Wednesday, August 7, 2013

A Little Birth Story

Want to hear a birth story? I've been meaning to tell it for a while, and I finally got around to it today...

My contractions started around 1 a.m. on Saturday, June 22. They were really pretty chill for a long time, and I was able to just relax and breathe through them. I was feeling pretty excited about the whole process since I was just letting it happen naturally (last time I took meds to "ripen my cervix" - ew). And once my cervix was ripe last time, I went from no contractions to non-stop awful contractions and then Milo just kind of tore out with his big round head... But I digress...

My mom came over around 6 a.m. to stay with Milo, but I wasn't ready to go to the hospital. So we just hung out and chatted, walked around the neighborhood, etc. I think we headed to the hospital around 10 a.m. when my contractions were about 5 minutes apart. By the time we were all checked in and everything, they checked me and I was at a 3. The doctor broke my water, and I went to a 5 within an hour. Contractions were still completely manageable, and I was thinking the whole thing was going to be comfortable and delightful.

And then I got stuck at a 6. For literally 4 hours. The weird thing was that my contractions kind of leveled out, and I ended up napping for a while (which was great, considering I hadn't slept at all the night before). Nate said he was watching them on the monitor and they would peak and then immediately come back down. It was weird and awesome... Until I was still at a 6 four hours later and the contractions started really picking up. And Lucy was staying put (although, funny thing, I could always tell when a contraction was coming because Lucy would start moving around and throwing elbows and whatnot like she was really irritated). After hours, I was finally at a 7, but I didn't think I was going to make it. My nurse was amazing, though. She kept telling me that I was the most calm person she had ever seen, and that if anyone could do it without drugs it was I. I felt so encouraged all the time. Until the last time she checked and I was still at a 7.

I seriously started praying, "Well, Lord. I might die before I have this baby. I do not think I can do this anymore. PLEASE help me." And that's when I felt like I had been pushed out of the bed and made a beeline for the bathroom. Now, up until this point, I hadn't been able to get up and around because my contractions weren't breaking at all. I literally couldn't make myself get up. Well, by the time I crossed the few feet to the bathroom (with poor Nate trying to untangle me from all the monitors and cords and whatnot), I told Nate, "Well, I either have to poo or I have to push. I don't know which one!" (Not sure if I told you, but because I had an epidural for about 20 minutes of bliss with Milo, I never knew what it felt like to "have the urge to push." I remember the doctor asked me, "Do you feel the urge to push?" and I said, "Well I don't know. Should I?" To which he replied, "Turn that epidural off!")

Well, bless Nate's heart, we went to a new level in our marriage, because when I told him I had to poo or push he said, "Okay, I'll check!" lol. He poked his head back there as I sat on the toilet, and told me, "It's not poop. GET BACK IN THAT BED!" He hustled me on over, ran to get the nurse, and the two of them came back. Sure enough, I had gone from stuck at a 7 to a 10 in the 30 seconds it took me to get out of bed and to the bathroom. It was time!

Then they had to call the doctor... And I had to wait for him to get up there... And boy did I feel the urge to push, and the nurses kept saying, "Absolutely NOT. Do not push! Pant through it!" EXCUSE ME???? As soon as my doctor walked in the room I was ready, and Lucy came with just 2 pushes (and actually, she probably would have come out with just 1, but the doctor made me stop so he could reposition her). And then I literally said, like a big fat trucker, "Ohhhhhh, that felt so good!" So embarrassing, but I'm just reporting the facts here.

So, beautiful Lucy Jane was born at 5:35 p.m. that Saturday, looking so much like Milo, and I prayed, "Please, dear Lord, let me never have to do that again." But I survived! And here are a few of her newborn photos to prove it.

Oh, this girl loves her Daddy.

Milo and Lucy already love each other. He looks out for her, and she turns her head whenever she hears his voice.

The happy family of four


  1. Love it! Made me smile :) And all the pictures are so beautiful!!

  2. The photo of the three of you seriously just made me cry. Congratulations again!

  3. Love it! You make gorgeous babies! :)