Miss Mae’s Pregnancy and Birth (Part II)
Free at last
They finally let us out! I was officially discharged from our long stay at the hospital when you were 34 weeks old in my womb. That morning was a glorious morning!
The doctors arrived and after a quick exam, they told me that the amount of dilation had not changed a bit for 10 weeks. Your waters (the liquid bag you were swimming around in) were still bulging and all were amazed that I hadn’t gone into labor yet.
Now you had grown big enough that if I were to go into labor early, we would most likely have adequate time to get to a hospital before you were born.
As soon as the doctors said their goodbyes and left to start working on the paperwork that would release us, I popped out of bed and started packing!
The nurse said we could take our time gathering our things. I held back a massive, “HA!!!” and instead replied with a polite, “thank you” and continued on my mission to bust out of that room …and wing and… whole building! Excruciatingly sore muscles the next day taught me how unwise it was to suddenly start moving around like that after so much time on bedrest.
Once all the paperwork was complete, I snapped one last shot of our hospital board as Daddy finished loading up our car. It was exhilarating to be wheeled outside, helped into the passenger side of our little Honda Fit, still pregnant with your empty carseat installed in the back seat.
I briefly thought back a few weeks to one of our wheelchair outings when Daddy showed me he had just put in your carseat. I weeped and weeped and laughed with joy and was moved by yet another act of faith and hope your father did for me, for us.
Going Home
It was the strangest thing, that ride home! It was odd seeing the world outside the hospital, yet it felt so normal as if the past 10 weeks hadn’t even happened.
We arrived at our tiny cottage on Brady’s Hill Road and Daddy held my arm as my very weak legs slowly climbed the steps. Grannie and Papa were outside working in our little garden beds, finishing up their recent visit from Florida.
I don’t remember too much about the following few weeks, except a whirlwind of packing and an a gradual increase of physical activity again. During our hospital stay, we were informed that our landlords had sold their property and we would need to find a new home and move out soon!
On moving day a few weeks after returning home, Daddy had rounded up a legion of strong guys to do all the heavy work and Nana had arrived from California to help us unpack. Uncle David and Aunt Debbie also arrived to help and for a week we had a blast settling into our new apartment in Lake Ridge. Nana, UD and AD took us on a shopping spree to IKEA, UD patiently installed curtains and Nana and AD heroically covered our cabinets with pretty contact paper. Daddy put together the cosleeper by our bed and I set up the den as your little nursery. There was always a bottle of wine open on the counter and Daddy was loving having his family with us.
Things Changing
When you were around 37 weeks, Daddy got to start his summer vacation. For two weeks we reveled in our new, completely settled home. I would often sleep in and wake up to Daddy reading on the balcony, ready to have coffee together. One morning he surprised me by having done all the research necessary to confidently tell me it was safe for me to go swimming (I had numerous restrictions like this suggested by doctors). I excitedly shrieked and we went to the pool at our apartment that day. As I eased into the water, it felt like all my body pain had instantly disappeared and I again, cried and cried and laughed in gratitude while Daddy held me and pulled me around in circles.
On the last day of July, we were 39 weeks along (miracle!) and we decided to go on a shopping trip to get Daddy some work clothes for the upcoming school year. Daddy remembers that I told him, “something’s different today.” I think you felt lower in my belly for one, but what else… I’m not sure I could describe what was different- I just knew there was some sort of new shift in my body.
I recall noticing that my strength was increasing some as I was able to stand and browse dress shirts and squat down to reach some on low shelves. We made it to the checkout after waiting in a very long line when we realized we had grabbed the wrong size of one of the shirts. I fast-walked like nobody’s business to the rear of the store and back, feeling you even lower in my belly.
Back at home, I was folding laundry on the couch in the living room while Daddy was sitting nearby. It was evening time, in the 6 o’clock hour, and we had just called to wish Uncle Jake a “happy birthday.” I started to notice some tighter and more frequent Braxton Hicks contractions. I suggested to Daddy, “Let’s practice timing these.” Excited to rehearse he said, “okay!” and started timing how long the contractions would last, and how far apart they were, on his wrist watch. It was about 6:45 p.m.
And it Began
The timing between the first and second contraction was about 14 minutes. The next interval was 10 minutes and the next around 12. They started feeling stronger so I announced, “I’ll go take a shower and see if they go away.” Daddy kept timing, the next contraction arriving 8 minutes later. Then the contractions became significantly more intense. The following string of contractions were about 5 minutes apart.
At that point, I had sat down in the tub to focus on breathing, and switched the water from the shower head to the tub faucet. Daddy sat on the floor outside the tub and I did my best to say out loud when I thought one had started and finished. We attempted to try our Bradley Method script meant to guide me through “the waves” but I just could not focus. I kept apologizing I couldn’t do it, it seemed like I just couldn’t follow the pace of his voice and slow down enough to enter into that place of calm.
Daddy got on the phone with the midwife and gave her the details. She said to keep her updated and then Daddy called our friend and doula Laura. After he explained what was going on, she said it seemed like things were happening and to also keep her updated. While he was on the phone I had moved out of the tub and was having trouble breathing slowly through the intensity of the contractions. I don’t remember this at all, but Daddy said I showed him that the mucous plug had passed (and he recalls thinking, “Whoah! This is it.”). He had stopped timing contractions at this point, trying to both communicate on the phone and be present to me. The midwife called back a few minutes later and said to Daddy, “I was thinking about your history and actually think it would be a good idea to come in.” Calling back Laura, she answered, “Yeah… I’m already filling up the car with gas and am on my way!”
While Daddy ran around grabbing things on our list, I got dressed between intense (can I say brutal?) contractions in the bedroom. I remember leaning on the bed during one and wondering, if these are early labor contractions, how in the world was I going to be able to handle the later ones?
I made it to the front door and sat down between the next few contractions to put my shoes on. Daddy was ready to go by then and I looked up and asked him if we could just stay here. He firmly gave a negative and I asked, pleadingly, “just one more contraction here.” He said, “absolutely not!” urged me up, out the door and down the stairs. I moaned though another intense contraction standing outside the car door, apparently in front of a few neighbors smoking cigarettes, then we got in the car. With eyes closed, I cried and told Daddy, “I don’t know if I can do this…” which is the exact line many women say when they are in transition. I also added at some point, “I feel like pushing.” With eyes big, Daddy knew it was serious and threw the car into reverse.
Unforgettable car ride
Daddy raced us down Old Bridge Road while I clung onto the roof grab handle with my right hand and the arm rest with my left. Daddy shot a text to Aunt Catie to tell her we were on our way to the hospital. The next contraction began. I screamed and wailed through that one, total opposite of the cool and collected me I had imagined I could be during labor.
Our birth classes encouraged us to use different language during labor for painful sensations, such as “strong pressure” or “more intense.” Frankly, I kept thinking, “nope. this is definitely pain. a lot a lot a lot of pain.” Honestly, it felt to me like my pelvic floor bones were being torn apart like a wishbone on Thanksgiving Day.
However, a Good and Gracious God allows breaks between contractions. Daddy remembers that every time a contraction subsided, I would just say, “Thank you, God. Thank you, God. Oh thank God for this break. I’m so grateful…” and then “oh no! here comes one again!” and back to clawing at Daddy’s arm and trying my best to breathe through the next few minutes. Daddy would suggest another loved one in our lives I could offer that contraction for. He’d say, “ok, this one’s for Catie, this one is a prayer for Catie!”
We both will never ever forget the stunning and massive full moon that rose that night and about filled our entire windshield. Between the first several contractions on the road we marveled in complete awe at its beauty.
45 minutes later, Daddy pulled us up to the front door of the hospital. We got out of the car, he ran around to my side and standing leaning on him, I made it through another contraction. We walked into a quiet lobby and somehow Daddy found a wheelchair. He didn’t even park the car and rushed me to the elevator. I clung to my rosary as tears poured out of my eyes through another contraction.
“Stop and Drop”
The woman at the Labor and Delivery welcome desk asked if I was in labor (Daddy and I thought this was absurd and quite obvious) and she told Daddy that for some reason they didn’t have our necessary paperwork. We had made sure to pre-register, but they didn’t have it. When she said,”you need to fill out this paperwork,” Daddy just took the packet, walked right past her to follow a nurse that seemed to be a little more aware of the urgency.
Once in the room, one of the nurses suggested they check how far along/ dilated I was and I said loudly, “NO THANK YOU, I need to use the restroom.” Daddy says one of the nurses made an offended face like, “woah, alright fine…” but they left me alone. Side note, Daddy says that was the same nurse I “splashed” when my water broke. Oh goodness!
After peeing, another contraction started and I just remained sitting on the toilet. I felt so much pressure from your head. Karen, the midwife, arrived on a mission and led me to the bed. After stripping my dress off and checking me, she declared, “well! this baby is coming! I’m going to break your water and then you’ll start pushing.”
I don’t remember the gushing waters, but Daddy says it was a sight to see! He came to one side and our doula Laura had arrived and joined me on the other. A nurse prepared an epidural, but the midwife, knowing I had wanted if possible to have an unmedicated birth, told her we weren’t going to need it. They kept trying to clip a sensor of some sort (to read my oxygen levels?) on my index finger, and I asked them to take it off as it was really distracting me. The nurse told me they need to keep it on. I yanked it off when I started pushing during the next contraction. It’s not that I wanted to be defiant… at that point, there was just no caring about anything but getting you birthed!
The memories we have during the pushing stage are me telling Daddy he had bad breath, me begging for help holding my legs as I was still so weak to hold them on my own while lying on my back, and Karen asking me if I wanted to touch your head when you were crowning (I said “no” and Daddy peeked and said, “whoah!”).
Then you were here.
At 9:53 p.m., through the fire, came the most beautiful baby girl.
Our girl
The doctors took you right away to a nearby station to check you out/ clean you up as there was some meconium in your waters. As the midwife and our doula were helping me birth the placenta and stitch the tear, Daddy stayed right by you, in shock how they “manhandled” you with all the quick rubbing, liquid sucking, etc. They concluded by wrapping you up and placing you in his strong, gentle arms, with a “congratulations!”
After the necessary procedures, I got to hold you to my chest. My baby! Our girl! The euphoria of your presence, your warmth, your smell, your life.
Holding you, we started processing everything. We could hardly believe you were born under 4 hours (what the hospital staff call a “stop and drop”). I could hardly believe I made it through that birth. The women in the room told me what a rockstar pusher I was and I felt proud. Someone gave me a big bag of trail mix, and I ate it ravenously! You started latching and nursing. We realized maybe we should let family know you arrived, so we texted a picture of you and Daddy to Aunt Catie for her to spread the word.
What a complete whirlwind. We could finally see your perfect face! Gaze and smile upon this miracle child who would never cease to surprise and delight us. We are forever thankful for your health, your presence, the unrepeatable gift of you, dear daughter. I pray you always know, without any doubt, how profoundly precious and loved you are, how deeply wanted and cherished. Your Creator is so Beautiful in all His ways… may we never lose our wonder, sweet girl.
Love, Mama
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