Emma's Birth

People told me every birth is different.  But the mini-me of self-doubt that lives in my brain continually whispered that I was destined for another long back labor, ultimately ending with a C-section.  I'm glad I could tell self-doubting mini-me to bugger off in the end.

I saw one of my obstetrician's on Wednesday evening, April 17th.  She said since I was now at 38 weeks she wanted me to have this baby sooner than later.  So I figured I would try to induce labor.  (I won't go into the details of this.  I don't want to embarrass any readers including the husband.  If you're curious, google it.)  I contacted my doula to keep her updated.  She said that she was currently with a momma in labor and had been with her since the previous day. She suggested that I let her sleep that night and the next day and THEN try to speed labor along.  Good deal.  The last thing I wanted was my labor support person to be so exhausted that she couldn't support me.

When I arrived home, I rattled off the list of things I wanted to get done before bed to the husband, including packing my hospital bag.  But then I whined about how tired I felt.  The husband suggested I eat dinner, do my pregnancy exercises and call it a night.  I obliged.  

Three AM.  

Is that Abby crying?  Yep.  I'm too tired to move.  Thankfully, she stopped.  I think I was having a dream I was in labor.  Oooo.  That was an uncomfortable abdominal pain.  Must be gas.  Go back to sleep. . .Owww. . .there it is again.  Ignore it.  Ouch!  OK, that was some sort of contraction.  

I started timing.  Mild contractions, four minutes apart, lasting for a minute.  After an hour I padded downstairs to the couch where Greg was sleeping.  (He couldn't stand my snoring and tossing and multiple trips to the bathroom that are the hallmarks of the third trimester.)  

Gregory.  Gregory.  I'm pretty sure I'm in labor but I don't need you yet so keep sleeping.

Because he's done this before, I think he actually did sleep for about 10 more minutes.

Until about 7 AM I spent my time taking a shower, packing my hospital bag (and cursing myself for not doing it before I went to sleep), adding calming songs to my labor playlist and sitting on the big exercise ball to get through the contractions.  And I texted Jodi, my doula, to give her a heads up and I tell her, on my honor,  that I hadn't done anything to encourage labor.  

Greg spent this time showering, making breakfast and changing the cat litter in the litter box.  No, we're not last-minute people.  Honest.

The contractions got stronger and we called Greg's parents to pick up Abby.  Abby looked at me a little funny when I groaned.  I told her I was pretending to be a dinosaur and she should too.  Abby moaned with me until Greg and I left the house.

At the hospital the triage labor nurses chastised me for not calling my doctor's office to let them know I was in labor.  I told them I did call, but iI reached the after hours service and the message said to only press 1 if it was an emergency so I hung up.  Apparently, having a baby qualifies as an emergency.

Overall, Emma's labor was 11 hours.  Highlights included:

• The IT guy coming in the room to fix a monitor.  He managed to be in there for the few minutes between contractions, but gosh did he look uncomfortable.
• My labor nurse telling me that my moaning scared another mom in labor next door, but she was reassured that she wouldn't sound like me because she was getting an epidural.
• Me losing all coherent brain function during pushing and screaming things such as "Get it out!. . .I don't care if I have a baby anymore. . .DRUGS!"  The media is partially to blame for this.  Any time I've seen women give birth on television the health care people always say "Now it's time to push."  No one said those exact words to me so even in the midst of pushing, I didn't realize that it was time to push and I thought that labor might go on another 10 hours plus.  Damn TV.
• The midwife asking if I wanted to reach down and touch the baby's head, to which I responded "Absolutely, not!"

And then sweet Emma was in the world.  And all was right.

Greg and Jodi were fabulous.  My midwife was fabulous.  I was somewhat in shock.

Emma Lynne was born at 1:58 PM on April 18th.  She was 8 pounds, 8 ounces, 20.5 inches with blue eyes and brown hair softer than any favorite blanket.  



Testing the camera in triage.  He looks so serious, doesn't he?

Me in between contractions.  Yes, I'm faking that smile.

Emma and I right after birth.

Jodi, the amazing doula.  She only had a few hours sleep and she still looks that good.

Abby meeting her sister.

Greg and his girls.

Sweet Emma Lynne.  We're so happy you're here.