I think the hardest part about having kids at home during a full term pregnancy is just the uncertainty of when the baby is coming. Thankfully we have a wonderful family and support system. The problem is that system is located two hours away.
I began having contractions in the early hours of December 11. I texted my Mom and had her make the two hour journey to our house that morning. I continued to have light contractions throughout the day, but they eventually dwindled down to nothing by the end of the night. My parents took the kids home for the weekend thinking that some relaxation might help get things going. Our biggest accomplishment was that we wrapped all of the Christmas presents and went to a movie for the first time in some five years (Hunger Games). At around 8:30 pm December 15 (my due date) I had a few contractions. Reluctantly, I called my Mom and asked her to come over that night so that I didn't have to call her in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, nothing ever came of those contractions either! On Tuesday, December 16 at my 3:30 pm appointment my midwife checked me and indicated that I was 3 cm dilated and 90% effaced. She stripped my membranes, and I began having contractions almost immediately. We had a quick ultrasound and non stress test to make sure baby was doing well.
We went to Smashburger for a spicy jalapeno burger around 6:30 pm hoping that might get things moving. While we were there I began having some stronger and more regular contractions that continued through the night. When we got home I did some laundry and Paul and I watched a movie. I insisted on matching every pair of socks. You know, otherwise the baby wouldn't come. I sat on the balance ball and took a bath. By 10:00 pm the contractions were so strong and were pretty consistently 5-6 minutes apart. By midnight I was starting to feel nervous that I was getting very far along in the labor and I suggested we go to the hospital. When we got to triage I told the nurse she might want to check me, because I thought I was probably a good 7-8 cm by the strength of the contractions. You can imagine my shock and horror when she informed me that I was only 4 cm!!! I was in so much pain, yet had only dilated 1 cm! I wanted to kick her in her smug face.
We were admitted immediately, which was nice. My nurse, Megan, did a 20 minute monitor on the baby while the midwife prepared the room for delivery and drew me a bath. I was in a shitty mood from being told I was only 4 cm. I felt a little embarrassed for going into the hospital and also a little weak for thinking things hurt so incredibly bad. I hopped in the bath at 2:00 am and was allowed one hour without monitors. The contractions I had for the 45 minutes I was in the tub were not nearly as bad as my stupid labor from 3-4 cm. I was feeling defeated and I told the midwife I'd like her to check me and if I wasn't dilated I would possibly have her break my water to get things moving. When she checked me she asked "well, how far along did you want to be? You are 9.0 cm!" She suggested we break the water and have a baby! I dilated from 4 to 9 in 45 minutes. I got out of that tub, like "fucking right." I wanted to mean mug that triage nurse.
I got out of the tub and situated myself on the hospital bed. For me, pushing is always the most dreadful part. Although I have to say that I didn't enjoy the labor much at all this time around. I wouldn't say it was my most painful, but this time I was really focused on the pain and was very fearful of pushing. Anyway, my midwife broke my water. Thankfully, the water was clear with no meconium. Shortly after that I had a contraction and she told me to practice pushing. I gave her three little baby pushes. I didn't need "practice" pushing. I mean, this wasn't my first rodeo. I knew that the minute I started to actually push that baby was going to actually come out. I decided that the next contraction would be "the one."
I prepared myself for what was to come, and as soon as the contraction started to began to push. I pushed for three 8 counts. I thought I would stop after the third, but then all of a sudden the urge to push took over my body. I screamed out "OH NO!!" and pushed with all of my being. The midwife said "The head is crowning. Slow down, Cas-, nurse get the-, Paul come-, the head is out, OH! there's the baby!" And just like that, the baby literally shot right out of me. She flipped the baby over so we could see that we had a baby BOY! She handed him to me and I put him right on my chest. It was 3:20 am.
He cried a little, but not much. He was very comfortable sitting right on my chest. She waited until the umbilical cord stopped pulsing and then Paul cut the cord. After that the really hard work started. They say you forget how painful it is to have a baby, but honestly, I never forget. I know it is painful. What I do always forget is how fucking horrible the after birth is. Because I push my kids out in a single contraction I always tear. This time I had a 2nd degree tear. The numbing shots hurt because the area is so tender and you can still feel a ton of pain during the actual stitching. This was by far the worst after birth of them yet, because I hemorrhaged immediately after giving birth. It was actually quite scary. I had to have a shot of Pitocin in my leg to get the contractions going, which didn't seem to work. The midwife had one hand basically scooping me out from the inside and the other hand shoving as hard as she possibly could on my stomach to get my uterus to contract. I cried out in pain the entire time. It was absolutely worse than the entire labor and pushing combined. It took at least 45 minutes to get the after birth resolved. I was shaking so bad and I felt like I was going to pass out.
When it was over everyone left the room and it was just me, Paul, and our new son. I breastfed him for about 30 minutes. After that the nurse returned and gave the baby his first bath and took his stats. He was 7 lbs 7 oz and 21 inches long. It was so nice to be able to hold him for so long before any of that took place. Chloe and Abram were taken from me right away to be cleaned up and weighed while I handled the after birth.
When the nurse left the room again we began to talk about names. The only boy name I had picked out was Jude Paul. Paul kept calling him Jude to see if we liked it, but I kept thinking he was saying "Jew" so we quickly decided against the name. For a brief moment in the delivery room we picked the name Lucas, but when Paul searched for the name's popularity he found it as #1 on the BabyCenter list for 2014. In fact, one nurse asked what we were thinking for a name and when we said Lucas a cafeteria worker happened to walk in and said "Girl, everybody be pickin that name lately!" Haha. We quickly decided against that name, too. We went to the recovery room without a name. The baby slept for 7 hours before he would wake up to eat again. We were all so tired!
The next morning Paul was perusing baby names on his phone when he suggested the name Emmett. I thought about it for a moment and said "I actually don't hate it." We tried it out for a few hours before the kids got there. My Mom brought Chloe and Abram up to the room and we asked them if they liked the name Emmett. Abram said right away, "Yes, this my brother Emmett." He said the name so clearly and so proudly that we decided that was definitely the name. It was so cute! He went to preschool later that day and told everyone about his baby brother, Emmett. We spent the next day discussing middle names and eventually decided to name him Emmett Paul.
For a few weeks I felt a little unsure of the name. We kept calling him "the baby." But as I finish this post 8 months later I can't see him as a Tyler or Jude or Lucas. He is an Emmett through and through. My perfect little sweet little baby boy, Emmett!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment