May 17, 2013

Erica's Birth Story


We found out about Fleck on March 12, 2012. It was finally a nice day and Amelia and I played outside until Daddy came home, greeted with a positive pregnancy test. Amelia wore her “Big Sister Amelia” shirt that I had bought months before in anticipation of this day. We celebrated with dinner out and started talking about life with two kids.

Fast forward 8ish months to Thanksgiving. Fleck was due on the 22nd, which was Thanksgiving Day. I was huge and ready to not be pregnant anymore but also mourning the loss of having only one child. They are so much easier to care for in utero, but so much cuter outside. We had a fantastic dinner at Josie and David Skavdohl’s house and I drank a cup of Josie’s “Uterine Tonic” homeopathic tea before bed. All day Friday I felt a bit crampy, I figured it was the tonic, but started having some irregular squeezes near evening. They didn’t hurt too much but I knew something was starting. Rob and I played Scrabble during Amelia’s nap and I had to pause from my word-forming for a few contractions here and there. After another cup of uterine tonic, we went to bed early…about 9:30 hoping to get a full night sleep before going into labor.

Silly us. By 10PM, I was breathing hard during contractions and starting to remember what labor felt like from almost exactly two years before. I was laying on my left side in bed, watching my cell phone for a rough estimate of how long and frequent contractions were when Rob, not sleeping because of my noisy breathing, reminded me of the contraction app I had installed on my phone to do just that. I timed for about 20 minutes when I realized they were averaging 1-2 minutes long and 3-4 minutes apart. I thought they were pretty strong, although I knew they were nothing like what was to come, and we called the midwives. Jen returned our call quickly and told me what I wanted to hear: “if you are ready to be where you want to have the baby, it’s time to come in”.

By 11:30 we had called Laura McGillvray to come watch Amelia and were packing the last few things for the hospital. I quickly found that being on my hands and knees was the most comfortable position for me and dropped to the floor when a contraction started. I managed to put on sweat pants, had a contraction, put on my shirt, another contraction, packed the phone charger, another contraction, peeked in to say bye to my soon-to-not-be-only-child, and was on my hands and knees again. Things were moving much faster than last time and I was glad Laura was already on her way.

Rob and I were in the kitchen, me on the floor, when Laura arrived. I handed off the monitor and we jumped in the car. I had a few contractions on the way in and one in front of the security guards at the entrance to Mercy. Rob went to park while I headed upstairs myself. I had to drop to the floor twice while signing in and was glad Rob showed up in time to help me to our room just before 2AM.  So much for getting a good night sleep.

Jen met us in our room. At this point, I was able to happily talk and move about between contractions, although when one came, I would have to really concentrate on my breathing. I remembered from attending Elania Pfaff’s last birth that moaning and relaxing the jaw can help dilate the cervix so I tried to make my room sound as much like a cow stable as possible. I thought about Mary when she gave birth to Jesus and wondered if the cow’s mooing helped her through contractions, or if she just wished he would take up residence in a stable without a laboring woman. The moaning did help and was much more relaxing than the intense tachypnea that I brought upon myself during Amelia’s birth. I started to establish a rhythm: breathing slowly when the tightening started, increasing my breathing and then moaning through the peak. I could tell they were getting more intense when the pitch of the moan turned into a high squeal before tapering back down. We were getting somewhere.

Over the next few hours, I labored in bed with what I thought were really strong contractions. I was excited that this time, labor was progressing more quickly and hopefully we’d have a baby before Jen’s shift was over at 7:00. With Amelia, I had experienced piggyback contractions: one big contraction followed by one or two less intense contractions before the first one waned. This was slightly annoying. I was expecting this to happen again and was pleasantly surprised when each contraction actually ended, giving me a much needed break before the next one. I spent time on my hands and knees, which I preferred still, but at Jen’s suggestion, I labored on my left side and then right to hopefully get Fleck’s melon wedged appropriately between my pelvic bones. I had grand ambitions of walking the halls through contractions, doing squats to bring the baby down, and dancing to “I’m pregnant and I know it” all while calmly humming hymns and sipping my “Pam’s special cocktail” (OJ, cranberry, and gingerale). These things did not happen with my first labor and I’m not sure what I was smoking when I thought they would this time but when my uterus started tightening, the last thing I wanted to do was move. I would grip the hand rails or Rob’s hand, start the breathing/moaning and pray that it ended quickly.

By about 6AM, I was starting to feel pushing sensations! I was working quite hard with each contraction and although Jen had not checked my cervix yet I was sure I was almost there. Thankfully, midwives are amazing and can check a cervix from just about any position. I certainly did not want to be on my back so Jen checked me where I was.

The news came back: “SVE 3.5/60/-2”

This is bad news. In lay terms that means I was only dilated 3.5cm, my cervix was just over half way thinned out (effaced) and Fleck’s head was not even down there yet. In laboring woman terms it means cry. And that’s what I did. How could I possible only be 3.5? I had been working so hard. With Amelia it took fourteen hours to get from 3.5 to fully. I was in so much pain and couldn’t imagine doing this for another fourteen hours. I broke down. I was an emotional wreck. I just kept saying “I can’t do this” then another contraction would come, then I cried more. The notes say “patient very frustrated and tearful,” that was a polite way to put it. Thankfully, my nurse, Kristen, was amazing. She listened to me, helped me through, told me to take it one contraction at a time.

Jen had said that she could barely feel Fleck’s head because the bag of waters was so full and bulging. Turns out, this is why I was not dilating, (although I didn’t realize this until much later). The bag of waters was not strong enough to dilate my cervix but the stubborn thing would not pop. I had a similar problem with Amelia, apparently I grow steel tanks of water in my uterus.

I went on like this for a while, not knowing what to do. I knew I didn’t want an epidural but at the time I desperately wanted the pain to stop. Apparently I asked for one multiple times but Jen encouraged me to try nubain instead. I had nubain with Amelia’s birth and although it let me rest between contractions, I didn’t like how it made me feel. It produces a tipsy-drunk like feeling and I don’t like that at all. I eventually agreed to the nubain and was thankful that some relief was on the way. 

Jen left at 7:30 and Ellie and Eve (a student midwife) came in. I had planned on showing Ellie my sweet baby in my arms when she came on shift but the sweet baby had other plans. I was able to rest between contractions, which had slowed to about 5 minutes apart with the nubain. I don’t remember much of the next few hours, which is good. Ellie wrote that the current plan was “supportive care until ready to make different plan”. Reasonable.

By 10:30 I was ready to make a different plan. The nubain was wearing off, I was awake more, and the contractions were more painful. Ellie checked me and generously told me I was at 4. Not much progress for four hours of contractions. My body sure likes to hold on to these babies. Ellie offered to break my water but I wasn’t quite ready for that. I knew that would make the contractions much more painful and I felt weak and weary from many hours of work and needed a bit more rest. I rested for a while and then at someone’s suggestion spent some time in the shower, leaning on the bed, on my hands and knees, left side, right side, left side, right…..nothing seemed to be happening except I was in pain.

Finally around 1:40PM I was ready to be done and although I knew it would be even more painful (if that was possible) I asked Ellie to break my water. I was on my hands and knees at the time and 6cm dilated. I was fully effaced but Fleck’s stubborn head was still at -1, not even touching my cervix. That bulging bag of waters needed to go. With Ellie’s instruction, Eve broke my water at 1:47 and I immediately regretted the decision. With the steel walls crumbling and a tsunami exiting my vagina, Fleck’s head slammed into my cervix and the pain was beyond compare. I remember some pretty intense pain from Amelia’s birth but it was nothing like this. My whole body felt as though it was being ripped apart.

 I’m sure I terrified Rob and I screamed and cried and writhed with the all but continuous contraction that followed. I wanted drugs and I wanted them now. I couldn’t do this any longer and at this point I imagined hours of this to come. After all I was only 6 cm still. Pain does not describe what I felt. Pain is when you stub your toe, or you bite your tongue, or your hand gets cut off by a dull spoon. This was beyond pain.  Ellie ordered more nubain but by the time it was drawn up she refused to give it saying the baby would be here before it could take effect. I was on my own. Just me, Fleck, and the uterus I wanted to forever banish to the moon. The only thing that kept me going was the fact that I had to. I almost immediately had the urge to push and was coached through “short, grunty pushes” since I wasn’t fully dilated yet. I found myself pushing quite hard between my short, grunty pushes because I knew the only way for this pain to stop was to amputate at the diaphragm STAT or get the baby out. I strongly considered the amputation.

After what seemed like forever and a split second all at the same time, I heard the nurse calling for backup and Ellie saying “the baby is coming!” At 2:04 I was fully dilated and given the go-ahead to really push. Eve was instructing me to pant and not push so hard so I wouldn’t tear but if you remember, I was ready to amputate the lower half of my body to make this stop so I was hardly concerned about a little tear. She was putting pressure back on the baby’s head and I’m not sure if I shouted this out loud or just thought it but the words “I am trying to get this baby OUT, stop pushing it back IN” existed somewhere in my consciousness.

Two minutes later, her head was out, and with one more push at 2:07PM, a “vigorous”, though quiet, baby popped out. (Side note: the term “popped out” clearly was not coined by anyone who has actually pushed a BABY out of her vagina). Still on my hands and knees (clearly my preferred delivery position) I couldn’t see the baby and didn’t believe she was out. For those of you who have not had such an experience, this end point does not feel as clear cut as one might think. It still partially feels like there is a baby clogging the birth canal. I guess if I had thought about it (I wasn’t thinking much at the time), I would have realized that the pain was gone and therefore the baby must be out. It’s a messy, emotional, dramatic few seconds and fluids, stretched out everything, commotion, and surging hormones give the illusion that maybe it hasn’t come out yet. I remember feeling unsure as to what was going on. Was the baby born? Was I done?  Then, why don’t I hear any baby cries. I panicked and, sure the baby was dead, shrieked “why isn’t it crying?” Apparently she was just fine, wide-eyed, and taking everything in as she still does today.

Someone helped me flip over and sit down and the only thing in the world that could have been better than labor being over was this tiny girl they placed in my arms. As Eve passed her up to me, Rob announced she was a girl and I was in love. Even writing this, 6 months later, I am tearing up remembering that moment. You might think after having one baby, it wouldn’t be quite as emotional the second time but you’d be wrong. She was amazing. I almost instantly forgot the agony I was in just moments before as this beautiful baby stared up at me as she has done so many times since.

She was perfect. She looked at us, seemingly already familiar with our faces, then closed her eyes and rested for a while on my chest. It must have been hard work for her too, and I could tell she was glad to be done. Rob cut the cord after it finished pulsating and she let out a few reassuring cries, just to make everyone happy, and then settled down with me. Her tiny shriveled fingers wrapped around my pinky, her little legs curled up on my now squishy belly, and we just stared at her. She was here, finally, our second little girl. We named her Erica.

May 10, 2013

Some Erica Cuteness





What does it do?

Rob and Amelia play this game where Rob asks "What does a ___ do?" and Amelia runs around and shows/tells him what it does. It can be anything. An elephant, the letter B, a hexagon, the number 6. She has something for everything.

May 9, 2013

First Foods


Who says plastic bags are bad for babies...

...we are going on 15 minutes of pure entertainment!