Birth Story #3

Friday started off like any other day of my pregnancy. It was sort of miserable. For weeks, I had felt like death warmed over, a combination of flu-like symptoms and pregnancy ailments plaguing me. I stepped on the scale and saw that I had lost six pounds if that tells you anything about what the last few days had been like for me. They were rough. Still, it was becoming my new normal and I thought nothing of it. I hoped I would have the baby soon, but I had no idea how soon that could be!

Abel had an appointment that day to get re-fitted for his hearing aids. It was the last thing I wanted to do because I was feeling so under the weather, but I knew I should do it because delivery day was drawing near and so is Abel's surgery date so I wanted to get it done before hand. I carted my big boy, my middle child, and my unborn off into the pouring rain of East TN. We managed to make it into the appointment without any huge tantrums and I was starting to feel as if I had all this a little more under control than I thought. That feeling changed quickly shortly after we got home and I noticed I was having contractions. I had been contracting for weeks, sometimes pretty regularly, so I didn't think much of these pains until they had me laid up on the couch texting my husband that he was soooo in charge of the kids when he got home because I needed to take yet another bath and relax. He got home shortly after, poured me a big glass of water, and ran the bath for me. Ahh! Finally. I could relax. HA!

The bath felt wonderful and certainly eased the pain of my contractions. Still, I laid there thinking- these feel a bit different. I called Captain J from the warmth of the tub and asked him to come see me when he could sneak away from our wild indians. He came in and I said, "Do your parents have any plans today? Do you think we should call them?" He said he'd give them a call. I decided it wouldn't hurt to get checked out (again)- better to be safe than sorry. I stood up to get out of the tub and the contractions got worse. I had been timing and they went from 6-8 minutes apart to 2-3 very quickly. Nearly in tears as I tried to throw some items into a half-packed hospital bag, J suggested we call someone in the area that could get here a lot quicker. I'm so glad he did. My great aunt arrived a few minutes later to watch the kids and we were off. The hospital is about twenty minutes away, but that doesn't take into account rush hour traffic and heavy rain!

The ride to the hospital got more and more frantic. I realized I was most definitely in active labor about half way there. I started making comments to J that he needed to drive better, faster- JUST GET ME THERE OR WE'RE GOING TO HAVE THIS BABY ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD! Perhaps I'm a dramatic person sometimes. I know my husband thinks I can be a little emotional about things, but pregnancy pains are not one of them. I keep a level head. Multiple nurses have told me that and I know it to be true. At one point, the rain was coming so hard that I almost told J to pull over on the Interstate and dial 911 because I was sure he was going to have to deliver the baby in the rain on the side of the road. Luckily, the rain eased up and the traffic pressed on and we were soon pulling off our exit. Five o'clock on a Friday in Chattanooga, TN is not somewhere you wanna be when you're in labor, let me tell ya. The traffic was thick. We sat through three THREE green lights just trying to get off the exit and I was starting to lose it. In an effort to make J understand that he needed to turn on the flashers and drive like a maniac, I told him the truth- "I feel lots of pressure. I'm going to be pushing soon. DO NOT TELL ME NOT TO PUSH. I KNOW." Finally, my alarm was registering with my Type A Army Officer husband. He started meandering through the cars like a champ and pretty soon we were screaming into the parking lot in our jeep. He pulled up to the door and ran in looking for a wheelchair for me, but no one was around. Meanwhile, I'm letting myself out of the car and hobbling into the doors...barely. J finds the chair, sits me in it and we make our way up the elevator to labor and delivery. My moans alert the nurse to skip introductions or paperwork and just open the door to let us into the first room. All social or procedural expectations out the window, I drop my pants without instruction. The nurse says, "First time?" I said, "No, third." And she jumped into action. When she checked me she started yelling to the staff that there was nothing there (meaning I was fully effaced and dilated) and to call the doctor. I told her the doctor wouldn't make it and it turns out I was right. My body was involuntarily pushing. They wheeled me into the delivery room where I warned the girls that my water exploded last time so beware. With all the excitement, the room was filling up fast. Ten or so nurses chuckled at my comment until they were shocked into a momentary silence as my water broke all over a bystander. "I'm sorry! I warned you!" I said as she assured me it was okay, but she could see the head. To her credit, she didn't tell me not to push, as if that's an option anyway.

My beautiful third born arrived after about three pushes. We hadn't been at the hospital five minutes. My Chacos were still strapped to my feet! 

When I think about that intense hour of my life, it feels a little terrifying but mostly just miraculous. God has given me the most precious gift. All I want to do is hold him all day and stare at his perfection. These little boys are everything to me.

Birth Story- Baby A

(First of all, let me start by saying I like to keep things pretty neat and clean around here. With that being said, I'm also going to tell you a lot about my birthing experience with Baby A so if that sort of thing weirds you out...well, you'll have to just check back in in a few days. Ye be warned.)

My mom and sister arrived Sunday night after driving all day to get here from Tennessee. They came with plans to help us out, especially in regard to watching Cray K while we headed to the hospital for my induction day on Monday morning. I went to bed that night feeling quite uncomfortable. I wasn't necessarily contracting, but my back was killing me and my nerves were completely shot. I was a mess, worrying about every little thing about the impending birth. I was told to wake up at 5am to come into the hospital to be induced. Instead, I woke up around 2 o'clock in the morning in pain. The contractions in the middle of the night thing was nothing new to me so I didn't think much of it until they became worse. By 3am I was calling the hospital to ask their opinion on if I should go ahead and come in. The nurse told me, "You should come in when your contractions last a minute and are coming every five minutes." I was torn. My contractions were three minutes apart, but only lasting about 40 seconds. This sounds absurd to me now--GO IN MRS. K! But I was still worried about my husband getting a little extra shut eye because I'm still thinking I'm going to be induced and it's going to be a very long day. Naturally, I decided to blog.

I find it hilarious that I typed up a post in active labor before even telling my dear husband that he was about to be a dad to TWO!

Anyway, at 3:30am, I woke up Captain J and told him we should probably head that way because my contractions were pretty close together. I suppose I didn't understand or reiterate the severity of the situation because I soon found my dear husband slowly making preparations for the day. Hmm...what to wear? What sort of coffee should I make? Just where is that special coffee mug I like? Oh, look a toy in the floor, I'll pick that up! That's what it seemed like he was thinking. We were finally on the road by 4am. On the 30 minute drive to the hospital, he soon learned that I was pretty serious about this pain and he spent the drive telling me that I really should have roused him from his slumber much sooner. Obviously, I started thinking that, too. Ouch, those contractions were no joke!

I was attempting not to be dramatic so we followed all the rules. We stopped at every red light. We slowly pulled into the post gates for ID checks. We parked. And then it hit me. I have to walk in without crying hysterically like a crazy pregnant woman (because aren't those women sooo dramatic?). I walked into the hospital doors and J grabbed a wheelchair for me which I was grateful for. By the time we reached labor and delivery, I was full-on ohmygoshthisistotallyit!

The front desk nurse also noticed this too and quickly hurried me to a room. Minutes later I became that pregnant woman I secretly judged. There were no dainty moans or lady-like complaints escaping my lips as I labored. Oh, no. I sounded more like a body builder trying to break his dead lift record. I was so ashamed. I barely got into my gown before I was all- WHERE IN THE WORLD IS THAT ANESTHESIOLOGIST? The nurse hesitantly told me that I was 5cm and that he would get there as soon as he could, but he wasn't actually in the hospital. I tried not to cry. I think I succeeded. Another nurse walked in asking me if I'd like to get in the shower. Perhaps I'd like to stand up and sway back and forth? Or maybe I'd like a birthing ball. My first thought was, but but I just want some druuuuugs! Clearly, that wasn't an option at the moment so I told her I would take the birthing ball. I sat down as instructed and within minutes, I'm telling her, "I'm burning! I feel like I should push!" I feel confident that she thought I was a total nutcase as I was just at 5 not too long ago. She must have registered my terror because she decided to check for herself. The two nurses are very encouraging as they say, "Okay, you're ready to go!" I had already progressed to 10.

In strolls the man with syringe in hand ready to place that gloriousness in my back to numb the whole experience. He tells me he can still give me the epidural if I'd like. After all, the doctor isn't in the hospital either and he'll have to be called. To Captain J's astonishment, I turned him away. Why would I numb myself now? It would probably only have kicked in after the fact and I wouldn't be able to walk for hours afterward for no reason. I distinctly recall J saying, "Are you sure you don't want it?" with much confusion on his face.

I wasn't in the mood for talking, though. I was still grunting like a body builder and trying not to have a baby since I was not exactly encouraged to push, as if that is really an option in that moment. I finally got out that I didn't want the epidural, all I wanted was the doctor to get there so I could just make this end. I'm sure I had a little more tact than I'm remembering now, but probably not much more.

There was no breaking down of the bed.
There were no stirrups.
I simply rolled over and after very few pushes, there's a perfect, slimy, gooey little baby laying on my tummy. In that moment, there was absolutely zero pain. There was only this living miracle staring back at me. I was all smiles. I couldn't believe it. It all happened so quickly.
Over the next hour, I got to hold my newborn skin-to-skin, just like I desperately wanted to do with K but didn't have the opportunity to do. Captain J stayed close by, soaking in the newness of being a father all over again. He also got to cut the cord this time which made him even happier.
I wouldn't change a thing, of course. Baby and I are doing great! I was up and walking shortly after I delivered, feeling like a million bucks. Recovery thus far has been quite different and I much prefer this time around. I never thought I'd say it, but maybe the no pain killer route is the way to go.
I thank God for this precious gift he has given us. A has been such a delight. I spend my days cherishing his sweet sleeping frame on me, breastfeeding him, changing him, and doing the same with big brother, K. Life is so so sweet. Sometimes I just want to hit the pause button and stay in this scene forever.

P.S.- Thank you all very much for the congrats via Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Email, Texts. We're home as you probably know and we're all doing well.

Love,

a birth story

The woman clutches her womb, sending a knowing glance toward her husband. The look tells him, "this is it" and he quickly and efficiently heads to the nursery to grab her Vera Bradley hospital bag, lovingly packed with several onesies that she cannot choose which the babe will wear first. Together, they drive to the hospital and in between contractions, they smile at each other and talk about how excited they are that their lives are about to change forever.

That's the way I saw Baby K's birthday going down. Totally did.not.happen.

I started off the day with a doctor's appointment on Tuesday morning. This was after an eventful Monday spent at the hospital with ridiculously high blood pressure. They eventually sent me home with plans to return the next day to see my regular doctor. After taking my blood pressure a few more times, they collectively decided that inducing would be best. I can't say that I wasn't relieved. I was.

They scheduled my induction for the next morning and I drove home with plans of doing homework and spending my last night before motherhood in bed. Captain J decided to go see a doctor about his shoulder since we were already at the hospital. He planned on coming home and taking care of me afterward. As I was spreading the good news to family and friends about our impending miracle, the hospital called. They said, "We think you should come back now."

EEk! Now? Like as in, turn my car around, walk into the hospital, and have a baby? Oh my gravy.

I said I would be back soon and went home to grab a few things and more importantly, eat! Meanwhile, J is stuck in the hospital with no cell service and I'm frantically redialing his phone over and over to tell him we're about to be parents.

You know that lovely scenario I mentioned? Well, imagine this one:

Woman grabs belly and looks to her left and her right. No one is at home to take her to the hospital. She must drive herself.

That was more like it. At this point, I had been contracting for over a week with little results. As I drove myself back, I realized my contractions were about 2 min apart. I got in the birthing room after getting a hold of J who rushed up, still in his ACUs. This was it! I settled in for a long day laboring. Periodically, my nurses would come in the room, asking if I was okay and if I needed painkillers. I repeatedly told them I was fine and that now that the baby had turned anterior, I wasn't feeling the contractions that much. They couldn't believe it, as the contractions were measuring off the charts. I began to think, maybe I won't get an epidural.

HA!

An hour later, I was quite whiney and an hour after that, I was desperate. Unfortunately, I had waited too long to tell anyone about my pain and the doc was in surgery with someone else. After a few more hours, he finally came in and I have never been happier to see a middle aged, short, bald man with a syringe in his hand ever before in my life. The epidural was welcoming. I didn't mind that minor poke in my spine after what I had just gone through. Anyway, the epidural was amazing. It truly allowed me to enjoy the birth of Baby K.

For the rest of the day, I laid around playing words with friends on my phone and cracking jokes with my loving husband. When "YaYa" and "Aunt Paige" arrived at the hospital around midnight, there was still no baby. I broke the news to them that I wasn't even dilated a solid 4cm yet. To say I was discouraged after 12 hours, is an understatement. We visited with them awhile then the nurse wanted to check me again. They left the room thinking I was at 4 and they re-entered hearing the nurse yell, "We need to break down the bed!"

I was fully dilated to 10 cm and fully effaced. She asked me to push a little and quickly told me to stop. They called the doctor and all of the sudden, I'm supposed to know how to push a human being out of me. Craziness. Obviously, I figured it out ;) Delivery  didn't go as I expected either. It was all so fast.

Monitoring the baby's heartbeat told them that it was dropping quickly. I didn't understand what was going on at first until I started listening to the sound waves and only heard my own, slower heartbeat broadcasting. Doc said we had to get the baby out now so I pushed as hard as I could and out came our precious little K. The cord had been wrapped around his neck so when I finally heard him cry seconds later (which felt like minutes later), I was overjoyed! Thinking back now, it makes me cry. I can't look at him without thinking how he holds my entire life in his tiny little hands.

Baby K weighed in at 6lbs, 8oz and 20.5 inches long- a cute bundle of perfection, if you ask me.

Daddy and Baby K

Reppin' Ft. Polk!

Look at that face!

When he makes this face, he is allll daddy. :) And how cute is that hat? Special thanks to the reader who sent it- I love it!

No matter how this sweet baby made his way into the world, I'm so so happy he did.