My 3rd epidural-free birth, my 2nd elective induction, and my 1st pandemic baby
2020 was an...interesting (wild? weird? unprecedented? frustrating? scary? exhausting?) year for everyone, right? It made several groups of people extremely pitiable from the immunocompromised to those who lost loved ones to overwhelmed medical care workers...but I had a particular ache in my heart for the laboring mamas giving birth in spring 2020. To go from anticipating and planning for one of the most vulnerable, intense, somewhat terrifying days of their life to suddenly having huge anchors of support and comfort stripped away such as birthing teams and added stressors like being masked throughout labor...such an unimaginable nightmare. 😭Hugs to every mom that had to endure that traumatic craziness. (And to all the ones still having to endure it. 😣)
I got pregnant with Emmy, our second child, when Ella, our first, was just about 18 months old and we were very happy with the spacing between them. With Emmy turning one in March of 2020 at the very onset of the Covid madness, we weren't planning on getting pregnant again anytime soon...and with the entire world being turned upside down, it became an even bigger certainty that we had no desire to imminently plan for another baby.
But, fast forward to the fall, as Emmy was now rapidly approaching turning 18 months old, I couldn't help but think about how if I didn't get pregnant by the end of the year we would be dealing with a bigger age gap if we were to have any more children. There wasn't anything particularly wrong with that...it just got stuck in my head and made me sad because I really enjoyed the 28 months between my 2 daughters...everything from feeling like my body had had an adequate amount of time to heal between pregnancies to not feeling like I had 2 infants at the same time but they soon caught up with each other and grew closer relatively quickly. The end of summer and early fall months had me routinely buying pregnancy tests "just to check" but month after month, even after squinting at several potential second lines, I would begin another month not pregnant. As November rolled around I calculated that if I did not get pregnant that month we would for sure have a larger age gap than 28 months between Emmy and a new baby. My husband and I didn't intentionally do anything different, I didn't get my hopes up, and we really didn't even discuss the thoughts I had been having the past few months.
In fact, Ella was turning 4 on November 15th and, as is usual for me, my time was pretty consumed with getting her birthday party ready so I wasn't devoting near as much thought to a pregnancy as I had been whatsoever. The week of her birthday we were on a family walk before bedtime and as she looked up at the sky full of bright twinkling stars she gasped, pointed to an especially sparkly one and exclaimed "See that wishing star?! It's the very brightest one! You know what I'm going to wish for? I'm wishing for a new baby!" Trevor and I kinda laughed and looked at each other with the same expression of, "Wouldn't that be crazy if..."
The next week, on the 21st, I was supposed to be shooting the wedding of our friend and Trevor's employee Chris and his fiancé Hailey. I also (TMI? This is a birth story post so I'm gonna say no 😂) was due to start my period that day. I had a bulk package of cheap pregnancy tests in my cabinet that I had been using the past few months that I had whittled down to about 5. I hadn't really intended on taking one (because I hadn't had any symptoms to imply that I needed to) but I randomly had the thought the day before the wedding that maybe I should take one so I would know if I needed to pack pads in my camera bag or not. 😆I mean, in theory, if it was negative I would go ahead and pack them just in case but if it was positive I wouldn't need to. So at 8am on November 20th I found myself hovering over a test strip, hard blinking at what appeared to be a faint second line developing. "Here we go again..." I pessimistically thought and instead of waiting for any more time to pass I went straight for the "big guns" and dug around in the back of my cabinet to find the last random digital pregnancy test I had left from a box of 3 so I could just go ahead and know for sure. I sat there waiting as the little clock on the test blinked. I started to feel ridiculous for "wasting" an expensive test on what was sure to be a negative result but then suddenly the 3 minute wait time was up and a very unexpected "Yes+" popped up on the screen. I immediately lost my breath, burst into tears of happy shock, and began shaking. (Fear and "what the heck are we doing" thoughts would flood in later but in that instant there was simply happiness for the beauty and wonder of new life. ❤️)
Ella was the first to know after me and she was so heart-burstingly thrilled when I told her "her wish had come true." 😭
I quickly dressed Emmy in the "Big Sister" shirt that we had originally bought for Ella 2 years prior and waited for Trevor to notice. She came up to him sitting at the dining room table and he said "Oh wow" about 10 times in a row followed by putting his head in his hands and saying "Oh. my. goodness." 😂 He was excited and very glad...but 3 kids is a lot to take in, y'all. 😉
Thankfully the wedding went smoothly the next day as I was much too early to have any symptoms to hinder me and Chris and Hailey were so sweetly elated for us when I told them right after their adorable first look.
Now a few weeks later? That's a different story. My usual bout of hyperemesis gravidarum hit hard and I spent the holidays losing weight and looking perpetually green. We had our first ultrasound just days before Christmas and Ella saw the umbilical cord and was hilariously convinced that we were having a baby mouse. 🐭
By the end of January Trevor was chomping at the bits to know if we were continuing our girl gang or if we had "finally" made a son. I had an appointment at my OBGYN office for the end of February or very beginning of March to have an anatomy scan and find out baby's gender but he couldn't stand to wait that long so he called up a little local obstetrics clinic he works for and asked if they could do a quick ultrasound for us when I was just barely 14 weeks along. The technician told us not to tell anyone since I was still so early and the margin of error was pretty substantial at that point...but after looking for several minutes she was pretty sure she was looking at our 3rd baby girl. Spoiler alert...when we went in for that official anatomy scan several weeks later, her guesstimate was confirmed. THREE! GIRLS!
The rest of my pregnancy sailed along smoothly...the appointments in masks were annoying but became more normal and there was at least a little bit of hope that surely by July I wouldn't have to birth alone. Trevor was slightly worried about having to be my only companion because birth absolutely terrifies him but I was just glad I would most likely not have to be alone. (Though I was fervently praying that things would miraculously change in time and my mom would also get to be with me. She was such a huge part of my other births that it was unthinkably painful just imagining her not being there this time.)I had my last ultrasound just before 36 weeks and baby looked perfect. I did notice that her umbilical cord was all bundled up in front of her and near to her face. That made me slightly nervous but the technician assured me that it was very common and nothing to worry about. "See, she's actually sucking on the cord a little bit!" She said laughing and pointing to a section of the screen. I had certainly never heard of that being a thing. 😂"This baby is definitely head down...and, my goodness, so low! Do you just feel her...about to fall out of you?" Thankfully I did not. 🤪But I was relieved to hear that she was still head down...of course she had been that way since 20 weeks so it wasn't a huge surprise but still a relief to not have to worry about her being breech. She also estimated that baby weighed about 5lb. 13 oz. "What size were your other babies?" She asked. I told her my first was right at 8 pounds and my second was just about 7 and a half. She nodded and said, "Yep! Looks like you're right on track! With the amount of time you have left, this baby should be just about the same size as your others." 👀
As I swiftly neared the end of my pregnancy I dreaded being largely pregnant in the smack dab middle of a Louisiana summer but the Lord was very gracious and the temperatures remained fairly mild (for a southern summer that is. Don't get me wrong, it was still very hot and I had a few outings that I uncomfortably waddled and sweated through but overall it was seemingly less miserable than usual for which I was grateful.) I also felt that I was far less impatient compared to how I got at the end of my pregnancy with Emmy. Because I had had Ella 9 days early, the second time around I became obsessively set on the idea that I would of course have Emmy early too. Needless to say, with every day that passed after 38 weeks 5 days I grew a little more crazed and furious and downright DONE. 😆I ate an obscene amount of dates for lunch everyday, gorged myself with pineapple, drowned in Red Raspberry Leaf Tea, walked mile after mile and endlessly bounced on my birth ball. When my doctor offered me an induction at 39 weeks 5 days I hardly thought twice about it because I was so ready. But this time as the weeks clicked off, I was much more at ease knowing it would all happen when God perfectly intended and I sought to fully enjoy my two girls knowing that adding a newborn to our mix would drastically change everything overnight. My doctor checked my cervix at every weekly appointment starting just before 36 weeks and I was a fingertip/tight 1cm dilated and 50% effaced the first time...and every week after that. I remember any lack of progression utterly devastating me at the end of Emmy's pregnancy but this time I knew that as a third time mom, things were completely unpredictable and progression could literally happen within hours and perhaps wouldn't happen early, gradually, and consistently like it had in the weeks before I had Ella. And at my 37 week appointment my doctor let me know that the hospital policy had loosened enough that I would be able to have Trevor and my mom in the delivery room with me. PRAISE THE LORD!😭🎉
This time I drank red raspberry leaf tea as often as I could remember but didn't stress if I didn't get in my 4-6 cups a day...and that's about the only preparation I did. I didn't even begin getting my hospital bag packed until 38 weeks 2 days and I told Trevor he better go buy her a carseat because we didn't have that either. 😬My mom had been saying she wanted to take me to get a pedicure sometime before baby arrived like we aways do and I suddenly felt like we needed to do it sooner rather than later so we went the very next day. We also brought Ella for her very first nail salon experience and it was such a sweet memory to make with her. She was totally mesmerized and had such a blast...I loved watching her experiencing it all. That evening I actually started having some contractions that seemed different than just Braxton Hicks and I wondered if the whole "a pedicure can put you into labor" phenomenon might be happening. But I was able to fall asleep and nothing else consistent happened.
July 20th: However the next day I woke up sooo nauseous and started to feel contractions at 9am and this time they did feel pretty consistent...or at least frequent. Between the contractions, the nausea, and the fact that I had been "cleaning out" for several days (again, birth story pass for the TMI 😝) everything seemed to be adding up to this perhaps being something real. Around noon I estimated that the contractions were coming anywhere from 7-10 minutes apart...maybe even a few happening 5 minutes apart. But there's something about caring for a 4 and 2 year old while 9 months pregnant that makes focusing enough to accurately time contractions a little difficult. 😆I got Emmy down for a nap just before 2:00 and texted my mom "Just got Emmy down for a nap in case this keeps intensifying. Still contracting. Very much. A lot. Haven't been able to focus on timing them with both girls awake." She texted back "Would you like me to come over? Or are you just going to try and rest while Emmy naps?" I am usually so prone to denying help not wanting to put anyone out but in that moment I knew I needed someone with me because I didn't want to spontaneously and accidentally go into labor on our upstairs couch while Ella watched a movie. 😆So I texted back "Do you think you can? I don't like being here alone feeling this uncertain about what's going on. It may not be *it* but it doesn't seem to be nothing if that makes sense. It's definitely not ignorable." She said "Of course I can. Packing my bag in case we decide to head to the hospital and Daddy is on standby to come keep the girls if we leave."
I'm so glad she came because I was instantly able to relax and have her confirm with every contraction that "Yes. Your whole stomach is tight...you're having one. Mark it down." You'd think it being my 3rd time would eliminate a good bit of doubt in this area but no matter how many times you experience them, it truly is hard to differentiate between a false alarm and the real deal. I also had my water break at the beginning of labor before having hard contractions when I had Ella and I was induced with Emmy so I didn't have much of a reference for what basing a decision to head to the hospital solely on the intensity of contractions is like. After 2 full hours of tracking contractions that appeared to be lasting a minute to a minute and a half coming every 4-5 minutes apart my mom suggested I go ahead and call the hospital and get their opinion on what I should do. I was on hold for a while but finally got ahold of someone that suggested I go ahead and come in to Labor and Delivery because, with it being my 3rd birth, things could intensify and happen quickly and I didn't really need to hang around and wait. And if I came in and it was a false alarm, no harm no foul. So I went ahead and threw in all the last minute items into my hospital bag...had Trevor come home and pack his whole bag which he still hadn't done. 😂We hadn't gotten the car seat yet so that would just have to be something someone did for us and have it brought to the hospital later. I felt pretty scattered and a little panicky at the thought of us leaving for real and not coming back without a baby but I tried to stay calm and not forget anything. My mom decided to stay with the girls until we confirmed that I was truly in active labor before she came up there too. Finally at 4:30, Trevor and I were ready to head out.
When we got to Labor and Delivery it was eerily quiet and we soon found out my doctor was not on call. I instantly froze and filled with a sense of dread...I hadn't once considered the possibility of going into labor on a day when my doctor was not available and having to give birth with someone else. I knew that the whole team of doctors were highly rated and they all trusted one another and so I would've been perfectly fine in anyone's hands...but when you've built a relationship throughout an entire pregnancy with someone, having chosen them intentionally and specifically with your birth in mind (and, in this case, I had spent 2 pregnancies with her and had a wonderful experience with her delivering Emmy) the thought of having to have someone else at the very climax of such a long journey is just disappointing. I tried not to think too much about it as they got me into a triage room, had me get into a hospital gown, and hooked me up to the heart and contraction monitors. A nurse came in and checked me for effacement and dilation and said I was maybe at 2cm...but more like a 1 and still only 50-60% effaced...meaning that, even with all the contractions I had been feeling, it didn't appear that I had progressed at all since my last appointment 5 days prior. She said since the monitor was registering that I was having multiplle contractions, they'd keep me for an hour or 2 and if I progressed then I would be staying. Long story short...at the end of those 2 hours, nothing had changed and they said I appeared to be in latent labor. (Basically the very beginning stages of labor when the cervix begins to soften and thin in preparation for dilating. During this time moms have contractions which may be irregular and vary in frequency, strength, and length. This stage can last anywhere from a matter of hours to days...sometimes even weeks for some mamas. 😬It tends to be longer for first time moms but there is literally no guarantee how long it will last either way.)
They went ahead and discharged me and I was actually very relieved. I hadn't eaten lunch because I'd been so nauseated which meant by the time we got out at 7 PM I was starving and I'd been worrying that if they did keep me, I wouldn't be able to eat and would be miserably hungry the whole time. I also got to take a bath and enjoy sleeping in my own bed. Hallelujah! 🎉Not only was I very glad to have another chance to hopefully make it to a day when my doctor was on call but I was also thankful we had our hospital bags officially packed and ready to go so we wouldn't be so stressed when the real deal happened.
July 21st: The next day was (slightly disappointingly) uneventful. No increase or change in contractions worth mentioning and really no other symptoms other than what appeared to be quite a bit of bloody show...but that I just attributed to having been checked twice the day before. I spent the day just trying to relax and not overthink anything...swayed on my birth ball some. That night after I got the girls to bed I had a few contractions right as I was getting into bed around midnight that I had to breathe through and I randomly got shaky like I was chilled but I didn't feel cold...which I know can be a sign of labor due to adrenaline. But I also knew that active labor would wake me up or keep me from sleeping at all so I didn't try to stay up and track anything. I just let Trevor and my mom know before I fell asleep.
July 22nd: I had my 39 week appointment with my doctor first thing the next morning (at 38 weeks 6 days.) In a way I was glad to have made it to that appointment so I could have her check me, consult with her about how things were going after a very confusing week, and to find out when she would be on call. She checked me and said she wouldn't even call me 2cm...still barely a 1.5 in her opinion and no more effaced. "So continue to just wait it out?" I asked. She nodded and basically said what I already knew, "Things could start up at anytime or you may be a week out. There's nothing indicating one or the other at this point and by the time you're on your third baby...things are far less predictable. But I will let you know that I am going out of town after my clinic appointments tomorrow and won't be on call again until the end of next week." Suddenly my calm resolve to just continue to "wait things out" was halted. There was a full moon coming up (while she was out of town) and I fully believe a full moon assisted in putting me into labor with Ella. "Sooo...I would just deliver with whoever is on call if I go into labor sometime this next week?" I asked sheepishly. "Yes, but my associates are all wonderful! You can't go wrong with any of them!" I quietly nodded and sighed, "I know...just would love for you to be there." She laughed and said, "Oh I definitely hope I'm the one to deliver her!! I would hate to miss it!! Hmmm...you know what, I think there may be one induction slot open if you want to have her tomorrow while I'm in the office." I had instant déjà vu of the day she had asked me the same question about having an induction with Emmy. I wasn't as impatiently ready as I had been that day but I had had such a positive induction experience that it was hard to find any reason to say no. I had slight concerns because I would only be 39 weeks on the dot (I had been 39 weeks 5 days when induced with Emmy) and I also wasn't as dilated or effaced as I had been then either. She assured me that she felt strongly that neither of those facts would negatively effect anything and since I had had 2 great, relatively quick labors including one very successful induction already and this being my 3rd baby in less than 5 years my body should have no problems. She even went so far as to predict that baby would be here by the next morning. "You can come in tonight at 10pm, they'll start you on a small dose of Pitocin around midnight...keeping it next to nothing so you don't have the baby before I get here at 7! Then we'll raise it up some, I'll break your water, and we should have a baby soon after!" I fully trusted her because my experience with Emmy had gone so well and everything she had predicted then had been pretty spot on. I called Trevor and he said "Go for it." And, just like before, she said, "Listen, I'll put you on the books just so you don't lose the spot and at any point today if you feel like its the wrong choice for you, just call and cancel." I had had Emmy in 6 hours from start of Pitocin to her birth, had only gotten up to 10ml of pit by the time she arrived so I assumed I was in for a possibly even smoother and quicker experience this go around. I had already done all the brainwork last time in finding the positive aspects of choosing an induction, not the least of which was being able to fully know that it was my last day before having a baby allowing me to calmly make arrangements for my other girls instead of being caught off guard who knows when, having to leave them at a moment's notice, possibly in visible pain which might scare them. My parents could make arrangements for my grandmother who lives with them. Trevor could know not to make any work appointments far enough away to make it difficult for him to get home quickly. I would for sure be delivering with my doctor. AND! On top of all of that! Our governor was scheduled to do a huge press conference thing the next afternoon and according to a statement he had made earlier in the week about his frustration about the Covid-19 numbers quickly rising in our state, he had strongly implied that he would be implementing new mandates that would potentially send the hospital back into lockdown and heavy restrictions. I had come all this way unsure of how hospital policies would be effecting this birth, I had finally gotten the amazing news that Trevor and my mom could both be with me and I wouldn't have to labor in a mask and now that could all change in an instant if I was to wait to go into labor on my own after his mandates were in place. And perhaps the most superficial reason of all, I had both my girls on the 15th (of November and of March) and I had been saying that I wish I could have this baby on July 23rd or 27th so she'd at least "share a day" with me or Trevor (with our birthdays being May 23rd and 27th.) And of course, the next day was Friday, July 23rd so...basically for sure meant to be, right? 😂
So I came home, loved on my babies and vacillated between panic and excitement that I was having a baby TOMORROW. I put Emmy down for a nap, watched a movie and snuggled with Ella...just soaking up our regular mundane routine that was suddenly full of several "lasts" before baby sister.
Trevor had been gone all day at an appointment 45 minutes away and finally ran by Sam's on his way home and bought a carseat. I made chicken pot pie for dinner, happy to fill my belly with hearty comforting goodness as a last meal before the huge feat of the next day.
My parents came over to help me get the girls packed for the next few days and finish up any last minute things. My dad sacrificially dedicated himself to getting the carseat installed which actually took SO LONG setting it up for a newborn. As the hours clicked on and 10 o'clock inched closer and closer I got so nervous and a little weepy. I sat down because I could feel myself getting tense and tired (neither thing you want to be when preparing to have a baby.) Ella noticed the tears welling up in my eyes and came close to me, her face full of concern. I tried to tell her I was okay but instead all I managed to choke out was a very quiet, "I'm a little scared." She gasped and jumped into my lap and put her arms around my neck looking right into my eyes. "Oh mom! Don't be scared! There's nothing to be afraid of! You know, sometimes we think something is going to be really scary but then when we do it, it's actually fun and not scary at all. Like when you told me we were going to that nail salon? I was a little afraid before we left our house because I didn't know what it would be like. But then we got there and I had the best time! Remember how good of a time we had together that day? You know what you can do...if you start to have scared feelings just try to have good thoughts. Like remembering our good days together. Like when Sissy had her Sesame Street party and was so happy. Or when I found out your baby was my new sister and I was so excited." (She was looking over at our refrigerator while saying those things where Emmy's 2nd birthday party invitation is still hanging up along with the polaroid picture of her holding a "little sister" onesie from the day we found out baby's gender.) I was totally sobbing at this point, completely in love with her tender heart doing her absolute best to cheer me up and calm me down. It was the most precious, beautiful moment that I will never ever forget. Soon after, it was time for us to load up and head to the hospital. My parents took the girls home with them (but not before Emmy gave me a big kiss and hug and sang me "You Are My Sunshine." 🥺)
We got to the hospital, got settled into our room...I got into my Kindred Bravely delivery gown my mother-in-law had bought me for my birthday. I hadn't tried it on yet but was instantly so glad I had asked for it because it was a million times more comfortable than a hospital gown (and way cuter too.😉)
I soon realized I had left my pillow at home. I uncomfortably shifted on the thin and crinkly hospital pillow, shooting sad puppy dog eyes at Trevor until he caved and ran back to our house to get it. (Thankfully we live less than 10 minutes away.) By 11 they had my I.V. fluids started and said they'd get the pitocin running by midnight.
At 12:15 my nurse came in to check me (2cm and 70% effaced -- whattaya know, progress since my appointment that morning!) and was asking me about my previous births. When I gave her the rundown of them (11 hours with my first, 9 days early and a 6 hour induction with my second 2 days early where I legendarily progressed from 6cm to ready to push after a 30 minute nap. 😆) Her eyes widened as she listened and then she said, "Ok, Dr. McLemore wasn't kidding when she said keep the pitocin low tonight so nothing happens until she gets here tomorrow. Normally we would increase the pitocin slightly every hour but I'm keeping you at 1ml all night!" She got the pit started and the blood pressure cuff onto me. "You're free to sleep but just know the machine will check your blood pressure every 15 minutes or so because pitocin can cause your BP to spike." This wasn't very pleasant or conducive for sleeping...especially knowing my blood pressure runs notoriously low even when I am pregnant or in labor but I did my best to get comfortable. Having my own pillow helped. 😏
The nurse came in to ask how I was doing about every 2 hours. When she saw that I wasn't spontaneously combusting on 1ml of pitocin she felt more at ease to raise it at the typical rate. I did find it interesting that after a full week of seemingly constant contractions, here I was with a labor inducing drug running through my veins and I felt little to no contractions at all. By sunrise she had me all the way up to 8ml.
July 23rd:
When my nurse came at 6 she also checked me for the first time since midnight. With a hint of surprise in her voice she let me know that I was maybe slightly more progressed but she would still say I was 2 cm and 70% effaced.
At 6:50, just before shift change, she came to tell me goodbye and wish me luck...and also up my pitocin to 10ml...the amount that I had given birth to Emmy on. I was slightly uneasy to be seeing that number again with seemingly nothing happening. I tried to shake the worry off and thought maybe things would suddenly kick into gear soon. Maybe after Dr. McLemore came to break my water...
At 7:00, in waltzed my beautiful doctor with her million dollar smile ready to "get this show on the road!" As expected she got right to work breaking my water and we laughed at the memory of her breaking my water with Emmy and how it had unnervingly sounded like someone scraping a balloon. 😆 She maneuvered around for a minute before catching it just right, releasing an alarmingly large gush. "Good grief, that's a lot of fluid!" she exclaimed. It continued to gush and she said, "Wow...that was an extremely effective rupturing of membranes! Looks like you just lost the majority of what was in there!" (Or so we thought at the time. 👀) She said I instantly progressed from 2cm to 4 after that, baby slipped a little lower (she could clearly feel her little head!), and my contractions were coming pretty consistently 2-3 minutes apart. The pitocin was doing it's thing! My mom was headed to the hospital by this point, Trevor had gone to get breakfast...so I used the brief moment of alone time to slap some makeup on. "Let's have a baby!"
Soon after, I met my first nurse of the day and she was the first to start the questions I always get, "How's your pain? Contractions starting to get uncomfortable?" I laughed and shook my head. I annoy the masses because contractions are primarily very bearable for me. I had a few hours of particularly uncomfy contractions at the very end of my labor with Ella (at which point I had a couple shots of fentanyl to take the edge off), and then with Emmy I literally had a handful of contractions that hurt enough for me to say "ouch" before I was pushing her out of me. So even though I was already at 10ml of pitocin, I knew I was nowhere near hurting at only 4cm. I was ready to get out of bed and start moving around to see if gravity would get things moving along. She brought me a birth ball and draped it with a waterproof bed pad because I was still leaking quite a bit of fluid. I got on and got to swaying and rocking. As 8:00 rolled around, I was fully anticipating to be meeting my baby girl very soon!
At 8:55 my nurse came back in and asked if I wanted to try out a wireless fetal monitor. She said they usually worked better for moms who wanted to move around and labor out of bed so as not to be confined by the length of the regular heart-rate and contraction monitor cords. That sounded extremely nice so I said absolutely! It was four little sticky pads that attached to my belly by exfoliating my skin slightly and sticking on. It had a slight burning sensation right at first but other than that, it was much more preferable to being tied to the machine. She told me to lay in the bed for about 20 minutes to let the monitor get acclimated but said I'd be free to get back up afterwards.
An hour later she came back and upped my pitocin again. I nervously asked her if that was okay since Dr. McLemore had expressly said when I had Emmy that she didn't want me any higher than 10ml. My nurse said she hadn't given that instruction this time but she would double check. And apparently after calling her, it was confirmed that she was okay with me going higher this time. I tried to just go with the flow and not let that freak me out. The morning was quickly coming to an end so surely I'd be giving birth any time now...right?
Just past 10:30 the nurse came back and checked me since it had been several hours since my water had been broken. I was a loose 5! Not much progress but at least it was something. 🤷🏼♀️And at least I was still managing with absolutely no pain! P.S. Trevor was in his usual "Allix is in labor" position. Birth is exhausting for the poor fella. 😂
The morning was peppered with random visitors...people from different organizations or wings of the hospital with various routine questions to ask. I hardly paid attention because the questions all seemed slightly ridiculous and unnecessary to be asking a woman in labor. I was thankful to be someone managing well because if I was hollering in agony all the pop-ins would've been really awkward. 🤪
An hour clicked by as I continued to either rock side to side on the birth ball or stand up and sway. (Continually losing a crazy amount of fluid.🥴) The contractions continued to be completely underwhelming though I did start to feel them lower...like kinda in my butt. 😆 Maybe she was just about to engage and I would quickly progress and feel the urge to push soon like I had with Emmy!
I heard a knock on my door and fully prepared myself for another random onslaught of irrelevant questions. 😆But instead, in walked Hailey! (Hailey? Hailey who you ask?...Remember at the beginning of this story the wedding I shot? Chris and Hailey? THAT HAILEY!) She happens to be a L&D nurse and the delivery she was supposed to be attending that day had unexpectedly ended in a c-section so she had been transferred to me!! She also happens to be pregnant, right at the beginning of her 3rd trimester, with their first baby (also a girl!) 😍
Just before noon my mom decided to run and get some lunch and she hadn't been gone more than 15 minutes when I felt like my contractions were getting a bit stronger and closer together so I texted her to tell her she might should hurry. 😆
At 1:00 Hailey came in to check me because it had been awhile and I had mentioned to her that I felt like the contractions were changing. I joked as she gloved up, "I shoot your wedding...you check my cervix. I'd say we're pretty even now." 😂Within just a few moments she said, "Oh...OH! I don't feel any cervix! I feel baby's head but I don't feel ANY cervix!" My mom (who had returned at this point) asked, "Uhhh...which means...what?" I knew what it meant but I struggled to believe it was true since I had ZERO pain and really no urge to push. "It means...it means this baby is ready to come! No cervix means she's complete! She's at a 10! I'm gonna go grab another nurse but I think we're about to meet this baby!" I didn't react much because I was still cautious to believe that was true. Surely not...but...maybe? I guess? The most painless, epidural-free transition period ever?! As Hailey rushed out of the room to get another nurse to consult, my mom just sat there with her jaw dropped before exclaiming, "You turkey!! You're at a 10 and you haven't made a single peep this whole time! Are you for real?!" The second nurse ran in, gloved up, and went to check me. She kinda smirked and said "Well I feel plenty of cervix. And it's still pretty posterior which is probably why Hailey couldn't feel it. I'd say you're a 6 or 7 at the very most." She turned to Hailey and demonstrated with her hand the angle at which to accurately check me with my cervix still leaning back. (The cervix starts to tilt forward when the baby drops as labor progresses and you get closer to the big finale of pushing.) So the 5 surreal minutes that we thought baby girl was on the cusp of her arrival dissipated away and I was thrown back into the ring of *cue Dory singing* "just keep waiting...just keep waiting...just keep waiting, waiting waiting..." Another plus to being someone who doesn't experience much pain throughout the majority of labor...it didn't really phase me to have the prospect of being a 10 stripped away and being knocked back down to a 6/7...I didn't do much more than laugh it off as a funny mistake and certainly didn't hold it against Hailey whatsoever. Now if I had felt like my body was splitting in two like some mamas describe their contractions, I might've been a little more upset. 😂
About half an hour later, a friend from church who has recently graduated nursing school was on the floor shadowing for the day in pursuit of possibly becoming a L&D nurse there. She popped in to check on me when she found out I was there and we chatted for nearly 30 minutes. She kept asking me if I was having pain as she kept glancing at my contraction monitor readout and then back at me. I laughed and shrugged and assured her I felt fine. I was certainly feeling the contractions plenty but wasn't hurting at all. She apparently went home later that day completely baffled telling her mom and grandmother how weird it was watching me comfortably have a conversation at that stage of labor. 😆
Sometime earlier, shortly after Hailey and one other girl took over as my nurses for the day, the wireless monitors had stopped working. They said even though they were a great resource, they were infamous for cutting out after about 3 hours with no real explanation. They were hard to troubleshoot being such a new technology. I was a little bummed to be moved back to the regular monitors with their restricting cords but knew I could make it work with me staying close to the machine either standing and swaying or being on the birth ball. However, with the amount that I was moving around in either of these positions, they started to have trouble getting accurate readings from the monitors. One minute the contractions wouldn't be recording properly, the next it appeared that her heartbeat was completely bottoming out. 😰They would come in and adjust the monitors, suggest I stay as still as I could for a few minutes so they could be sure she wasn't in distress before I got back to moving.
Just after 2:00 I started to feel more pressure during the contractions and all day they had been saying "Let us know if anything changes or if you start to feel pressure and we'll check you again." But when she checked me again she winced and shrugged before telling me I still seemed to be at a 6/7 and 80% effaced. This slightly discouraged me because all the pressure I had started feeling really made me think I had at least made some progress. Hailey tried to encourage me by saying that my cervix had tilted slightly forward from the previous very posterior position and baby seemed to be slowly adjusting into a more low and central position which was also technically "progress."
At 2:40 Trevor said, "Do you want me to like...give you a back massage or anything?" It cracked me up so much because he is usually so unengaged while I am in labor (due to absolute terror 🤣) and is no way the idyllic, husband of a gushy instagram post that is the hands on, comforting, very vocally encouraging birth partner type. He is lucky to survive the day, bless his heart, and I love him just for hanging in there each time. 😂 So to have him offer to do something so stereo-typically "husband with a wife in labor" and so not his usual vibe made me laugh but I gladly accepted the offer. I certainly wasn't hurting enough to be begging for counter pressure, or needing someone kneading my lower back, or pressing my hips together but I told him to feel free to rub my back and thanked him for the sweet gesture. 😉❤️
By 3:25 my pitocin, having been slowly increased little by little, was at 18ml. I knew 20ml was the typical max so again, I got in my head about why this was taking soooo long! I was grateful to be managing everything so well with this much pitocin being pumped in me. I knew full well most people had long since gotten an epidural at this point or at least were struggling with great deals of pain and I was blessed to still be trucking through contraction after contraction truly with no pain...not even really discomfort! Just very matter of fact tightening of my stomach that lasted for a minute and then dissipated. Not period cramp level, not enough to take my breath away...nothing. But even as thankful as I was...I was ready for something to change. The morning was long gone and I was getting weary that things were taking so much longer than we had all anticipated but I just tried to stay positive.
10 minutes later I found myself reaching the end of my rope, very unsettled and just downright annoyed about the contraction and heart-rate monitors. We had been endlessly struggling with them because, with me continually moving around, the monitors would slip out of place which meant they were constantly getting inaccurate readings. I would voice my frustration about feeling compelled to stay still so the monitors would be accurate even though I wanted to keep moving so labor wouldn't stall. And on top of that I was getting mixed signals from the nurses because one minute they would run in concerned about the inaccurate readings keeping them from properly interpreting what was going on with me or baby but then when I would complain about wanting to move around they would assure me I should do what I felt best to keep comfortably laboring. "Well which is it?!" I finally exclaimed once when they left the room. "Do I stay still for the sake of the monitors or can I move around for the sake of my labor?! I AM TIRED OF THIS! Why haven't I had her yet?! Seriously -- COME OUT BABY!" I had been in great spirits all day but I was starting to slip...not due to pain...just due to frustration and annoyance. 😆
My mom saw me spiraling and stepped out to "refill her cup of water." But of course she actually went into Mama Bear mode and headed to the nurses station. "Alright, can y'all make up your mind? She's losing her grip in there. What's more important? Her being able to move around to keep this labor moving along or do y'all need the monitors to work properly because you're truly concerned that baby is in distress?"
While she was in interrogation mode, I confided in Trevor and started getting a little emotional. "What is it?!" He asked in shock, confused how I had gone from happy-go-lucky one minute to suddenly weepy the next. "Nothing has changed for hours. What if baby's heartbeat really is dipping? What if she's not okay? Why isn't she here yet? If she's not out soon...." Trevor stopped me, "What will happen? What will they do?" I let the tears flow at this point as I choked out, "This is why people get emergency c-sections...from the baby being in distress or failure to progress in labor. What if I induced too early? What if she just wasn't ready yet? This is all my fault! And Dr. McLemore is going home at 5...if I don't have this baby by then, this induction is for nothing! I agreed to this just so that I could deliver with her! " Now, this being my 3rd time, I probably should have picked up on this shift as a sign that I was in or nearing transition. That infamous, tearful, "I can't do this!" feeling is a tell-tale sign that baby is coming very soon. But it's normally also marked by an increase in pain or pressure or the urge to push creeping up. I didn't have any of those. My contractions hadn't felt any different in hours...I wasn't in ANY pain and I didn't feel the urge to push whatsoever! As far as I could tell, I was still stuck at 6 or 7cm.
At 3:45 my nurses, having just been given an ultimatum of sorts by my mother, rushed into my room. They again tried to reassure me not to worry about the monitors and apologized if they had confused me. They did try to suggest an internal monitor (which is when an electrode is inserted into the birth canal, up into the womb and connected into baby's head for more accurate results) which I instantly and vehemently refused! My only knowledge of such a monitor was that my mom had an extremely negative experience with it while in labor with my older sister. The electrode had disconnected from my sister's head and it appeared that they had lost her heart-rate altogether so they rushed my mom straight into an emergency c-section. "Oh no no no! That was a long time ago!! We would never let something like that happen now!" They both fervently attested but I was 0% interested in that option.
10 minutes later they came back in and were like, "Hey, you know it's been a couple hours since we checked you. Do you want us to check again to see if you've made some progress? I'm sure you have." I almost said no because, again, I hadn't felt any obvious changes. All my contractions felt like pressure. I hadn't stopped talking through a single one of them. I had felt the same for at least 4-5 hours straight. But I finally agreed because at least I would know. My legs were exhausted from having been standing up swaying in the same spot for so long which made getting up into the bed to get checked actually refreshing. In moments I heard, "Girl, you're at a 9! And baby has dropped down to +1 station! You're doing it! We need to go call Dr. McLemore!" I sighed with relief, happy to lay there for a second knowing that my baby would surely be here soon. I figured I still had a little bit longer to go because of the continual lack of pain but surely it wouldn't be too terribly long now. They came back a few minutes later and said Dr. McLemore was with her last patient of the day and would head right up to check on me (and probably deliver baby shortly after!) as soon as she was finished. 4:00...goodness gracious I sure was cutting it close but at least it looked like I'd be having baby just in the nick of time before Dr. McLemore left for the day.
Because I was sure that I still had a little ways to progress before baby was truly ready to come I figured I needed to get back out of bed and keep moving so I'd be closer to a complete 10 by the time my doctor arrived. As Hailey helped me to the side of the bed a hard contraction hit me that I had to reeeeally concentrate and breathe through. I had a slight twinge of "Oh crap" in the back of my mind because that one felt like something serious was coming...faster than I thought. As the contraction wore off I took a deep breath, trying to regain enough strength to stand up...but I was actually too worn out and just sat for a few moments longer. Just as I thought I might be ready to stand, another hard contraction came marching in. My nurses stood on either side of me, prepared to help me stand up but also exchanging knowing glances. The contraction ended and I started to forget about my plan to stand. Maybe I'd be better off just waiting here on the side of the bed until Dr. McLemore showed up. The room was so quiet you could've heard a pin drop other than me deep breathing and low moaning. (It's so strange how this happens involuntarily when it's time.) I started zoning out the rest of the world around me. Nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered. My mind, my surroundings...everything was blank.
The first thought that entered my empty state of mind was, "Huh...I haven't had another contraction in awhille..." and then right on cue BAM. Hard contraction #3 reared its ugly head and...someone else was ready to rear her head as well. "She's coming out," I said under my breath at first before then stating louder and even more matter of factly, "It's here. It's time. She's coming out." Just like her big sister before her, there was no gradual increase in pressure or creeping urge to push...when it hit, it hit INSTANTLY and there was NO stopping it.
I threw myself back onto the bed as my legs spread and my body took over instinctively ejecting my baby. 😆 My eyes tightly shut and all I could think about besides, "OH MY GOSH I FORGOT THIS PART REALLY HURTS" was "ACK! MY PILLOW IS CROOKED AND AWKWARDLY BEHIND MY BACK INSTEAD OF MY HEAD! THIS IS THE WORST!" I was consumed with the desire to reach back and adjust it but my body was like, "Excuse me, you have WORK TO DO. KEEP PUSHING, WOMAN. Oh also, you have no choice because this baby is coming out right now whether you like it or not. Sorry not sorry k byyyye!" They asked me if I wanted to try to pull my legs up to help with pushing but my legs literally felt like jello and I had NO desire to try to raise them up. They'd be just fine where they were. 😂As baby crowned someone said, "Awww look at all that light hair!" For one instant my eyes opened and I let out an extremely shocked and confused, "HUH?!" (I'm sorry, there must be a mistake. I have dark haired Italian newborns only. 🧐) I promptly shut my eyes tightly again as my body continued to push. It felt like I was stuck in a time vortex...like hours were passing but I was no closer to pushing her out. I mean, I'm sure it was technically more than one push but as far as what it felt like, it felt very much like just one long continuous push. As opposed to when I was pushing Emmy out and I was being coached and counted through 8 minutes of pushing, taking breaks in between as contractions came and went. Anyways...I faintly heard in the distance Dr. McLemore shouting, "I'm coming!! I got stuck on the elevator!!" I felt baby's head come out (my goodness, the instant relief 😅) and, according to my mom, Hailey was the one that delivered her head and she continued to cradle it until my doctor got in there. I heard Dr. McLemore within seconds, clearly at the end of my bed now, (apparently after a masterful baseball slide into the room...I mean, full on Tom Cruise in Risky Business style) happily proclaim, "The head is out, Allix! Great job! Keep going!" I bore down as hard as I possibly could, letting out what can only be described as a primal roar and out the rest of my sweet baby came. My eyes opened at last and, hilariously enough, instead of triumphant joy and overflowing love, my very first thought when they held her up for me was terror. "Oh...OH! She's...she's so small!" I looked over at Trevor in disbelief and almost recoiled as they tried to hand her to me. "That can't be my baby!" I thought for a split second looking at this literal itty bitty dot of a person who was indeed TOTALLY BLONDE! I snapped out of it and let them set her on my chest as I shakily put my hands on her. My fear at whether or not she was actually mine 🤪quickly shifted to true fear because she wasn't crying or really even breathing from what I could tell. I started really shaking (like post-birth, uncontrollable, miserably uncomfortable adrenaline shakes) as they began desperately rubbing her back and using the bulb to suction out her mouth.
It seemed like way too many minutes past but I know it was only seconds before she let out a long and very welcomed cry. I exhaled after holding my own breath waiting on her to breathe and pulled her closer and burst into tears.
"What...what time was she born?" I asked, still shaking and utterly exhausted. Hailey said "4:17! And you laid back on the bed and we gloved up at 4:14 so that means you pushed her out in 3 minutes flat!" I was very shocked to hear that because it had felt like it took at least half an hour. "Really?!" I exclaimed and Trevor immediately and animatedly chimed in, "Oh for sure! That happened crazy fast! Like...how did you do that that fast?! She came RIGHT out of you! Definitely the fastest one yet! You're getting better and better at this!" 🤣
Though the intense shakes were very unpleasant, I was thankful both to have not torn and that I was at least not in a lot of pain (as opposed to my other directly post birth experiences. I tore badly with Ella so that was crazy painful and, though I didn't tear with Emmy, I had a sharp stinging, burning sensation for a whole hour after I had her that was awful. 👎🏼)
After about 20 minutes, maybe half an hour at most, baby girl latched right on and nursed so well! Another huge praise! She drank for like 45 minutes, I switched her to the other side and she latched great and ate again for a long time.
At that point everyone was very eager to get this tiny baby weighed and measured. I knew she was smaller than my other girls but at that point I was thinking right at 7lb. at the smallest. I couldn't comprehend the possibility of her being any smaller than that. As they took her to put her on the scale, I got to the bathroom to clean up and heard them say "6lb. 2oz!" My jaw dropped...complete shock! She really WAS tiny! Still can't really believe I had a baby that small. She was 19 inches long (right in between my other girls' lengths...Ella was 18.5 inches and Emmy was 19.5.) I came out of the bathroom and just stared at her there on the scale. So happy to have her out of me. So happy to be done with pregnancy and labor. So curious about WHO this little person was! She didn't look like anyone to me. I couldn't see any similarities to her big sisters (that blonde hair really threw me off!) and I didn't really see any traits of me or Trevor either. She was just...herself! And as I looked at her I knew I already loved her whoever she was! 🥰
We soon got moved to our postpartum hospital room where we would spend the next few days. Hailey wheeled me into the room and as we were unloading and getting settled and she was preparing to go home for the day, before she told us goodbye, she said, "Well, she's beautiful and I'm so happy for y'all. And just so glad I got to be a part of it all. It was amazing. I...I hope I can have a baby like you had a baby." She was kinda choked up as she said the last part and my eyes filled with tears as well. I mean...it's not every day that you shoot a wedding the day after you find out you're pregnant and then the bride helps deliver that baby 9 months later. Talk about a full circle moment! 😭I am so glad she was there. Easily one of my favorite parts of the day!
As the room began to clear and Trevor and I sat basking in our new precious baby girl we made the final decision on her name. We had known for months what it would probably be. Mostly due to Emmy...back when we found out the gender and started a list of potential names I had been on the phone with my mother-in-law telling her some of the ones we were talking about. Apparently Emmy overheard that conversation but had clearly locked onto one name in particular. I didn't know that until a couple weeks later when I was pointing out my growing belly to her and I asked, "Is your baby sister in here?" And without skipping a beat she excitedly said, "Baby sisser...Mylla!" (Pronounced My-la) I was taken aback because I had never expressly said to her, "Hey your baby sister's name is..." I thought it was cute that she had overheard one of the names but didn't think much of it until she started saying it every time we mentioned baby sister. It basically reached a point that we knew that had to be her name because Emmy was already totally convinced. 😂I was happy because it was one of my favorites on our list...Trevor took longer to be persuaded but something about an adorable little 2 year old voice saying it constantly makes it hard to resist. 😉 We remained pretty stumped on her middle name the whole time but finally agreed on May...both because it was a one syllable, southern sounding name similar to the middle names of our other girls (Jane and Dawn) and because we were married in May (and both of our birthdays are in May too actually.) So Mylla May it was. And even though we were unsure at first, it seemed to fit her very well. 💕
