Judah's Birth Story

I'm not planning to make a permanent return to blogging, but I thought this was the best platform to share my latest birth story.  If you follow my blog's page on Facebook, you know I gave birth to my seventh baby in August.  

This pregnancy was my hardest pregnancy.  I would have assumed it was because I'm an "older" mom, thirty-eight when I gave birth, but my sixth child, Macie, was born when I was thirty-five and it was  by far my easiest pregnancy so that theory doesn't hold up.  With this pregnancy, I was sick for weeks and weeks-- throwing up until 16-17 weeks, nauseous daily until 20 weeks, and nauseous several days a week until the third trimester.  I had back pain beginning at 15 weeks which became nerve pain between 6 and 7 months and then returned to normal heavy, aching back pain for the end of the pregnancy.  While during my pregnancy with Macie I ran 3-4 miles regularly until the day my water broke, with this pregnancy, even walking hurt.  (I walked 5-6 days a week anyway but kept a slow pace.)

Otherwise, I was extremely healthy.  My iron was good, my blood pressure normal, my blood sugar almost perfect.  The biggest worry was that the baby stayed breech longer than expected.  At my 22- week, 28-week and then at my 32-week appointment, he was not head down.  (For what it's worth, he was head down at 30 weeks.)  I began doing Spinning Babies exercises at home to convince him to get into an ideal position. I cried and prayed and eventually felt peace that God was in control whether he needed to be born naturally or by C-section. I didn't realize how nervous I was though, until at 35 weeks, I found out he had flipped and felt a lightness come over my whole body! (For the remainder of the pregnancy, I kept open the possibility that he could flip back up!)

Three of my older kids were born in the 37th week, one in the 38th week, one right on time, and one at 41 weeks.  Odds were in my favor that this baby would be born early.  On the day I turned 37 weeks, we came home from church and had a celebratory dinner!  Then the waiting began.  Thirty-eight weeks came and went, and then I reached 39 weeks.  I was miserable and impatient!  Each morning, I woke up a little angry that I was still pregnant.  I even convinced myself I was going to make it all the way to 42 weeks without birthing my baby.  My body developed a pattern where I would have contractions for an hour or two in the evening before bed-- just long enough to make me wonder if labor was beginning-- and then disappear until the following evening.

I prayed throughout this pregnancy that the labor would go quickly.  My other labors ranged from 9 hours (3rd baby) to 25 hours (6th baby), and I really wanted things to be faster this time. Brian added the request that it not be so fast that we didn't make it to the hospital!  At church Bible study one evening a friend was sharing the story of when her son was born.  She said, "Don't be afraid to ask God for what you want...but don't be surprised if he gives it to you!" 

On the morning of August 22 (at 39 weeks, 3 days), I woke up at 4 am with a mildly painful contraction.  I continued having contractions every ten minutes until Brian woke up for work at 5:30.  I would drift off to sleep and then wake each time another would begin.  I was almost certain I was in labor, but this seemed to be following the slow pattern of my previous labors so Brian went off to work and I got up for my daily walk.  I walked about two miles and had regular contractions 5 minutes apart.  I texted my mom to alert her that she may need to come get the kids later.  I also texted a friend the news.  

The kids and I ate breakfast and had a "normal" morning.  Contractions slowed to one every 12 minutes or so.  Any time I stood up or walked around the house or did a few Spinning Babies exercises, I would have a contraction, but I felt like I was having to coax them along.  My mom asked if it would help to come get the kids.  I thought maybe being on my own in the house would be helpful so I could avoid the feeling of being watched, but I was also afraid that everyone would leave and I would labor on for several more days.  We decided to take our chances and by 11 am, they said good-bye and I was alone.  

Almost instantly, as soon as they walked out the door, I went into true labor.  The contractions increased in frequency and intensity.  I finished packing my hospital bag between contractions.  Another friend texted to see if I was headed to the hospital, but I told her I planned to stay home and labor as long as I could. I was hungry so I fixed myself lunch and ate while watching a show. The contractions were intense and painful.  I paused between bites to breathe.  I paused the TV show when I couldn't concentrate.  I wondered how far I was progressing, but I wasn't quite ready to call Brian home.  I went to put my plate in the sink and had a contraction that startled me with its intensity.  I texted Brian and told him to begin thinking about coming home.  He replied that he had been thinking about it all day and just to say the word.  With the next contraction, I told him I needed him now.

Brian works about 35-40 minutes from home so I continued watching TV and laboring on my own.  When he walked in the door, he quickly changed his clothes and gathered a few things for the hospital.  I told him there was no hurry and I wanted to stay home as long as I could, but I could barely tell him this because the contractions kept coming.  I stood up to walk to the kitchen (only a few feet away) and had to stop several times before getting there.  Brian said it was time to go!

I was afraid to get in the car because with every previous labor, contractions stalled during the drive and labor stopped until we settled at the hospital.  That was not the case this time.  I continued to have regular contractions on the hour drive.  This was a new experience.

We arrived at the hospital around 3.  I very, very slowly made my way to the hospital entrance because contractions were coming so quickly, especially when I was moving.  The ER attendant asked if I wanted a wheelchair, but I really felt the need to keep moving.  Sitting did not sound appealing.   An aide met us in the ER and walked me up to the birthing center in the hospital.  She made the comment, "I hope they don't send you home."  I didn't say anything, but I knew that would not happen.  I had a calm exterior, but I knew the baby was coming!

A nurse got me settled in triage and informed my that there were no available beds.  "We've been so busy this month that all the rooms are full.  We're moving people now so hopefully, you can have a spot soon if you need it."  She hooked me up to monitors for a short trial to see how strong or close my contractions were coming.  I was so uncomfortable in the half-seated, half-reclined position.  I wiggled around as much as I could but it was miserable.

At 4:00, a second nurse said she wanted to check my dilation.  This was the first time I had been checked that day (or at all, actually, since my midwives don't check for progress during pregnancy).  She said that maybe if I was 5 or 6 centimeters, there would be more hurry to find me a room.  "Oh!" she exclaimed.  My first thought was that I was only a smidgen dilated, but next she said, "You are 8 centimeters and your water is bulging.  If that breaks, we could have a baby by dinnertime." Brian and I looked at each other, thinking, "That's a bold statement.  I doubt things are moving that quickly, especially with my history of slow labors."

The good news, though, was that I was immediately given a room that had been prepared for a woman coming in to be induced.  I walked across the hall, trying to ignore a contraction. I sat on the edge of the bed.  My midwife came in and told me to assume any position that was comfortable.  The contractions were coming so close together that I sat frozen even though I wanted to move.  The nurse commented that one contraction lasted a whole 2 minutes.  I felt pressure at the end of contractions that made me involuntarily lift myself off of the bed. The top of my belly started to press down on its own. I know all  this means it is almost time to push, but I wasn't thinking clearly at this point.

Suddenly my water broke.  My midwife guided me to find a more comfortable position.  With help, I turned backwards on the bed, upright on my knees with my arms leaning against the back of the bed.  My midwife urged me to follow my body's cues,  then she sat back to watch.  I felt a strong urge to push and my body took over.  Pushing went like lightening.  I could feel his head and then his body emerge. I am usually overwhelmed by pushing but it was not as terrifying as I remembered.

Judah was born at 4:33 pm, less than a half hour after I had walked to my room.

I pulled him up between my legs and then sat back on my heels, still backward on the bed.  This was a peaceful time as I held my baby. He made a whimper and then was quiet. There was no rush to cut the cord or deliver the placenta.  My legs started to fall asleep so someone helped me turn around and sit up in bed.  My midwife taught me how to see if the cord was still pulsing.  It kept going for a long time which means the placenta was strong and healthy.  Eventually, it stopped and Brian cut the cord.  The placenta kind of just fell out, with barely a push.

I was stunned-- in a wonderful way-- when it was all over.  Five or six hours before, I had been mentally preparing for labor to linger on for another day or so.  Just an hour before, I was chatting and bemoaning my uncomfortable position in triage.

Judah weighed 8 pounds, 4 ounces and was 20 inches long.  He was, and still is, a calm happy baby. That is a gift in a busy household of nine people.  Some people assume that being the seventh child, some of the novelty has worn off, but his older siblings compete for the rights to hold him.

We praise God for our gift of Judah Nathaniel! *

*Judah means "praise" while Nathaniel means "given by God."

Macie's Birth Story

Today I am sharing my promised birth story.  It is long and exciting but also kind of boring. If that is not your thing, kindly skip over this post.  For the rest of you, enjoy!

Last week I wrote a birth story prequel of sorts that you can read by clicking here.  In my 37 week pregnancy update (Tuesday, January 5), I shared that I was feeling upbeat.  I had more energy and I had fewer muscle aches.   At 37 weeks, 2 days (Thursday, January 7),  I went for a morning run.  It was a beautiful sunny morning and I ran 3.14 miles, arriving home feeling peaceful and encouraged. 

That day was a turning point, though. The rest of the day, I experienced many uncomfortable contractions.  My back, legs, and lower abdomen began to bother me.  I wouldn't describe it as pain but more like a heavy aching.  Brian suggested that I was in early labor, but I dismissed the idea. We were in the middle of a major repainting/rearranging process in the girls' bedroom and going into labor was not convenient!

I slept on the sofa in the living room that night because it was better support for my back.  After waking to use the bathroom at 3 am, I had a hard time sleeping because I continued to have tightening contractions every 10-12 minutes.  

When I got up on Friday morning (January 8), the contractions petered out.  I spent the morning and afternoon upset that all the discomfort of the day and night before had led to nothing.  I was grumpy so I channeled my energy into cleaning the house for company.

We went to Chick-fil-A for dinner that evening.  Getting out of the house improved my mood.  We visited with my sister for a few minutes before she started work and the greeter brought me a big cup of crushed ice (a late pregnancy craving).  After dinner, we picked up a few items we needed at Walmart and headed home.

Brian stayed up late that night finishing the painting in the girls' bedroom and I slept well (on the couch again) with no contractions.

Clinically, everything looked wonderful.   My strep test was negative, my blood pressure was excellent and stable, the baby's Doppler heart rate was good... it was a waiting game at this point. 

On Saturday (January 9), we planned to have friends over for games and dinner.  Brian and I decided to go running together in the morning.  Within seconds of starting, I had a major contraction so we walked the first ½ mile.  We ended up running another 2½ or 3 miles before calling it quits. My legs were a little sore afterwards, but it felt good to be moving. 

Our friends arrived at 3 that afternoon.  The men started talking, the boys started playing and the women and girls went into the girls' room to see the new paint. I made the comment, "I feel like we've made enough progress now that it will be okay any time the baby wants to come."    We were standing in the middle of the room talking about toy storage, closets, and organization when I felt a sharp pinch in my lower abdomen.  I thought it was a gas pain so I shifted my weight to the other leg when I felt a little trickle.  Still oblivious, I thought the movement had caused a little bladder leakage...and then I felt a gush.

I realized then that my water had broken.  It was totally unexpected and my first instinct was to not say anything.  We  need to play games and eat dinner.  It is still 17 days before my due date!  All the action and thoughts transpired within 30 seconds and reality set in.  I told my friend, "My water just broke."  She looked incredulous and said, "Really?"  Brian walked by the bedroom just then and I called out, "Hey.  My water just broke."  He reacted the same way.  "Really?"

I was frozen for a few minutes.  Everyone asked me what I wanted to do but I couldn't think.  I went to the bathroom to clean up and when I came out, we made a plan.  I was only having mild, irregular contractions so we decided to put dinner in the oven and eat before doing anything.  Our friends needed to eat, our kids needed to eat, and I needed to eat for strength before active labor started.  (I did call my mom to alert her since she was on call to watch our kids when I went to the hospital. I kind of sent her into a tailspin, though.  You can read her perspective here.)

The kids ate at the table and the adults gathered around our coffee table, chatting about our own experiences with midwives, doctors, and birth.  I felt an amazing calm.  I was not nervous about labor, though I did have a niggling awareness that since my water had broken, I might be on a 24-hour clock.  (Many practitioners insist that there be no more than 24 hours between water breaking and delivery for fear of infection.)  We ate fruit salad with ham and poppyseed sliders.  (A funny side note:  My initial urine sample in the hospital tested positive for opiates-- because of the poppyseeds!)

Our friends left around 5 and we started packing our hospital bags.  I had light contractions that were coming 10-12 minutes apart.  I stopped to breathe through them, but they were extremely manageable.  Bouncing on my exercise ball kept them steady and I ate some more fruit while the kids drifted in and out of our bedroom asking questions.  I called my mom again and getting no answer, we decided to wait a little longer.  I wanted to take a nap and go in late at night (or in the morning!), but Brian thought it better to go sooner since we had an hour drive to the hospital.  My midwife agreed.  We ended up texting my mom, asking her to arrive around 7:30 pm.

leaving for the hospital

We got to the hospital around 9 pm on Saturday evening. I didn't want to go in because my contractions were still spaced so far apart and the 24-hour window was bothering me. Our nurse was Jacalyn.  She told me that a doctor was on call and a midwife would not be back until morning-- a huge disappointment.  She reviewed my birth plan with me and we agreed not to start an IV. When she checked my dilation, I was only 1 cm, but I was admitted because of my broken water. 

We got settled in our room and then started walking the halls.  That really helped keep the contractions coming.  Jacalyn noted that even though they were widely spaced, the contractions I had were strong.  She asked if I minded a short period (20-30 minutes) of monitoring.  I was nervous about the semi-reclining position, but I found that I actually liked it.  My contractions started coming every five minutes instead and I was able to relax and sleep between each one.  Brian was also able to lie down and get about 2 hours of sleep. We did more walking after that, but I had to stop for contractions so often that I felt more comfortable in my room.

Closer to morning, I decided to try laboring in the tub, but the warm water slowed my labor to a crawl so I got out.  The doctor came in to see me and asked if I wanted to continue natural labor.  I said yes and he agreed without hesitation, not mentioning how long ago my water had broken.  

At 7 am, one of my favorite midwives, Tiana, came on duty.  She checked me and I was only 4-5 centimeters dilated.  Still, it was progress.  I asked for an exercise ball and spent hours making a path between the ball and the bathroom.  My frequent need to pee told me that the baby was moving down.  Every time I walked the short distance to the bathroom or the short distance back to the ball, I had a major contraction. Sitting on the ball brought frequent but less powerful contractions.

Throughout my labor, I only had four contractions with which I teetered on the brim of coping.  The rest were strong, possibly even painful, but I could concentrate and relax until they peaked and ebbed.  The four difficult ones did not come together, but  were spaced throughout the labor.  When one of those ended, I would prepare myself for the rest of the labor to be challenging, but it always went back to manageable again. 

During the night, I snacked on graham crackers, a granola bar, and juice with lots of ice, but by 10:30 am, I was starving!  My new nurse, Beverly, asked if I'd like a sandwich.  I thought that chicken salad sandwich with lettuce and tomato was the best thing I'd ever tasted!   

The next time I was checked, I was 6-7 centimeters, but I was effacing so there was evidence of slow, steady progress. Still no mention was made of the fact that I was closing in on 24 hours.  Early in the afternoon, the contractions suddenly became closer and more regular.  They were 3 minutes apart, and sometimes one would peak twice.  I could sense each contraction starting before I could feel the tightening.  I continued to move around the room and between contractions, I could carry on a conversation.  I told Brian that aside from the length, this labor was easy.  I suspected that I was moving towards transition because occasionally my legs would start shaking.  

Beverly asked me to have a bit of monitoring again.  I was strangely intrigued by the TOCO readings.  When a contraction would start, I needed to close my eyes and relax all my muscles.  Brian would whisper, "It's at 50 now, okay 60, 70, 80. Okay. It's starting to go down now. Hearing a number to describe what I was feeling helped me cope as the contractions got stronger and stronger, but he wisely didn't tell me until afterward when I had a contraction that double-peaked over 100!  

Sometime between 3 and 3:30, Tiana asked if I would consider starting Pitocin, but I declined.  I was at 8 centimeters and I could tell that labor was starting to progress quickly.  Beverly asked if my labors tended to go quickly at the end and suggested I get back into the tub.  The warm water was amazing.  I told Brian that the difference in how I experienced the contractions was like night and day.  Almost immediately, though, I started feeling pressure at the peak of each contraction.  Brian urged me to get out of the tub before it became impossible to, but I resisted.  I did get out to use the bathroom, but then I got back in again.  I realized immediately that I had made a poor choice.  The pressure was unbelievable and I needed to push. 

I slowly made my ways back into the room, stopping in the doorway to breathe through a pushy contraction. For the first time since labor began, I was scared.  Pushing is always the most intense part of labor for me because it moves so quickly.  I pushed weakly through the first contraction, nervous about the pain.  Beverly tried to help me to pull back my knees, but that was not at all a position that felt comfortable! I didn't want to speak at this point, but Brian could tell I didn't like it and asked her to stop. Tiana told me to take a deep breath and push through my bottom.  After that, it was only two contractions before Macie was born.  They put her on my chest and she calmly looked back at me.

Tiana mentioned that Macie must have been doing somersaults because there was a knot in her cord. Beverly said, "Was that not the most calm and laid back labor ever?"

Macie Violet arrived at 4:14 pm on Sunday, January 10.  (This was 25 hours after labor began and about an hour after I declined Pitocin.) She was 16 days early and weighed 6 pounds, 11.5 ounces.  She was 20.5 inches long.  (Owen, who was born at the same gestational age weighed over a pound more but measured shorter!)

I've heard it said that you can have an easy pregnancy, labor, or postpartum period, but rarely all three.  I felt the healthiest during this pregnancy compared to any of my previous pregnancies.  The postpartum has been gentle.  Many people who know me personally have empathized with me and asked if my long labor was difficult.  I tell them that aside from it lasting over a day, it was an easy labor.  It progressed naturally at its own pace with no augmentation or interventions. 

I love that she arrived early enough to avoid the last (sometimes miserable) weeks of pregnancy, but not so early to be considered premature.  I am also thankful that she arrived on a mild, warm weekend because we had snow the following weekend and we are in the middle of a snow/rain/ice storm this weekend, too.  Above all, I am thankful for the gift of our healthy baby.