My Totally TMI Birth Story

Editor's Note #1: Male readership, proceed at your own risk.

Editor's Note #2: Y'know why this is a "Totally TMI" birth story? Because I included pictures. Of me. IN LABOR. Yeah. When my friend Deidra blogged about having her baby girl recently, she included a photo of herself in labor at the hospital, which I thought was really cool, because those are the kind of real-life pictures that you don't see often. In my case, I was lucky enough to have my doula/friend Liz present at Cole's birth, which meant an extra person to help take pictures. I asked her to just go for it and capture the good, the bad, and the ugly, which she did (because she is particularly awesome). However, I must warn you that you should probably stop reading right now if you are offended by any of the following: bare shoulders; streaky mascara; bloody, slimy newborns; and things that are just not very pretty. In general, I am rarely especially vain (a good thing) or modest (a bad thing), so... reader beware. (And by the way, Tim wants me to clarify that the pictures aren't really graphic or anything. But still, I thought I should mention it.) :-)

Moving right along...

Starting around 37 weeks, I started feeling some pressure/tightness in my lower abdomen, which over time turned into mild, irregular contractions. At my 39-week appointment, I was about 1.5-2 centimeters dilated, and my doctor agreed that he would wait until I was 11 days overdue to induce me, but that I should have a non-stress test at my regular 40-week appointment on Wednesday the 18th.

The non-stress test was fine (the baby's heart rate was strong and the fluid level was still good), although at the 40-week appointment, I was still just 2 centimeters dilated. My fabulous mother-in-law Anne Marie was in town, and both the baby and I were ready to get things going, so my doctor and I rescheduled the induction for just two days later - Friday the 20th (seven days overdue). Even so, I spent the next two days hoping that I would just go into labor on my own! Didn't happen.

On Thursday night, I phoned the hospital to find out when I should come in on Friday, and then I got an early confirmation call the next morning as well. I showered and dressed (but skipped breakfast), and then Tim and I took a few very chipper pictures before leaving:
I arrived at the hospital shortly before 8 AM and got all set up in my room:

(Is there anything more awesome than the treaded hospital socks?? Oh, yes... the mesh hospital underwear.)

My doctor came in ten minutes later, checked my dilation (3 centimeters), and went ahead and broke my water (no pitocin necessary, yay!). Then my nurse, Donna, gave me an IV and hooked me up to saline and antibiotics. Liz the Unflappable (that's her new name, btw) arrived and started taking some pictures for us. We didn't really know how to pose for the first one:

...but then we figured out how to try to look nice and normal:

(There she is, with her totally sweet "Support Person" badge!!)

About an hour after the doc broke my water, I started feeling contractions that were more regular (a few minutes apart), so once I was done getting my antibiotics, the nurse unhooked me so that Tim, Liz, and I could stroll the hallways. After scoring some Jell-O, we returned to the room, and Liz busted out her app that records contractions (SO COOL):

Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, the contractions continued to get stronger and more painful the longer I tracked them. As you can see, I am no longer smiling:

Tim and I started employing our different methods of pain management, including the Hug-and-Sway:

...and the Belly Lift:

With this pregnancy, I really, really wanted to try water therapy for pain relief, so I'd requested one of the hospital rooms with a jetted tub. About 3.5 hours after the doctor broke my water, and 2.5 hours after the contractions became regular, I told Liz that I wanted to get into the tub because the pain was starting to become unbearable. The nurses gathered towels for me and were going to get the tub ready, but just as quickly as I asked for the tub, I asked instead for an epidural. By that point, I was dilated to 5 centimeters and things were progressing extremely rapidly. Honestly, I have no idea why I'm smiling in this picture, because it was shortly after 12 PM, which is when the anesthesiologist arrived:

And thus began the whole epidural fiasco. He had me lie on my side at the edge of the bed and curl my knees up to my chest. I was crying by then, as I was pretty much in miserable, agonizing pain with each contraction (I was fully dilated by the time the epidural was working, which meant that I was in "transition" during the whole thing, which was SUPER fun). The only thing that seemed to help me was to rub my forehead REALLY hard with my fingers as some sort of distraction:

So that's what I kept doing. Haha! I wanted to die.

Tim and Liz were both very supportive. Tim kept rubbing my head, and Liz rubbed my legs. Every now and then, I'd glance at them, to see Tim with his look of somber concern and Liz with her big, encouraging smile. Hahaha! I loved the different coping skills! Anyway, attempt #1 at the epidural did not work, and after 20 minutes of waiting for it to kick in (and after giving me a couple syringes of direct anesthetic to try to help a little), the anesthesiologist finally removed it and tried again. That horrible wait...

...but look at how sweet he is:

While I was waiting for epidural attempt #2, I was still crying, shaking, and rubbing the heck out of my forehead. Fortunately, the second time was a charm... THANK GOODNESS!!! Almost an hour had passed since I'd originally asked for the epidural, and by that point, I was dilated to 10 centimeters. I was also completely and utterly numb, because I was so far progressed that the anesthesiologist had to give me a horse-dosage of anesthetic for it to have any effect. I could not feel or move my legs AT ALL. But at least the pain was gone!! It was time to celebrate with some cherry ice chips, while the nurse paged the doctor and got things set up for the delivery:

Around 1:20 PM, my doctor came back and got suited up. Here we are, preparing for baby time!

I have no idea why we have this picture, but it's very funny to me for some reason. It looks like I'm kicking the doctor's heinie with my awesome hospital-socked foot:

I'll spare you the pictures of me exhausting myself trying to push out a baby. (Seriously, it was exhausting. The doctor had me push through five contractions, four times in a row for each one, with a quick breath in between. And I wasn't even sure if I was actually pushing, because I couldn't feel A THING!) Anyway, the doctor eventually gave me an episiotomy (so much better than a third-degree tear, lemme tell ya), and after about ten minutes, he told me to slow my pushes for a second. He used a vacuum to help the baby's head come out, and with one final push, he was OUT! The time was 1:35 PM, and baby Cole was 9 lb 5 oz and 21 inches long. Here's when Tim saw the baby:

...and here's when I saw him. (Giving birth is pretty much the most magnificent thing in the world.)

As I requested, the nurses plopped Cole right on my chest, blood and goo and all, for some skin-to-skin contact (something that I regretted not doing with Weston).

Then the doctor helped Tim cut the umbilical cord. He was a very happy papa!

I was a very happy mama.
Sigh...

YAY! We made another baby!!!!

The doctor stitched me up while Cole and I relaxed a bit:

And here's the whole team! Goooooo TEAM!

Overall, it was a great experience (aside from the whole lengthy epidural thing). We were very pleased:

And there's my fabulous Support Person, being all cute and fabulous!

As I've come to learn, the recovery is way harder than the actual delivery, and this time it started about a half-hour after the baby arrived. Because I'd gotten such a massive, massive quantity of anesthetic, I started to develop severe shakes that lasted over an hour. I was shivering and shaking uncontrollably, and the nurses kept piling warm blankets on top of me, even on my head:

It was pretty horrible. I don't want to go through that again. However, aside from that (and of course Cole's really awful infection... that whole thing), the recovery this time has been a thousand times better than with baby #1. The shakes eventually subsided, and my legs started functioning normally after not too long. I didn't need a whole lot of Percocet to help with the pain, and after my first night in the hospital, I was walking around and managing pretty well. Despite the health scare with Cole, I don't seem to have developed baby blues this time, either, which is great. Overall, the hospital stay was pleasant and comfortable, and I have the wonderful, kind nurses to thank for that (plus the kitchen, who treated me and Tim to an elegant "couple's lunch" before we departed!).

So, hooray! Good experience, cute baby, happy family. The End.

**********

By the way, I do have a couple of very important shout-outs to make. First of all...

LIZ!

Liz is training to be a doula right now, and I was thrilled when I learned that she'd be in Utah right around my due date. It was so fun and uplifting to chat and laugh with her in the delivery room, to stroll the halls with her when things picked up, and to have her emotional and physical support when things got rough. I especially love that she took so many pictures for us -- THANK YOU!!! (She essentially enabled this Totally TMI birth story, so yay for that.) Plus, she saw everything -- my epidural, my boobs, my lady bits... She even fetched the tub with my placenta so that I could see what it looked like. And not once did she dry-heave or anything. She was far from pale, shuddering, and rocking in the corner -- just perfectly content. That's why I call her Liz the Unflappable. She is going to be an amazing doula and midwife. :-) YAAAAAAY LIZ!!! I miss you! COME BACK SOOOOOON!!!

And second of all...

ANNE MARIE!

Tim's mom (Anne Marie/Gangy) stayed with us for two weeks to help out with the new baby. It was unfortunate that Cole was only actually home for the last two of those days, but Anne Marie deserves a huge round of applause for all that she did for us. Here's just a sample:

-She cooked dinners;

-She did the dishes (over and over again);

-She did laundry;

-She cleaned our BATHROOMS;

-She baked cookies;

-She planted sunflower seeds for our garden;

-She brought us goodies from PA (soft pretzels, Hearth Baker bread, Tastykakes, loads and loads of Asher's chocolate...);

-She bought groceries for us;

-She took us out to eat over and over again (we actually went to Cafe Rio four times, which was so. very. awesome.);

-She played with Weston and babysat him a ton (for a date night, for my hospital stay, for my hospital visits after my hospital stay...);

-She held and cuddled Cole a ton, too, so that we could free our arms or direct our attention to Weston when necessary...

The list goes on and on. Weston's and Cole's Gangy is pretty spectacular, and we are SO LUCKY that we had her help. We love you, Anne Marie!!! YAAAAY!!!