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Baby

Baby No. 3

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Baby No. 3

Chris and I celebrated our 7 year wedding anniversary and four weeks later received a belated gift – we were pregnant. I told Chris by leaving clues around the house however, he was not thrilled by the news. (We had just come to the decision that we were going to wait another year before trying again…whoops.)

I did not tell our family until after the 8 week ultrasound and honestly, their reactions weren’t what I was expecting; my father-in-law said to Chris, “Come here and let me slap you.” My brother said, “Don’t you know about condoms?” My grandma said, “I’m never babysitting for you on your anniversary again.” All joking aside, it was incredibly disheartening.

Because we weren’t trying to get pregnant, I was anxious about what I did and did not do, not knowing I was pregnant. I wasn’t taking folic acid or a prenatal. I had been in a hot tub. I drank alcohol. My OB reassured me that everything would be okay and that I didn’t “mess up” the baby.

Chris and I celebrated my 30th birthday in Chicago while my in-laws watched Millie and Wells. This was the first time I had been away from Wells over night. We FaceTimed and bought the kids souvenirs. To my surprise, I didn’t feel nauseous at all and we did tons of walking, went on a skyscraper tour, sat in the sun, went to two concerts, and ate lots of different foods – zero illness or fatigue. It was a great trip.

A week after Chicago, the sickness set in. The OB recommended a vitamin and sleeping pill concoction to ease the nausea however, I didn’t feel comfortable taking it. Sleeping came easy and actually helped the nausea; I would be asleep in bed by 9pm. Wheat Thins, grapes, and unsweetened tea were my nutrition. Brushing my teeth and clearing my throat were the worst; I’d throw up every time.

I swore this baby was a girl; I was super sick when I was pregnant with Millie but not Wells. Chris and I decided that we were not going to find out the gender of this baby. Having a girl and boy already, we would be prepared either way. Many people were supportive of our wanting to be surprised. Our OB said that less than 5% of his pregnant patients wait to find out the gender. We were excited to give ourselves such a big surprise.

Like clockwork, at 14 weeks, I was no longer sick. I began taking one baby aspirin every night to best deter the preeclampsia I experienced with Millie. My newest ailment was a clicking in my lower back, which my OB called sciatic nerve pain. (I found out later that this was actually my SI joint.) It clicked the worst at night, going up and down the stairs, or if I was doing housework. I started going to a chiropractor that specialized in pregnancy adjustments and this seemed to help for about a week at a time.

We didn’t tell Millie and Wells about the pregnancy until they started to notice. Wells would smack my stomach and say, “Big, big belly.” Millie noticed when I picked her up from school one day and I was wearing a form fitting dress. She said, “Is there a baby in there?” Millie and Wells were both excited when we told them they would have a new sibling in March. Millie wanted the baby to be a girl and Wells of course, wanted the baby to be a boy. On the way to ballet one Saturday morning, Millie said from the backseat, “Mommy, let’s talk baby names. I like the name Cora.” Wells liked the name William (Baby Shark’s fish friend) and Catboy. We gravitated to calling the babe, New Baby.

At our 20 week ultrasound, we found out that the baby’s legs were measuring in the 7th percentile. We were concerned so the OB scheduled another ultrasound at 26 weeks to make sure the baby was developing appropriately. (At 26 weeks the baby’s femoral length was in the 14th percentile and the OB was not concerned.) I was struggling to connect with this pregnancy because I couldn’t call the baby by name. We decided to do a 3D ultrasound so that I could see the baby’s face. Millie and Wells came to this appointment with us. This baby was so cute and looked so much like his/her siblings.

Third trimester was rough. My hips ached, especially in the mornings, I had so much pelvic pressure, and I was peeing every hour. At 33 weeks, my ankles and feet got really swollen. I was instructed to go to labor and delivery to get preeclampsia blood panels drawn. Thankfully, everything came back normal and I was able to go home. The doctor on call had four children herself and gave me some advice on how to make it through the duration of my pregnancy. She recommended that I sleep on a wedge pillow instead of on my left side. Fortunately, my grandma had a wedge pillow that I could borrow and within two nights of using it to sleep, keeping my hips straight and not collapsed on each other, my hip and pelvic pain reduced significantly. This doctor also recommended pelvic floor therapy because she was confident I’d have a uterine prolapse in my future…terrifying. When I told this to my OB, he disagreed with her and said there was no validity to her statement. Only time will tell.

We celebrated Wells’ third birthday with a great party. Family and friends came and most everyone commented on how “big” I was. “You didn’t look this huge the last time I saw you!” and “You’re as big as an elephant.” and “Sit down. You’re making people feel bad.” and “You’re ready, aren’t you?” and “If you get any bigger, you’ll pop!” It’s bizarre how pregnancy gives people the freedom to speak upon another’s body. All I wanted to do was throw an awesome birthday party for Wells – no attention on my body or the new baby.

After Wells’ party, my schedule was free to welcome the new baby. Because we chose not to know the baby’s gender, I went through both Millie and Wells’ premie, newborn, and 0-3 month clothes and washed and organized them. Chris and I packed (and triple checked) our hospital bags, we set up childcare for Millie and Wells, I stocked the fridge, Chris set up the pack-and-play, all in preparation for the babe.

Two weeks after my first labor and delivery visit, my OB instructed me to go back in because of high blood pressure (140/95). My feet, ankles, and fingers were swollen. The back of my legs felt numb. I had gained 10lbs in a week. I developed a constant headache. Gestational hypertension had set in and my OB planned an induction for the day I hit 37 weeks. I was nervous, anxious, and excited all at once. While I was hooked up to the monitors, a nurse asked, “Are you feeling those contractions?” I thought I was just hungry. The monitor also showed two deviations in the baby’s heart rate. An ultrasound tech measured my amniotic fluid – all normal. I was told to report back to labor and delivery if my BP was higher than 160/110. I was to check my BP three times a day and elevate my feet as much as I could. I was released for the night with an invitation to come back the next week.

My last day at work was bitter sweet; I would definitely miss my students. My colleagues gave me good luck wishes but it wasn’t until I was asked, “Are you nervous? Giving birth is scary.” that it kicked in that I was leaving to have a baby. I started to tear up because with that one question, I felt seen. I was nervous. Yes, this was my third pregnancy but every delivery is different. The night of my induction, I procrastinated going to the hospital because of my nerves. At 12:30AM, Chris and I went to labor and delivery to start the induction.

Because of the time of my induction, the main hospital doors were no longer open and we had to enter through the emergency room doors. We were scanned and all our bags were searched. (Two hospital bags, my purse, my camera bag.) When we got up to the labor and delivery floor, we could tell they were working with a skeleton crew because it took at least ten minutes for anyone to check us in. When someone did come to enter my information, it was a elderly woman who struggled to type. I was hot, nervous, and getting increasingly anxious so I sat down in a wheel chair for the rest of the intake.

Almost an hour after we arrived, a nurse finally came into the delivery room. She was old and seemed completely clueless to the situation so naturally, my blood pressure started to elevate. She asked, “Why are you in today?” Are you kidding? The BP monitor started to beep. Pointing to the flashing screen I said, “That’s why.” I was hooked up to monitors, my IV was inserted, my temperature was taken, and I was Covid tested. The nurse asked me if I knew how my OB wanted to start the induction. How was I supposed to know? I asked Chris to pull up my blog post about Wells’ delivery. We found that I started with a cervix ripening medication called, Cervidil. The nurse requested this of the resident doctor who then explained to us that they do not use Cervidil anymore. He said we could start on Miso, which I remembered taking with Mills delivery. He inserted the Miso, told me to get a mole examined by a dermatologist, and the contractions started.

Just as I started to dose off, the head nurse came into the room to tell me that my Covid test came back positive. You’ve got to be kidding me. That morning, I felt really tired, dizzy, and anxious but I chalked it up to the hypertension. I remember texting a coworker that I was experiencing my “monthly illness” from the snot-nosed kids that we teach, and she responded, “I hope it’s not Covid, it’s going around again.” That prompted me to take an at-home Covid test, which came back negative and set me at ease. That afternoon, I had an appointment with my OB and I mentioned to him that I was not feeling well. When he checked to see if I was dilated, I almost passed out. I took a nap when I got home and on the way to the hospital, I told Chris that I was feeling much better – praise God because birthing a child is hard enough when you’re healthy. I asked the nurse to give me another Covid test – there’s a chance it could’ve been a false positive, right? She tested me a second time and it also came back positive. My mind was racing; did Millie and Wells get this? Will my in-laws get Covid from watching the kids? Will I have to isolate from the baby? I started to cry. My baby was inside my Covid-positive body and I was going to have to deliver being riddled by the virus.

The nurse reassured me that the treatment I would receive wouldn’t be any different from any other patient because I was Covid positive however, there were protocols and rules the hospital required:

– Anyone entering the room would be in full PPE. Chris and I were encouraged to mask.

– In addition to Chris, I could only have one additional visitor for the duration of my stay; no birth photographer for this delivery, Mill and Wells couldn’t come to the hospital to visit, and I had to chose between my mom and grandma in the delivery room.

– Chris could not leave the room to get ice, water, coffee, etc.

The head nurse told us that 90 percent of women who give birth while Covid positive, do not pass the virus to their newborn; this was reassuring. The baby would be Covid tested during the routine newborn check. She was optimistic that having Covid while pregnant would have given the baby antibodies that would be helpful once they were born. I prayed the baby would not be born with Covid or contract it from me once they were here.

At five am, my cervix was rechecked. The Miso softened my cervix but I hadn’t dilated much more. If time wasn’t an issue, I would’ve had another round of Miso however, my OB was getting on a plane for Chicago that evening and I desperately wanted my OB to be there. He knows my history, calms my anxiety, and he’s great at making sure I don’t tear. The resident doctor was adamant that a balloon foley was our quickest option for further dilation. I was nervous about this method because I had never had it done before. With the balloon foley, I would also have a urine catheter and I knew that would only add to my discomfort. The doctor said he was fine with me getting the epidural before the insertion of both catheters so I wouldn’t have to feel either. I asked, “How long does an epidural last?” It can be effective for 18-24 hours. I needed to have the baby before 6pm if I wanted my OB to deliver so that gave me 12 hours. We had a plan.

A lady entered the room and introduced herself as the CRNA, Certified Registered Nurse Anesthetist. She sat down and asked, “Are you in pain?” To which I replied, “Not yet.” She asked, “Why are we doing this epidural?” This question irritated me. Am I not paying thousands of dollars for this medicine? I went on to explain the rationale. Did she not discuss this with the doctor? She began to talk to me about first time mothers who are afraid of pain – I stopped her and said, “This is my third rodeo. I have given birth without an epidural but this time I am choosing not to. If you’d like to discuss this pain management plan with my doctor…” She changed her tune. “No no no.” She agreed to give me the epidural but told me it was going to be painful because she didn’t have the pains of the contractions to hide it in. I sat up on the side of the bed and prayed to God I wouldn’t be paralyzed.

The CRNA advised me to sit crisscrossed, if it was comfortable, while the epidural was administered. I told her I was an elementary school music teacher and sitting crisscrossed was second nature. Chris stood in front of me to my left and the nurse stood to my right. The numbing needle stung. Then came the pressure. It felt like the needle was tunneling it’s way into my body. We made small talk about her children’s piano lessons and the downtown construction. My right leg jolted out and I almost kicked the nurse. It was taking so long, why was it taking so long? Finally, it was over. A cold trickle ran down my back and within ten minutes, I was completely numb from the waist down.

The nurse inserted the urine catheter and the resident doctor inserted the balloon foley, both of which I couldn’t feel because of the epidural. At 12pm, the nurse tugged on the foley but it did not come out. An hour later, she pulled again, and the ballon popped right out; it was the size of a clementine and it dilated me to 5cms. At 2pm, the doctor broke my water with what looked like a crochet needle. When I couldn’t feel my water break, I began to feel anxious. I wanted the epidural to be less numbing. I felt so helpless; Chris and the nurse had to move my body on the peanut ball because I couldn’t lift my legs. I felt so heavy. The CRNA came in and instructed me that the medicine was working exactly how it should and even though I couldn’t feel my lower half, it was responsive.

My Maw rubbed my legs and Chris scratched my head. It was enough to calm me through the last centimeters of dilation. I told my nurse that I was feeling a lot of pressure in my rear so she checked my cervix and informed me that I was 10cms dilated. I felt glad. I felt ready. Before she called in the doctor, she asked me to do a practice push and as I pushed through my next contraction she said, “Okay, okay. Stop. Stop pushing.” The nurse got on her phone, “Room 105 is ready to push.”

The nurses were like a NASCAR pit crew; raising the bed, turning on the bright lights, gowning the doctor, all in preparation for the birth. I made small talk with my OB about the baby coming before his flight for Chicago. He said, “With your next contraction I want you to push.” I crunched my upper body towards my knees, bared down, and I heard him say, “slow, slow” but I couldn’t stop what was happening. My body was pushing the baby out. In one push, I felt the baby’s body leave mine. The doctor placed the baby on my chest and I heard my Maw ask, “What is it?” The nurse answered, “It’s a boy.” He was crying and soaking wet. “Happy Birthday, baby boy.”

Chris cut the umbilical cord for our third child. I was relieved to hear that I did not tear and my placenta came out in one piece. The nurse told me, “That was the most efficient labor I have ever seen.” My legs were starting to tingle as the epidural started to wear off; I welcomed that feeling over the anxiety I experienced with the numbness. I changed my gown and watched as the nurse examined the baby. The baby’s oxygen rate was low at first but after a minute of an oxygen mask nearby, it went to normal range. Chris was standing over him, talking to him, taking pictures, and telling me how beautiful he was. The nurse stamped the baby’s feet into the baby book. I noticed quickly that he had a gap between his first two toes like his father. The baby weighed 6lbs 9oz. He was brought back to me for skin-to-skin.

This sweet, alert, baby boy latched quickly. He held on tightly to his daddy’s finger. He passed his newborn checks and scored a 9 on the Apgar scale. He tested negative for Covid; thank you, Jesus. He cried while he was given his first bath but once we was all clean, he calmed and we were able to take pictures of him on the hospital bed in the same position as Millie and Wells when they were born. Everything was going perfectly until he lost 12% of his body weight.

After many visits with the lactation consultant, I agreed to supplement his feeding with donor breast milk while my supply was still coming in. I would feed him from the breast and then pump. While I pumped, he was fed the bottle of donor milk. After 24 hours of feeding this way, he gained a little weight back.

I desperately wanted to go home. I missed Millie and Wells like crazy. I also knew my milk supply would increase in the peace of my own space. The doctors were okay with us taking him home as long as we took formula with us as a means of supplementation. We agreed, signed the appropriate papers and headed home to introduce Millie and Wells to their new baby brother, Crosby James.

Baby

Welcoming Wells

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Welcoming Wells

At 33 weeks pregnant with Millie, my OB instructed me to go to labor and delivery. I felt miserable; pounding headaches, swelling to point of discomfort, dizziness and fatigue. I left the OBs office completely unable to accept the reality of induction. Instead of rushing to the hospital, I had my husband take me to Arby’s. As I pumped ketchup onto my tray, a lady grabbing napkins said to me, “If you have a girl and see blood in her diaper, don’t be alarmed, it’s her hormones.” What? Suddenly, I had lost my appetite for ketchup.

33 weeks came and went during my second pregnancy yet, everyday the thought of preeclampsia was a very real concern. I checked my blood pressure with an at-home monitor, I constantly analyzed the size of my ankles, and I actually iced and elevated my feet at night. 34 weeks into my pregnancy, we lost my step-father due to a massive heart attack, just four months after unexpectedly, losing my sister. I was fearful that the grief and stress would throw me into labor but thankfully, the baby stayed put.

37 weeks of pregnancy is considered full term; something I never was able to experience with Millie. I still feel a tinge of guilt for not being able to carry her longer. I was ecstatic to have made it to term with this pregnancy and also surprised I didn’t feel entirely miserable. Don’t get me wrong, the pelvic pressure was painful and sleeping comfortably was a challenge, but life wasn’t completely intolerable; nothing like what 33 weeks pregnant with preeclampsia felt like. My OB said we made it to term because of the daily dose of baby aspirin but I like to think that he was comfortable in my sisters arms, in heaven.

At 37 weeks and 6 days, I started having contractions seven minutes apart. Laying in bed, I would check my phone with each pain; 3:07, 3:14, 3:21. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, I was being woken up by my alarm. As I was getting ready for work, my husband urged me to stay home and call the doctor. Wanting to save my sick time, I went in to teach. During my planning period, I called my OB to tell him I had contractions through the night. He responded, “get to labor and delivery”. I drove home, snuggled with Mill on the couch, and waited for my baby daddy to come home. My husband packed the car, we kissed Millie goodbye, and this time, we didn’t stop for a cherry turnover.

When we arrived at the hospital, we were sent into triage where a nurse took my temperature, blood pressure, checked my lungs and pulse, and she gave me a sani-wipe and cup to collect my urine. As I sat down on the toilet, I opened the wipe and simultaneously, it jumped out of my hands! The wet wipe flew through the air, nearly six feet, before hitting the tile floor! Reactively, I screamed and then I couldn’t stop laughing! My husband and the nurse thought I was crazy but it kept the atmosphere light; labor terrified me after my experience with Mill.

My vitals were normal except my blood pressure, 118 over 96. The nurse explained that the reading was a mistake; the bottom number “didn’t match” the top number. She checked it again; 135 over 95. She seemed concerned that the readings were slightly elevated so she was going to consult the resident doctor on duty. Of course I was stressing thinking that the pre-e had returned but there were no traces of protein in my urine, so that kept me sane. Waiting for my blood pressure to go down, I ate a bag of mini pretzels, watched an episode of Friends (ironically, it was the episode where Rachel and Ross are at the gynecologist), texted my parents, and peed again. The nurse returned, checked my BP, and it was even higher than before! Over and over again, the cuff would squeeze my arm, release the pressure, and I would dauntingly peek at the numbers on the monitor; my blood pressure remained high. The resident doctor, who looked younger than me, asked about my birth plan. I explained to her that if the preeclampsia had returned, I wanted a c-section, which had been discussed numerous times with my OB. She began explaining to me why she would not give me a c-section, even if the pre-e had returned. I stopped her and said, “I know that I am able to elect for a cesarean birth.” I was no longer interested in speaking to this resident. My blood pressure reading was highest after that conversation.

My OB was in the hospital giving a tour to a newly hired doctor in the practice, so he stopped by my room to discuss my, “options”. He told me that he was admitting me for gestational hypertension. He explained that my history with pre-e made him too concerned to send me home with an elevated blood pressure. The doctor informed us that there were risks to induction, especially premature lung development, particularly in boys. A day before Millie was born, a steroid shot was administered into my leg to better develop her lungs. Unfortunately, there is no evidence shows the steroid being effective after 34 weeks of pregnancy, so the shot was not an option this time around. There is a fine line between gestational hypertension and pre-eclampsia and my doctor thought the induction outweighed the risks, given my history. Gestational hypertension is a form of high blood pressure and it occurs in about 6 percent of all pregnancies. Delivery heals the mother from the hypertension.

I was being induced for a vaginal birth, with a c-section as plan B if my blood pressure continued to rise. The doctor promised me that this delivery would be different than my first and that I was being closely monitored. I signed some papers, shoved my underwear into my purse, and tightly held my husbands hand as we left triage. I was full term. This baby spent weeks longer in utero compared to Millie. I’ve done this before; affirmations I told myself walking to labor and delivery.

We started the induction at 4pm with a twelve hour dose of cervadil; a vaginal insert that ripens the cervix. Like a tampon, the medicine is attached to a string. Unlike a tampon, it is placed super far up the vaginal canal (I swear, the nurse was elbow deep). The first four hours on the cervadil were a breeze – mild cramping. My grandma brought Millie to see us before her bedtime. This was the first night that I wasn’t sleeping under the same roof as her. It broke my heart when she didn’t want anything to do with me. She was scared of the machines and my IV.

I was uncomfortable during the next four hours as the contractions grew stronger and closer together. Around 3am, I wanted the epidural but I was only 3cm dilated. The resident OB wanted to wait on ordering the epidural until I dilated further so he offered to give me pain meds through my IV to take off the edge. I urged both him, and the nurse to consult with my doctor because we had discussed this exact situation after my traumatic experience with Millie. I had dilated so quickly with her that I was unable to get the epidural and I did not want that to happen again. Thankfully, they consulted my doctor who approved the epidural.

I gave birth to Millie without an epidural and I was not about to do that again. Although, I was scared that the epidural would hurt, that I would move during insertion and become paralyzed, that it wouldn’t take, or that the baby’s heart rate would drop, I was terrified of another natural labor. I was overwhelmed with the pain from the contractions so I pulled up a video of Millie on my phone, to focus my energy on her pure joy. As I watched, tears rolled down my cheeks; partially due to the pain I was experiencing but also because of my love for her. I was assured that the anesthesiologist was the best they had. He was an older man who talked me through everything he was doing. My husband was asked to wear a mask and a hair cap while the procedure took place. He held my hands as I sat up straight, at the edge of the bed. The medicine felt like a bead of cold water rushing down my spine. I do not remember any pain during insertion. Slowly, my legs started feeling heavy and I knew the epidural had worked.

Pitocin was administered and for the next two hours, 4:30-6:30am, I experienced some mild cramping. The epidural provided great relief to the clinching pain of the earlier contractions. My grandma had joined us in the birthing room. Her presence was calming as she rubbed my legs. My birth photographer, Sarah Shambaugh, arrived and began taking pictures of the process. Around 6:30, it felt like I needed to poop; nothing hurt, I just felt a sense of urgency. I remembered feeling that way before Millie was born and I knew it was time to push. The nurse examined me and sure enough, I was fully effaced and 9.5cm dilated. The nurse called my doctor, who was twelve minutes away. Longest twelve minutes of my life.

I was instructed not to push until my OB arrived. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks in response to the discomfort I was enduring. I told my husband that I didn’t care to wait for my doctor any longer, as long as someone would catch my baby, I needed to start pushing. My bed was raised, nurses helped lift my legs into the stirrups, and a resident doctor began dressing to do the job. In that same moment, my doctor entered the room and prepared for the delivery. I breathed a sigh of relief while grimacing through a contraction.

Pushing was difficult because I couldn’t exactly feel what I was supposed to be doing due to the epidural. I was anxious to push and didn’t like the wait time between contractions. I forced all of my energy down and with every push, the baby moved further through the canal. My doctor was so supportive; using words of encouragement and massaging the tissue so I wouldn’t tear. My father snuck into the room and held up a “little brother” onesie as a means of encouragement. The thought was endearing but I also didn’t want my dad to see my vagina. My husband helped lift my head up towards my chest and my grandma pulled my legs back while I pushed. I could not understand why this labor was taking so long – comparatively to my three push labor with Millie. My OB used his hands to turn the baby’s head in a more opportune position. Impatient, I decided that I didn’t want to wait for the next contraction to start pushing again and that is when the baby progressed enough that my doctor could see the hair on his head. My husband looked – gross. My doctor predicted that the next push would do it; I would meet my son.

Clinched teeth, chin to chest, toes curled; all of the tension released when Wells was born. It is absolutely amazing how exhaustion and pain evaporate away the moment of birth. A wiggly, slime-covered, baby boy was placed on my chest and my entire being began taking him in; he was heavy, he was pink, he had hair, and he was crying. My husband cut the umbilical cord as nurses suctioned fluid from his mouth. We stayed skin-on-skin while my family met him. When it was time to feed him, he latched quickly and correctly, which made nursing simple. While he was on my breast, I felt the bottom of his little feet; so soft.

My sweet, perfect boy. Life may be unpredictable, but my love for you will forever be constant. Welcome to the world, Wells.

Baby

Laboring Love

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Laboring Love

It’s very appropriately called “labor” but some things made it just 0.014x better…

  • My mom drove in from out of town and brought me my favorite childhood stuffed-animal, Max Goof. I didn’t even know that she kept him! It was such a special gift that momentarily took my mind off of the labor ahead.
  • Due to preeclampsia, I was in the hospital for three days before giving birth. I was not able to eat, should an emergency cesarean become necessary. I was able to sip water and eat ice-chips. Yay. My grandmother brought me in a box of Luigi’s Italian Ice and my taste buds had a party! My nurse put my name on the box and kept it in the freezer; I was able to eat cherry and lemon Italian ice as much as I wanted.
  • My husband asked the nurse, “Can she get something to help her sleep? There’s a lot of extra noise in here.” I was given an Ambien and I slept better than I had in months! It was the best “push present” that any pregnant wife could’ve asked for.
  •  I adore my family and friends however, answering all their texts and calls while trying to focus on the task at hand, was not at the top of my priority list. I was incredibly grateful that my husband had my phone and kept everyone informed.
  • The same hospital gowns that people die in, are given to you to wear when you birth your baby. Ew. I bought a Gownies set from Baby Be Mine and I’m so glad that I did. I was happy with how they fit and felt, they smelled like home, and I liked how I looked!
  • There can be a lot of smells permeating in a hospital. When we were admitted into the labor and delivery room, we used our humidifier with drops of on-guard oil; cleaning the air. Next, we used balance to help with the atmosphere of the birthing space. So many nurses complimented us on our use of essential oils. One nurse, who wasn’t even mine, came into the room because she smelled a “spa aroma” from the hall!
  • My sister flew in from out of town for the birth. She braided my hair for me before I went into active labor. She also took videos on her phone, before and after Millie was born. At the time, it seemed pretty silly. Now that Millie is three months old, we cherish those videos. Our conversations, the doctor checks, how small she was, and the sound of her cry, won’t be forgotten.
  • Water-proof mascara and chapstick.
  • Hospital resources – use them. I used many snap-ice cold packs on the back of my neck, forehead, and in my underwear after giving birth; these are way better than a wet washcloth. The supplied water jug is still my best friend – if you are planning to breastfeed, this will become your lifeline. The large, mesh underwear – no shame, I packed ten pairs to take home and wore them for the next two weeks. The huge pads. During recovery, the hospital provided a plastic squirt bottle that could spray warm water after using the bathroom; trust me, you don’t want to be using toilet paper down there for a while. I received a bottle for every bathroom in my house. Another relief was witch-hazel pads. I made some of my own once I was home and added some lavender oil for extra soothing.
  • Because we were sent to the hospital at 34 weeks, my house had not been properly cleaned for a new baby. My family cleaned my house until it sparkled while I was in the hospital. It was such a relief knowing I was bringing the baby into a clean home.

No doubt — giving birth is laborious, but there is not a mom out there who doesn’t recognize it as a labor of love.

What made labor 0.014x better for you?

Baby

Magnesium – Miso – Motherhood

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Magnesium – Miso – Motherhood

“Did you have a difficult day at work?” the nurse asked upon taking my blood pressure. Teaching elementary music was never a breeze however, that day in particular, was fine. (Meaning my blood pressure had no business being 149/99.) She told me to relax, take a couple deep breaths, and she’d try to take it again – of course by then I was freaking out; why was my blood pressure so high?! My doctor came into the room and told me that they found traces of protein in my urine, I had significant swelling in my legs and ankles, and that I had gained too much weight since my last visit. Preeclampsia. I had heard of it but I never thought that it was something that I would suffer from. So many thoughts were racing around in my head; Isn’t preeclampsia rare? Don’t you have to be obese to get it? Has anyone in my family ever had preeclampsia? What’s going to happen to my baby? What’s going to happen to me? AH! My head was pounding; yet another symptom of preeclampsia.

I was instructed to take the next day off of work, to collect my urine for twenty-four hours, and to try to relax. I would go back to the OB’s office the next day for a blood pressure check and an ultrasound. I did as I was told; laid on the couch watching Netflix, drank plenty of water, and I had a decent nights sleep considering my bladder was being used as a trampoline. I hated having to take a day off of work for, “bed rest” but I knew it was necessary for both mine and the baby’s health. The next day, my husband and I were flabbergasted upon hearing that my blood pressure was even higher than the day before! The ultrasound showed that the baby was head-down and I was told to go to the hospital. My doctor apologized for not having me go the night before; he truly thought my blood pressure would lower. I felt fine other than being very pregnant and a lingering headache that wasn’t fading.

The nursery had been completed before the end of my first trimester and our hospital bags had been packed by the end of the second. My extreme nesting and “over preparedness” made my friends laugh and annoyed my husband however, it turned out to be a blessing considering we were on our way to the hospital during week 34 of my pregnancy. 160/114 was my blood pressure reading in triage. Those numbers were too high and the doctor was concerned that I would seize. I felt scared and wanted to go home but the doctor was not going to let me leave without signing an AMA, against medical advice document. Realizing that even at home my blood pressure wasn’t under control, I agreed to being admitted into labor and delivery.

I was placed in a beautiful, spacious room however, the television screen was smaller than that of my laptop and the static on every channel was awful. Watching college football was near impossible and it did nothing but raise my blood pressure. OSU losing to Iowa; embarrassing. Even worse, the nurses informed me that my blood pressure had been spiking through my sleep. The high-risk doctor gave the orders; the only way to stop the preeclampsia symptoms was to deliver the baby. The delivery-plan that I took so much time creating was now thrown out the window.

Because the baby was going to be born early, I was given two steroid shots in my theigh to help her lungs develop, ouch. The incredibly nice NICU doctor verbally prepared us for the worst; I was devastated hearing that after delivery, I may have to leave the hospital without my baby. I felt so guilty and defeated; my body was failing her. To keep my blood pressure down, I was given magnesium through my wrist IV. The nurse told me that I would be extremely weak on this medicine and I may experience flu-like symptoms. I had to be catheterized (which was not a pleasant experience) because I was not able to get out of bed while on the mag. How was I supposed to move through my contractions if I was immobile on this medication? Having the catheter in was awful – I felt like I had to pee constantly; there was no relief. Worser still, the swelling that I experienced was unfathomable. I was scalding hot; I thought my skin was going to burst open like an overcooked hot dog. I had a splitting headache that would not quit. I asked my nurse, “How am I supposed to deliver this baby, the hardest thing that my body has ever experienced, when I am so weak and can’t move?” She simply said, “You’ll do it.”

I was given two rounds of cervidil; a cervix ripening insert. During this time, I was getting checked for dilation frequently – let me tell you, that starts to feel incredibly uncomfortable too; raw, like pulling out a dry tampon over and over again. I didn’t dilate on the cervidil however, the doctor wasn’t surprised because this was six weeks before the baby was supposed to arrive and my body was not responding. We started miso through the night, another induction insert, which dilated me to 1cm and “a wiggle”. My husband and I prayed with such intensity; we were so conflicted – happy that our baby was coming however, we knew there was a rough road ahead. I told the nurse that it felt like I was peeing on my leg, I knew that couldn’t be the case but I was feeling a secretion of fluid. She did another dilation check and my water broke all over the nurse’s arm. The water was warm and there was a lot of it. I felt a tinge of embarrassment but I was so relieved that it broke on its own; talks of ballooning and other induction mechanisms terrified me. After my water broke, I was given pitocin, level 10 and the real contractions began.

During my pregnancy, My husband and I took a labor course where the midwife explained the pain during active labor. She instructed that if you could power through seven centimeters of dilation, you were two hours away from seeing your baby – no pain medicine needed. I wanted to try to deliver my baby without pain medication. During my contractions I just kept thinking, when the pain gets worse, I will ask for the epidural. I focused “down”; that might not make a lot of sense but visualizing what was happening internally, helped. I reminded myself of positive affirmations; “My body is capable and strong. I’m choosing to be calm and confident during my baby’s birth.” We had a humidifier in the room, releasing essential oils (dōTERRA’s balance). I listened to my birthing playlist, which consisted of instrumental Christian music (After All These Years – Bethel Music). Ice chips. Even though my body was weak from the magnesium, I was somehow still able to move around in the bed to position myself through the contractions; on my side, grabbing the bed frame, leaning over, etc. After two hours of active labor, I felt a burning like I had never felt before. Was I on fire? I began to shake uncontrollably. It felt like my butt cheeks were being ripped apart and I wanted to literally crawl out of my skin. I knew the Lord had not forsaken me however, I knew something was happening and I was terrified. I wanted that epidural – NOW!

The nurse said, “Let’s hope that you’re more than three centimeters dilated.” as she checked my cervix. This is what three centimeters feels like?! She turned around and got on the phone; my husband was speaking very intently, “What’s wrong, tell us what’s going on?!” The nurse was dialing the doctor as I was more than 9cm dilated and it was time to push. I had gone from 1-9cm’s in two hours time. The bed raised up, the catheter came out, the room got brighter, and the doctor came in with a shield up and goggles on. It became clear that I was not getting any pain medicine.

The contractions were so long, I couldn’t possibly push that long! How could I focus on pushing when my body was set on fire? The shaking continued and it’s possible that I occasionally blacked out. My first push wasn’t nearly long enough – I could feel the baby’s body in the birth canal. During my second push, the baby had come down and went back up; I know this not only because the doctor told me, but because when you don’t have any numbing medicine, you feel everything. I just knew that my legs had ripped from my hips. The third push happened in slow motion; baby’s head, shoulders, hips; I felt it all. The doctor placed a wide-eyed, powder-blue baby upon my chest. She started to cry and I told her, “happy birthday”. I didn’t recognize my voice; it was horse from the hours of screaming out in pain. My husband was in awe and he cut the umbilical cord. Everything else didn’t matter; the after-birth, the cramping and discomfort, the stitching – Amelia Jane was born and the earth stood still.