose and was going to adjust it very slowly and that she was sure I would only need a little bit to jump start my body.  Tricia went home, so I decided to get into bed and try to rest before things kicked into high gear. After a while, I got up and got into the chair though, I just couldn’t relax. I would have a few bigger contractions, and then they would die back down. Once again, I began thinking that this was just like my labor with BB, the Pitocin wasn’t working, and I started to feel discouraged. My nurse Deb came in and increased the Pitocin and said “I want to get this baby out before I leave tonight” and I remember thinking “Um, it’s 4:00 pm and you leave at 7 pm, there is absolutely no chance of that happening.”  I was discouraged and in my frustration I put my underwear and velour pants back on, convinced that it was pointless to be undressed when clearly I wouldn’t be giving birth for another month or so.

Deb came in another time to increase the Pitocin slightly. I remember I saw her notice I was wearing my pants and I offered a testy explanation about it, and her expression just said “Okaaaaaay.” Shortly after that increase in Pitocin I suddenly had a few stronger contractions. I think I was sitting on the birthing ball, brooding that I wasn’t progressing. It was 4:30 pm. I felt a strong urge to go to the bathroom and walked over, having to stop during a contraction. I sat down to go to the bathroom, and the contractions started coming every minute or so – each time I would get myself cleaned up, I would have another contraction accompanied by a gush of amniotic fluid that I would then have to clean up, right before another contraction after which I had to repeat the whole process. I was stranded on the toilet and started to feel panicky. (I did not want to labor or give birth on the toilet, this wasn’t an episode of I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant). Finally I was able to stand up and walk out of the bathroom, but I don’t think I even made it to the chair. The contractions were consuming and frequent. I stood with J, arms around his neck, swaying through the pain of the contractions. My nurse Deb came in to check on us, and observed me during the contractions. It quickly became clear that labor was happening. J frantically texted Tricia to come back to the hospital. I remember trying to sit on the edge of the chair but quickly scooting to the edge of the chair trying to hang my pelvis off and then standing up, because sitting was excruciating and felt like I was squishing my belly. I swayed with J for a while – I think that’s what we were doing when Tricia got back.  At some point Deb and Tricia suggested changing positions, and I had a hot flash. Deb suggested I take off my pants and I remember desperately kicking them off, leaving them piled on the floor, so that I was only wearing my black tank top. The position they suggested was to have the hospital bed positioned with the head of bed up, and for me to face the head of the bed on my knees with my arms hanging over the top of the bed. This was how I labored for the majority of the time – it allowed me to be vertical without having to stand (which I didn’t feel controlled enough to do). Tricia and J and Deb were all amazing – they were so encouraging and met my needs as I labored. When I whimpered “I just want the pain to stop!” Tricia would remind me “It will stop once the baby is born”. That made me want to punch her in the face a little bit, but mostly it reminded me that this pain had a purpose and an endpoint – it brought me out of the moment and into the big picture for a second. Tricia had encouraged J and I to establish a password to indicate if I truly wanted an epidural, so that I could complain about the pain and even mention an epidural without sending J into a tailspin to rescue me with an epidural that I didn’t really want – the password was so helpful.

There were three things that carried me through my contractions. I meditated on a Bible verse that our friend and youth pastor had shared one Sunday morning just before SS was born, Ephesians 2:10, which says “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” I just kept repeating This is my good work, this is my good work which God prepared for me in advance over and over to myself.  And I moo’d. Yup, as in cow. Livestock. Udders. My dear friend had told me that in her Bradley classes they had been taught to “moo” through their contractions, and Tricia and I talked about it before I gave birth. Tricia told me that giving the pain a verbal manifestation allowed for some kind of therapeutic release, as well as relaxing the body and encouraging dilation rather than repressing the pain and tensing and as a result, inhibiting dilation. I remember when I was laboring with BB before I got an epidural I was just silent, just breathing, internalizing the pain, and the idea of that release and subsequent relaxation made a lot of sense to me. So I started making a low, guttural moan during each contraction when I first started swaying with J, and it really did decrease my pain experience during labor. And the third thing that got me through labor was recommended by my nurse Deb – before my contractions started I was sure to ask this 4-time-natural-delivery-veteran what got her through her labors, and she said that it sounded crazy, but she would rub her foot on the sheet of her bed and focus on that sensation, and it distracted her from the pain of the contractions. Because of my position, I scratched the pillowcase or sheet, and it really did detract from the discomfort.

After some time the contractions started to stack up on each other, and there was no break between the pain anymore – each contraction was riding the wake of the previous one and I felt weak and panicky and I started sobbing and whimpered “I can’t do this anymore!! I can’t do it!!” Tricia encouraged me by reminding me “You are doing it, right now,” but I now know what her and Deb were both thinking – Transition! Finally! Deb wanted to check my cervix, and I had to roll over onto my back – I was terrified, because I knew that this was the most painful position I could be in. She checked me, and I honestly don’t totally remember, I think I was 8 1/2 , 9 cm – as soon as I felt a contraction coming on, I panicked at the idea of the intensity of pain in this position and swung my legs over the edge of the bed and tried to stand up, telling J to help me. I thought J was helping me at the time, but later he told me that he put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me down back into bed as Deb said “You can’t get out of bed because you’re about to have this baby!”  That motion was all it took – after that, everything seemed like it happened at once. Deb checked me again, I was a 10, Dr. Hudson was there, my uterus started firing off rapid contractions that not only squeezed, but compressed my uterus and everything in my body told me to PUSH NOW!  “I’m pushing! I’m pushing!” I shouted, panicked, feeling totally out of control – I felt like a fish flopping around on a dock, and like my uterus was an automatic weapon firing at high speeds. “Try not to push, try not to push,” Tricia said, and then she told J to get in my face and breathe with me. I remember staring in his eyes as he watched me in pain, compassion and care and fear shining out at me. 

And then I heard the calmest voice carry through the chaos, saying “Okay K, you can push.” It was Dr. Hudson “WHAT?! I CAN PUSH?!?”  “Yes, you can push.” 

I started pushing around 6:15 pm. Those first pushes felt incredible – pushing was all my body wanted to do, and I no longer had to try to resist. I remember, sometime just before I started pushing, thinking I think I might actually deliver without pain medicine! I think this might really happen! Which, looking back, is hilarious, because at that point I was ABSOLUTELY delivering without pain medicine, I was about to push my baby out, this was a done deal. But it wasn’t until that moment that I truly realized that SS is almost born, this is nearly over, and I actually labored without pain medicine and am about to deliver my second baby boy.

After the first few instinctual pushes, pushing became much harder. I waited to push with my contractions, which had slowed done, giving me rests in between pushing. Deb and Dr. Hudson instructed me to curl up around my abdomen, which was so hard because, like when I was sitting in the chair, I felt like I was squishing my uterus (I mean, I guess that was the point), and I remember them telling me to “Push through the ring of fire!”. I had learned that expression about birth in nursing school, the “ring of fire”, but man alive, now I know what it means. It was so hard to push when pushing increased my pain, but I remember giving myself a little pep talk (much like I did when I was pushing with BB), telling myself Look, there’s no other way he’s going to come out. I know it hurts, but you HAVE to do this, it’s the only option. And then I buckled down and pushed, pushed, pushed. In the mirror watched him crown, appearing and retreating in the canal with the pressure of pushing, a circle of wet dark hair changing diameter. And then I closed my eyes and pushed with everything I had, and eventually his head came out. Dr. Hudson knew my history of a severe tear, and as soon as his head was out she began instructing me on my pushing, how much strength to use and different ways to position my legs – at one point I had to put my knees together over my belly and push, which was sooooo difficult. I found out later that one of Dr. Hudson’s nicknames is the Kama Sutra doctor, and I totally understand why! (She is also known as the Vagina Whisperer, if you were wondering.) Because of this, it took a few minutes for the rest of his body to come out.

And then at 6:27 pm my sweet boy was placed on my chest, with almost-black hair and blue eyes, and I cuddled him for the first time ever, with J leaning over my shoulder.

Once Dr. Hudson started stitching me up (only a second-degree tear!!!!!!!!!!!!!) my legs started shaking uncontrollably and I got nervous that I was shaking too much and would drop SS, so the nurses took him while J held my hand while I got stitched up.

J with his boy

7 lbs even. 19 ¾ inches long.

Everything about this post birth experience can be characterized by one word: peace.

Especially in comparison to BB’s difficulties breathing, chest x-ray, being told BB would need to be treated and monitored in the NICU, BB being taken away (J going with), taking forever to be stitched up, having my catheter left in because they didn’t want me getting out of bed that night due to the severity of my tear, fainting and vomiting in the NICU, not being able to breastfeed until the following morning, having to juggle monitoring equipment and IV lines to hold and feed BB, waiting for him to be discharged from the NICU, and then home – it was very stressful and a little scary the first couple of days. I’ve always meant to write about that, the post-birth birth story, Part 5: The Afterbirth.

But with SS, everything was peaceful. He stayed with me the whole time, cuddling and breastfeeding, and both grandmas came to meet him that night (BB stayed with Papa since it was past bedtime). SS slept with me, I woke him up to nurse him, and I was able to get up and go to the bathroom (although I saved the shower for the morning). 

First bath by our neighbor, who we got to have as our nurse that night!

Nacky and GG holding SS for the first time

My wonderful friend and doula wrote out my birth story from her perspective, and I wanted to include some excerpts here, as it is both informational and touching.

     “At 4:30 pm your dad texted me to say “the Pitocin is working…contractions are getting stronger.” I texted back and told him I was on my way, and for her to “moo through the contractions” (be sure and ask your mom about this!). I arrived at about 5 pm and your mom was having strong contractions about three minutes apart from each other. She couldn’t talk while she was having the contractions, only between them, which meant that you were close to being born! The nurse, Deb, your dad, and I were all trying different things to help your mom get through each contraction. We tried ice, pressure on her back, holding her, and breathing with her. She was very uncomfortable! I suggested trying a new position. We raised the head of the bed up, and your mom got on her knees with her arms and head resting over the top of the bed. She was moaning low during her contractions, I could tell they were very strong, but she looked so beautiful and peaceful, and was really in control. She was very direct about telling us what she liked and didn’t like us to do during her contractions. At about 5 pm her contractions were getting so strong that she said “I can’t do it anymore!”. When your dad and I told her what a great job she was doing, she said “It feels like you guys are just saying that!” but she really was. Deb had her turn on her back so she could check her, and your mom was almost fully dilated, it was almost time for your arrival! Your mom was really uncomfortable now, saying she didn’t think she could do it. All of the sudden your mom had a strong urge to push. I told your dad to get right in your mom’s face, breathe with her, and look her in the eyes so she could keep focused during this hard time. That really seemed to help.

    “The doctor came into the room and got all set up for you to be born. Your dad held one of your mom’s legs and I held the other while she pushed. She started pushing at about 6:15 pm and you were born at 6:27 pm. She pushed beautifully. I could tell that she was hurting, but she was so calm and focused. She wanted a mirror so she could see you head. It motivated her to keep pushing even though it hurt really badly. Your dad was reminding her that she was doing what God made her body to do, and it really seemed to encourage her. After you were born your mom was SO relieved! You let out some nice big cries to let everyone know you were here. The doctor wiped you off and put you on your mom’s chest so she could get a good look at you. The nurse took you to clean you up and count all your fingers and toes. I took a LOT of pictures during this time, I hope you get to see them! I asked the nurse if I could wrap you up so your dad could hold you. He talked to you very quietly and introduced himself, it was very sweet to see. Then, he brought you to your mom. She was overjoyed to talk with the little man who had been growing inside her for nine months. I could see the beginnings of a lifetime of love between you and your mom.

     “It was such an honor to be at your birth. Your mom only had a few hours of hard labor, and she brought you into this world as she wanted, experiencing all of the physical and emotional feelings that are so unique to birth without pain numbing medicine. You mom was absolutely stunningly beautiful during your birth. I saw generations of women who walked in her footsteps before her in her face. It was truly miraculous. You and your brother are lucky boys to call [K] and [J] your parents!”

I have wonderful memories of both of my experiences giving birth – I feel like I underwent and conquered a rite of passage of womanhood by delivering naturally other than a little Pitocin and without pain medicine, something I had always wanted to do. It was such an amazing experience – I cycled through it over and over again in my mind the first few hours after giving birth. Our bodies are so powerful and intricate. My neighbor Catherine was my nurse after SS was born, and she told me later that after SS’s birth Deb told her “Today is why I became a nurse.”  They also all remarked “I can’t believe you didn’t swear!” which I thought was hilarious. I do remember at one point sitting up and saying “This sucks,” and then immediately feeling guilty. I guess that was my version of peri-labor swearing.  

I’m so thankful for J, for Tricia, and for Deb – Team SS! 

They were such a knowledgeable and supportive team to labor with. 

Photos from the next day

BB and GG came the next day and BB met his brand new baby brother and SS gave BB a present. And then BB wanted to give SS kisses, without any suggesting from us.

First family photos

BB asked "I give SS a kiss?" 

"Sure honey, you can give SS a kiss on his head."

Kiss. 

"I give SS a kiss on the mouf?"

Sweet brother love. All totally on his own.

Going home from the hospital, teeny tiny in his car seat

I can’t believe it’s been a whole year since this birth story took place. 

Happy 1^st Birthday SS – I am so happy to be celebrating you.

The Birth Story, Part Four: the Born Ultimatum

Click here to read The Birth Story, Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3

I woke up to Wendy quietly entering the room. It was almost 6'clock at night, 24 hours since my water had broken, and about an hour until the nurse's change of shift. Wendy checked me and, suddenly slightly anxious, told me that I was fully dilated and ready to push. I couldn't believe that our plan actually worked - I actually got to sleep, thanks to the epidural, and my cervix continued dilating, and now I was actually going to push a baby out of my body.

And I was going to see and touch and hold my baby boy! I was amazed and excited and everything felt surreal.

Wendy said she would be right back and then we could start trying to push. Even though I wanted J to continue resting, I called his name, knowing that he couldn't miss this. Plus, what if I only had to push a few times?! He woke up and I knew he had the same surreal, hyperaware feelings that I did, and I could tell he was a little nervous. We both felt ALIVE.

I wanted to make sure we got both of our moms in the room so that they could watch BB be born. When I told Wendy that we needed to get our moms before I started pushing, she laughed, or maybe I could just tell that she wanted to, and told me that it would probably be a while. I secretly kept thinking that he might just come out in just a few pushes, so we better make sure the grandmas were available, and I think I sent J out to grab them before my "practice" pushes. I also kept reminding Wendy that I wanted a mirror positioned so that I could watch the birth until the mirror was in place. I did not want tomiss this!

Once Wendy had her supplies ready, with J by my side I tried pushing for the very first time, following some advice from a friend that "it is exactly like pushing out a bowel movement". I couldn't feel anything when I pushed, thanks to the epidural, and I couldn't sense when I was having a contraction, so I followed Wendy's instructions on when to push. After some practice pushes and my mom and J's mom were there, and I started the "real" pushing, with my mom holding my left leg, and J holding my right leg. So much for my "maybe it will just take a few pushes" idea. As I continued pushing, I was increasingly able to sense when I was having a contraction, although Wendy was still cueing me, and at some point Dr. D came and stayed too and would cue me to push.

After a while I would sometimes wait to start pushing even though I knew I was contracting before the monitors reflected it and they cued me - pushing was such hard work! I tried to really focus all of my energy only into the push, and not waste any energy tensing up my neck, shoulders, legs. Focusing on relaxing some parts of my body while pushing took every bit of my mental and physical strength, as my instincts were to just tense up my entire body. But I had read in my Bradley book that I needed to focus the energy so that it wasn't wasted. I experienced a similar state of consciousness when I was pushing to when I was laboring without the epidural - a chaotic feeling in my body and outside of it as it slaved to this work, but my mind fairly calm while focused and consumed only with the physical work, a strange paradox. I used these times to pray - no ornate words, just "Help me, God. Help me push him out. Help me do this." I couldn't think very far past the physical demands.

After an hour of pushing it was time for the nurses and doctors to change shift, and Wendy told me I could take a break, which I gratefully (indulgently) accepted. When they returned, the night nurse was Erin, my nurse from the second half of the previous night, and Dr. S, who I had never met. I remember Erin sarcastically saying to another nurse "Wendy told her..." about something I had stated to Erin - she was clearly annoyed with Wendy, and I immediately felt defensive of my quirky and nonjudgemental nurse Wendy and a stronger dislike of Erin. Praise God that for all of the bedside manner that Erin lacked, Dr. S. just emanated. She came in, several months pregnant herself, talked to me like a friend, and calmly coached me through the rest of my labor. Her coaching was friendly yet authoritative, and for me it was a magic combination and I was so encouraged.

So after the 20-25 minute break for the shift change I was back to pushing, now with my new BFF Dr. S. manning the helm (yeah, that's what we'll call that.). The next set of memories from this time are all just snippets:

At one point my mom had started setting down my left leg in between contractions, and I asked "Mom, are you getting tired?" and everyone laughed. Looking back, I understand the irony of my concern.

At some point, I spiked a temp. I remember someone saying "103 degrees". Antibiotics were administered through my IV. Worried glances were exchanged between my mom and J's mom. I observed these things but couldn't process them until later, as it was all peripheral noise to the cacophony playing full-blast in my mind and body.

I had been doing three big pushes with contractions and taking (brief) breaks between the contractions, and I started having heartburn on every third push, heartburn that worsened the harder I pushed, and it made me stop pushing too early and I knew I wasn't pushing as effectively because of it. I told Dr. S. and she deliberated a moment and then told the nurse to get me something. It came in a little cup, I smelled it, wrinkled my nose while looking at my mom who looked apprehensive, and swallowed it in one gulp. As I swallowed, my mom was already grabbing the bin, and I immediately wretched and vomited. I emptied my stomach, and I could taste the apple juice I was so happy I could have earlier as it came back up. BUT despite that not being the medication's intended effect, with my stomach emptied, the heartburn was gone and I was able to push strong through all three pushes again.

I remember feeling like my whole head was going to explode from the pressure of pushing - all of my straining felt concentrated in my face.

I have a fuzzy memory of the doctor telling me "We're only going to let you go for three hours" and acknowledging it - again, I observed this statement, but could not mentally process it's implications, didn't mentally process it until days after the birth when I realized that she meant that she was only going to let me push for three hours, and then she would take me for a C-section. Because we had been pushing for over 2 hours, and it had not once occurred to me during this process that I might not deliver vaginally.

And lo and behold, after all those hours of pushing and praying and straining and fevering and vomiting, Dr. S. finally saw BB's head, and my mom said "Oh, he has hair!" I opened my eyes and looked in the mirror and all of the sudden my energy was renewed. Oh yes, this is about a baby, MY baby, there is a REASON for all of this work, and it's that little head with wet dark hair that I can actually see.

All of the sudden the whole room changed - someone removed the foot of the bed and Erin jumped on the phone and said "I need Nursery, now." And I realized oh my gosh, it's TIME. They're getting Nursery because he's almost out! And I decided in that moment to forget all of the Bradley relaxation rules and to just push without thinking about any of that other stuff, to push like it's the push that would push him out, and that's what I told myself in private pep talks with the next pushes, "THIS IS IT - THIS IS THE PUSH!" With the first of these pushes J stumbled because my legs, which I'd tried to keep relaxed, tensed and shot out with no warning - he later said that I almost knocked him across the room! And Dr. S. said "Okay, whatever you just did, keep doing it! That's IT!" And after a few of these (and yes, everytime I told myself that THIS IS THE PUSH!), I opened my eyes just in time to see BB's head and body all come out in one big push. They quickly wiped him and handed him right to me. He let out one mewing cry and then in my arms he opened his dark grey eyes and blinked, silent, looking from side to side, my little observer, just as he still is. I was saying "Hi BB, Hi" and rubbing him, and Erin said "Did anyone tell you it's a boy?" Well, no, they didn't, but I had definitely already called him by his name and it hadn't even occured to me that it might not be!

After a minute they took BB to measure him and J and I looked at each other, smiled, and both welled up. I will never forget that moment or the amazement and joy I saw on J's face.

We had a son.

8:38 pm

7 pounds and 1 ounce

20 3/4 inches long

The Birth Story, Part 3: Labor of Love, or Getting Acquainted With Genesis 3:16

I felt my contractions quickly grow stronger. Everyone was gabbing with each other when I started to feel a crampy sensation in my lower abdomen. Surprised, I breathed slowly and deeply and tried to focus on relaxing my whole body like the Bradley book had said was so important. The sensation stopped and I glanced at my visitors who seemed oblivious to my sudden silence or the paradigm shift in my labor that had just occurred. A pain-ish sensation, finally, about 19 hours into my labor. A harbinger of what was to come, I realized. My hope for Wendy's miraculous painless labor was forgotten. And before I knew it, another crampy feeling was upon me, this one a little more consuming than the last. I took slow, deep breaths.

The contractions quickly escalated both in strength and frequency.

"Guys? I think I need a break," I managed between contractions. My visitors scattered.

Alone with J and our nurse, the next hours are piecey and blurred together in my memory.


Early on in labor (as I mostly labored on a birthing ball), trying to channel Dr. Bradley

A nurse rapidly turning the Pitocin down, down, down.

Sitting on the birthing ball at J's suggestion.

Breathing, breathing, breathing. Slow, deep breaths. In. Out. Iiiiin. Ouuuut. Over and Over.

The relief of a warm rice sock on my lower back.

The dread with the menstrual-cramping sensation that signaled the impending contraction, breathe breathe breathe, relax your body, relax your body.

Focusing on this one moment. Nothing else exists outside this one moment.

My servant husband holding pressure to my hips and pressing his thumbs in my lower back like we learned in our birthing class.

Wendy telling J "See how she's getting irritable? That's actually a good sign."

Nausea and dizziness.

Increasing intensity.

Wendy opening my birthing book, my focal point, asking where I bought it.

Seriously, you think I can answer you?

"Borders," I grunted. Speaking required too much focus and energy.

J suggesting a shower and feeling like if I stood up I would just fall right over from the light-headedness.

I can't possibly get up and move without fainting.

I am trapped on the birthing ball.

Contraction upon contraction upon contraction. Only moments between them.

I can't catch my breath. I can't breathe. I need to...breathe. breathe. breathe.

Rest.

I need to rest.

When will I rest because here's another contraction?

How can I be thinking these calm thoughts but be unable to speak, be so physically incapacitated?

Trapped in my mind.

I want to go somewhere away from here - but I can't escape because it's my body. I can't stop this. I can't rest.

Weak sobs.

"I can't do this."

How am I going to do this? I'm so tired. There's no rest.

Just focus on this one contraction.

But how many more contractions are there going to be?

How am I going to push if I'm this tired now?

"Wendy, I'm thinking about getting an epidural," I gasped.

"Well, what were your reasons for not wanting an epidural?"

"I don't want BB to come out all drugged."

"That's very unlikely to happen."

"I don't want it to slow down my labor."

"At this point it shouldn't slow down your labor. It may actually allow you to relax and finish dilating until you are ready to push."

"How far along do you think I am?"

"Would it make a difference?"

"Maybe."

"Let's check you."

Maybe. Maybe if I'm transitioning I can keep going. I just need rest. If rest is close, maybe.

I walked back to bed, contracting in the middle of the 3-step walk, amazed that I could move without keeling over.

6 1/2.

I sat cross-legged in bed.

It felt better.

Minutes later the contractions intensified again, and I was trapped in my mind again, thinking, thinking, breathing, breathing.

I just need to rest. I'm going to have to push this baby out and I need to rest.

Awake for so long.

I asked for my friend A, Mommy to Little C and future Doctor.

She appeared at the bedside. I grimaced through a contraction.

"When you got your epidural, could you sleep? Does it only take away the pain but you can still feel the pressure and you can't sleep? Or can you sleep?"

She said yes, she could sleep.

She told me to make whatever was the right decision for me, and later revealed how she just wanted to tell me to get the epidural, but she knew she shouldn't.

I looked at J and said "I think I'm going to get the epidural."

He looked nervous. I know he wanted to be supportive of my desire for a natural birth, and wasn't sure what he should say or do.

I told Wendy I had decided.

The anesthesiologist was there quickly. I curled up in a ball, trying not to move as I contracted in this awkward position. One other reason I didn't want an epidural was because I had fainted in nursing school watching an epidural. My best friend from nursing school - we met on the first day of orientation and instantly connected, and we carpooled, studied, and planned all of our clinicals to be together for all 2 1/2 years of our program - had told me in detail about how she had fainted watching an epidural being placed, and all the details about how they had actually finished inserting the epidural but when they were positioning it, pulling it in and out, she just got disgusted and then she passed out. Days later, I was in preop excited to head into the OR and watch a nephrectomy and the anesthesiologist came to place the epidural - I remember being surprised at how aggressively he injected the anesthetic and watching the epidural being inserted, but lo and behold, as he was pulling the tiny plastic tubing in and out of the patient's lower back, at the exact moment she had described, I knew I was about to faint, so I walked over the wall and lost consciousness as I slid to the ground. Since then, I have been squeamish about needles in the back. Lumbar puncture in the ER=Nursing student K lying on a stretcher in a cold sweat with low blood pressure while the walls and ceiling spun around me. Every nurse has her thing that she just can't do, and needles in the back is mine. So as much as I wanted to have a natural labor for BB's health and for my own empowerment and fulfillment of this aspect of womanhood, I also was just plain afraid of the actual procedure of getting the epidural. And I was afraid it wouldn't work, or that it would puncture some part of my spinal column and I would be paralyzed forever.

But turns out that when my entire abdomen is one round flexing muscle doing the most intense workout of it's entire life, needles in the back are totally my thing. With the intensity of the contraction, I was back inside my mind, trapped by the pain, and I barely felt a pinprick. The anesthesiologist said it would kick in quickly and he was true to his word. Within minutes, I was experiencing some relief, and shortly thereafter my entire thorax was numb.

The relief was incredible. I felt such gratitude for the anesthesiologist and his magical work. And I could still sense my legs! I could even move them a little if I really concentrated! No phantom limbs like I had feared!


Post-epidural

My mom and my sister appeared at my bedside, as my sister had arrived sometime since I had kicked everyone out. It was sweet and encouraging just to see them. I remember my sister looking at me and saying "Sunday's child, full of grace," with tears in her eyes. All I remember saying to them is "I'm so glad I got the epidural," in a sleep-deprived daze. And they laughed as I said it a few more times before they stepped back out and I got ready to take the nap I had been longing for.

I got comfortable in bed and J laid down on the recliner chair and we both fell asleep while my body continued laboring.

365 Days Later...The Birth Story, Part Two: Birth Plan to Plan B

Turned out, baby not so imminent.

We were taken to our Labor and Delivery room, and the nurses set to work starting an IV while I set to work casually mentioning that I, too, am a nurse (oh what kind, you ask? I work in the CVICU…..(pause for dramatic effect)) at every appropriate moment. Nurse Erin was helping my nurse by starting my IV and she missed the first try. “Figures I miss on you, the ICU nurse,” she mumbled, a half-annoyed, half-embarrassed. Word had spread about me already. Not necessarily a good sign that they were warning each other about me, but I felt like the nurses knowing that I was one of them would ensure me a little bit of special treatment, and I would take what I could get.

As they started to hook me up to some fluids, I handed over my birth plan, with the header:
“At this time I would like to have as natural of a birth as possible, free from medication and other medical intervention (i.e. catheterization, episiotomy, vacuum or forceps assisted birth, cesarean section, etc.) unless necessary for fetal or maternal distress. However I have never done this before and I may change my preferences during labor. The most important thing to me is that I give birth to a healthy baby – these are just preferences.”
The nurses agreed not to hook me up to the IV fluids and decided to monitor me at 20 minute intervals, and offered me water and juice. I was so relieved when I was offered juice – I had expected not to be allowed to have anything by mouth (the policy in case of a need for an emergency C-section) and when my blood sugar gets low I become a little edgy, to put it nicely, and, although I had never given birth before, I figured I probably get a little edgy when my entire body is working to expel another human being too, so it was best to have my blood glucose in optimal range. After my initial fetal monitoring period, J and I decided to walk the hallways, trying to help facilitate dilation of my cervix and also to run off some of the nervous energy. We explored the Women’s Center, pacing the hallways at 20 minute intervals – through the Labor and Delivery suites, into the waiting area, and onto the Postpartum unit, with the postpartum nurses encouraging us and giggling each time we yet again passed their nurses’ station, and we played the Sequence board game during the periods I had to sit still and be monitored. I slowly dilated. At 10:30 pm I was at 3 1/2 cm and we made a short video. Eventually I got tired of walking and decided to try to get some rest while I still could. J curled up on a pullout recliner across our large birthing suite. Each time they placed me on the fetal monitor and tocometer we could see that I was having contractions, but, though I could feel my uterus tighten up at times, I had yet to have a painful contraction.

The next time I was checked I was still at 4 cm – I hadn’t progressed any more since the last time I had been checked. My nurse said that Pitocin, a drug that increases contractions, might be a possibility if I didn’t progress at a faster rate. Because my water had broken, my amniotic sac was no longer an impenetrable fortress to protect BB from infection, and I remembered from nursing school that the goal is to deliver a baby within 24 hours from the rupture of membranes to prevent infection. I knew that if I had to go on Pitocin, aspects of my birthing plan would be out the window, as it can make contractions up to three times stronger than they are on own. Pitocin was a hardcore medical intervention, however recognizing the potential of infection with my water broken, I knew that Pitocin probably fell under the “unless necessary for fetal distress” clause of my birthing plan. Sometime around 2 am, my mom arrived after driving 5 hours through the night after a full day of work, bringing energy and excitement. We updated her, and after a while the burst of energy dissipated and I encouraged her to go sleep at our house (a 5 minute drive away) and come back in the morning, promising to call if anything changed. She asked if I was sure, and I told her that I was going to try to get some sleep, so she might as well too.

Once my mom left, I rested and slept fitfully in bed, feeling like I should be moving around to help my labor progress but also feeling tired and like this might be my best chance at sleep for, oh, 3 months or so.

Sometime in the next couple of hours, my nurse’s traded off - my nurse needed to be able to fully attend to a woman actually giving birth and so Erin took over. Bedside manner was not exactly Erin’s forte – she just wasn’t personable, and seemed nervous. The next time I was checked I still wasn’t having any painful contractions and had only dilated 1/2 cm more. The doctor had given orders to start Pitocin, and I obliged. Erin told me that I would have to stay on the monitors now that I was on Pitocin - no more wandering the halls. My biggest fear about labor was that I wouldn’t be able to walk – I felt like walking, activity, was what was going to get me through the pain of the contractions, and I wanted to be able to stand so that gravity was on me and BB’s side, not indifferent to us as it would be if we were lying in bed. This is how indigenous tribal women give birth in the middle of the jungle by themselves - surely there is something to it. Being strapped to the monitors was going to limit my movement. This is one of several reasons that I didn’t want to have an epidural – the thought of contracting while lying in bed with an epidural that may or may not be effective sounded awful, like being trapped – and what if I couldn’t feel my legs? I was terrified of the idea of not being able to sense my lower half at all, of being completely numb. Another reason I didn’t want an epidural.

The Pitocin was infusing and wasn’t having the intended effect – i.e. I remained comfortable with no painful contractions. Erin titrated the Pitocin up and up and eventually maxed it out, and ended up getting doctor’s orders to continue titrating it up past the max dose until effective. I again fitfully slept and rested, and eventually morning arrived. I was allowed to take myself off the monitors to use the restroom, and once they showed me how to arrange the monitors, I moved freely around the room - tired of the bed, Justin and I played some more Sequence while I sat in an armchair.

Around 6 am J’s sister Serene called J – she and J’s mom (BB’s Granacky) had coffee for J (and probably a snack – everyone snuck J snacks when he ran out to the waiting room, and I had told him when I was pregnant that I did not want to know about all the delicious treats he was enjoying while I was only allowed ice chips (and, as it turns out, juice). Apparently she had been up all night too excited to sleep, and they had been there for quite some time. They came back and visited with us, and our friend A showed up sometime in there too – she had driven down from Phoenix bright and early to be there with us.

At 7 am the nurses changed shift, and we got a new nurse, Wendy. Wendy was in her late 50s, and after introducing herself to me, she promptly came up and rubbed my belly and had her own little conversation with BB as though he was already out in the world and not still stuck in my belly, a reality-check that there was an actual person inside of me, soon to be distinct from me. I supplied another copy of my birth plan to Wendy and she read through it. Wendy was charismatic and confident and told us that she was probably the only real supporter of natural birthing that was working that day and that we were lucky she wound up being our nurse. She was quirky and opinionated and she privately told me that all of my visitors might be too distracting and be what was keeping my labor from progressing. She asked if I wanted her to ask them to leave, so I didn’t have to. I quickly told her that I wanted everyone here - I thought the distraction was probably helpful, allowing me to relax and let my body continue laboring, dilating, slow though it may be. But the next time she came in, shortly after the last visit, I felt pressured to try her suggestion, like if I didn’t at least try it I wasn’t being a good mama, so I told everyone I thought they should step out and see if it helped my progression of labor at all.

It didn’t. So I invited everyone back, I’m sure to Wendy’s disdain. But I had so many visitors and, being a social girl, I wanted and enjoyed the company. My mom was back, and told me my sister would be flying in from Washington state that afternoon. Other friends came to visit. Despite the Pitocin going up, up, up, I continued not to have any painful contractions, and at one point Wendy remarked “I have seen about 2 women have a painless labor before”. Sounds good to me!

The morning brought the doctor's back to the hospital, and mid-morning Dr. D came in to check me. I had seen a group of OB doctors, not one doctor, during my pregnancy, so I had only met Dr. D once or twice. She wanted to check me and when she did she quickly announced that I had a forebag. Someone had mentioned a forebag when I had first arrived to the hospital, but I had been checked a couple of times since then and the nurses hadn’t said anything about it. But Dr. D explained that while my water had broken, part of the amniotic sac was still intact, compressed by BB’s head, and that breaking the forebag is the next step in progressing my labor. My desire for an intervention-free labor had been dissipated by the knowledge that the clock was ticking – I knew that BB needed to be born within that 24 hour window and we were already two-thirds of the way into it - the Pitocin was step one and this sounded like it was step two. I agreed to have my water broken, feeling like I should just go with the flow and trust the medical team's plan, since my plan seemed like it was out the window. The doctor set up for the procedure. I felt a tuggy-pricky feeling when she hooked the forebag of my amniotic sac.

My mom and mother-in-law and Serene and A came back in and sat down once Dr. D was done. I felt my contractions quickly grow stronger. Everyone was gabbing with each other when I started to feel a crampy sensation in my lower abdomen. Surprised, I breathed slowly and deeply and tried to focus on relaxing my whole body like the Bradley book had said was so important. The sensation stopped and I glanced at my visitors who seemed oblivious to my sudden silence or the paradigm shift in my labor that had just occurred. A pain-ish sensation, finally, about 19 hours into my labor. A harbinger of what was to come, I realized. My hope for Wendy's miraculous painless labor was forgotten. And before I knew it, another crampy feeling was upon me, this one a little more consuming than the last. I took slow, deep breaths.

365 Days Later...The Birth Story, Part One: The Great Gush

Team P had left town after celebrating J's 30th birthday, and my nesting instincts were driving me to clean the house from top to bottom again. But I was tired. I was 39 weeks pregnant, for goodness sake! I was already dilated to 1 1/2, maybe 2 cm, and 75% effaced. My belly was bulbous and my legs and feet were swollen with what we in the nursing world term "pitting edema". 4+ pitting edema, in fact - which means that when you press your fingers into my shins or the top of my feet, deep indentations remain for some time, indentations wide and deep enough to store a peanut M&M or a gumdrop.

So instead of cleaning, J and I went in thebackyard and I started watering the grass. Then I decided to water J too - after some convincing, and a little whining and pitiful look-how-pregnant-i-am-ing I talked J into having a water fight with the hose, and into playing easy enough that I could participate given my delicate state. After the water fight, we went inside and I procrastinated by playing some Sequence and then taking a nap on the couch (I bent the no-sleeping-on-the-couch rule more than a few times when I was harboring a human being). Finally in the late afternoon I gave in and J and I started cleaning the house.

J was upstairs finishing up mopping and I was downstairs squatting next to the front door wiping the doorframe when all of sudden I felt a warm gush of fluid. I was wearing J's basketball shorts. I went in the bathroom to investigate the situation and I shouted upstairs "Ummm, I think my water just broke." I couldn't believe I was actually saying those words. I couldn't believe that this could be it. I actually might be going into labor - mysterious, scary, great-unknown labor. And then J and I were going to come home with our baby. That would stay here in our house! It was so much that I couldn't wrap my mind around it, hadn't been able to during most of the pregnancy, so once again I didn't bother trying, and instead I just forged ahead with the well-this-is-happening-so-I-will-take-it-as-it-comes plan. Upstairs I heard a racket as J's mop tumbled to the floor and he clumsily ran downstairs looking wild-eyed and panicky. He's usually so steady and unshakable, so his reaction was hilarious and kept me calm and collected as he flurried around me and the person-in-my-belly.

After further investigation of the Great Gush, I called the hospital and spoke with the triage nurse. It was exactly 6 pm when the gush had occured. The triage nurse politely told me oftentimes women late in pregnancy can't control their bladder and that most likely that's what this was - as a very small percentage of women's labor actually begins with their water breaking, I understood her gentle suggestion, but I politely told her "Well, I'm a nurse, and I know what pee smells like, and this doesn't smell like pee." The nurse said that I was welcome to come in and get checked but sounded doubtful that I would be staying - she still said to bring our bags just in case. I was somewhat confused about what to do by her reaction, but when she asked whether or not we were coming in, I said yes, I was going to get checked, but I was going to shower and eat dinner first.

I quickly showered, not washing my hair as it was clean and done and I had been long-concerned about having decent hair during this whole process. I was going to be photographed! Priorities, people. J packed our bags into the car, and I climbed in the front seat to go grab Subway for dinner, since Subway was just a few minutes from both our house and the hospital. As I did all of these things I thought I felt more of the gushing feeling, and when I climbed into the front seat of the car, another gush of great proportions occurred. I knew in that moment that my water really had broken and this was, in fact, happening. BB was on his way.

After a quick dinner, we arrived at the hospital at 7 pm, still munching on some chips. The nurses told me I was smart to eat before I came in. I was directed towards triage where they told me to change into a gown. Amniotic fluid was dripping down my legs and onto the floor as I changed into my gown in the bathroom, and I felt bad for making such a mess. I left the bathroom and walked over to the table, warning them of the gushy situation I had left behind. I climbed onto the table and the nurse swiped a litmus-like paper across my leg and announced with certainty, "oh yeah, this is amniotic fluid". THIS IS REALLY IT! She checked me, and I was dilated a little further along than I had been at my appointment earlier that week. With the official medical word, J went and called our family and close friends, and updated his Facebook status to "Water is broken. Baby is imminent."