It's true what I've heard from everyone else... as hard as labor and delivery are, the memories fade quickly as soon as your precious baby is in your arms. Which is why I wanted to take the time to write Linnea's birth story down as soon as I could, so the details and memories are preserved.
I am blessed with a birth story that probably could not have gone much better. Praise God! For my entire pregnancy (and some time before I was pregnant even), I found myself being very anxious about the 'what ifs.' What if I have to be induced? What if I can't handle the pain? What if I need to have a c-section? What if I go really late? What if there are complications? In hindsight, these things can happen, and even when they do, the prize at the end is the same, and is SO worth it. But either way, we worry (well, I worry) about the uncontrollable and unknown... and labor and delivery (particularly with your first) are the epitome of both of those things!
Anyways, without further ado, Linnea's birth story (beware I won't hold back much detail...so don't read on if you don't want to know!)
When I look back, I now realize that I started going into very early labor on Friday morning (the 12th, my due date...good girl, being on time, Linnea!). I got up around 1:30 that morning for a bathroom break. When I crawled back into bed, I had a little leak of fluid. Sadly, when you're pregnant it's not altogether an uncommon question to ask yourself, "Did I pee myself, or is that something else?" That's just what I asked myself and after laying in bed for a minute or two, I decided to go back downstairs to check it out. I didn't see or feel anything weird, so I just went back to bed.
When I got up again around 5:40 to get ready for work, I went to the bathroom and had another sensation of extra fluid. This time, there was also some bloody mucus (again, detailed I know, but I warned you, didn't I?!). It was funny, because as much as I had been hoping and praying for some sign of movement, when it came my reaction was something like, "No, no, no...I'm not ready!" So I Googled my symptoms a bit, and found (as is true with many pregnancy things), it's kind of mixed bag as far as what the symptom really "means." So I got into the shower to start my normal work day.
When Jeromy woke up a bit later I told him, "I think something MIGHT be starting." I told him the symptoms and consulted about what we should do. I decided to call the triage line at the hospital to touch base. I explained what I had experienced. They suggested a way to test if your fluids are leaking, or if it was something else. So I tried that, which showed that things weren't really leaking, figured I was fine (perhaps overreacting slightly), and got ready for work. I also felt reassured because I had had an appointment just the day before. I had no dilation, no signs of real progress, and figured the bleeding could probably just be explained by my exam the day before.
Throughout the day at work I was growing increasingly uncomfortable. I was feeling crampy off and on (kind of like period cramps), tired, and generally irritable. I also was regularly having bloody mucus discharge all day. It didn't help that it was my due date, so everyone was asking when the baby would be born, and if I would be in next week. Everyone is kind, and obviously well intentioned, but I didn't have much more to say than, "I'll just have to play it by ear, I'm not sure."
Just in case, I got as much as I could get done at work, and gathered paperwork for leave/benefits/etc. (glad I did this!). Mid-afternoon, Jeromy and I chatted and decided that the mucus discharge I was experiencing was probably the "bloody show" (they have weirdest and grossest names for pregnancy things!!). The website link Jeromy sent me indicated that basically labor was imminent at this point (ahhh!!!). I checked in with my boss to see if I could head out a little early because I wasn't feeling very good. I managed to leave work around 4:20.
When I got home at 5:00, the cramps were getting worse. They were becoming more painful, and more frequent. At one point, they felt like they were just on top of each other. I tried laying down (it didn't help). I tried walking around (it didn't help), I tried sitting on an exercise ball (it didn't help). Finally, I decided to get into the tub. That helped! The warm water relaxed me a bit. I was still feeling contractions (it took until about this point to acknowledge that that's what I was really feeling), but the water helped (at least a little).
While in the tub, Jeromy started to time contractions. It was easy to tell when they started - but I was having a hard time telling when they stopped. We both felt like we were probably getting inaccurate counts (how could they be 3-4 minutes apart already?!) , so we decided to call triage again to see what they thought.
When I called triage, I (according to Jeromy) down played the symptoms a bit. I explained that I couldn't really get a good handle on when they were stopping. I was still talking through them, and admitted that I didn't think it was time to go to the hospital quite yet. The nurse said (I will always remember this) that, "my body was playing around with labor." She suggested I drink lots of fluid, eat some dinner, get some sleep, and that she "might see us some time tomorrow."
Hanging up the phone was like pulling a trigger. All of a sudden, the contractions got worse. I struggled to do much more than whimper through them. I got back into the tub, and tried to relax. I was getting increasingly freaked out - was this really it? if my body is just "playing around" with labor, how much worse is the "real thing" going to be? when should I go to the hospital? I was fearful that I would be the woman who would go to the hospital and be told that I had absolutely no reason to be there and be sent home. I know this happens a lot, and isn't anything to be ashamed of...but I was still nervous.
Jeromy poured me a bowl of cereal, and a glass of juice to try to get some food and fluid in me (I hadn't eaten since lunch and by now it past dinner time). I tried to eat, but I was having a hard time finding time in between contractions to get much in. The contractions were getting worse and worse. We had stopped timing at this point, because we just hadn't had luck getting that process down. I told Jeromy that I couldn't eat through the contractions, and I most certainly would not be able to sleep through them like the nurse suggested! I didn't know what to do.
Shortly before 10, Jeromy and I decided that we should just go to the hospital. We just wanted to know either way. If it WAS a situation that there wasn't enough progress, at least we would know and could move forward from there. So Jeromy packed up the car, and we headed out shortly after 10. Jeromy said after the fact that he almost turned the car around, because I didn't have a contraction for the first several minutes of our journey. He set a point along the way to discuss turning around if I didn't have a contraction. Sure enough, right when we hit that point, I had a big one. I had several more bad ones over the duration of the 15 minute ride.
We got to the hospital around 10:30 or so. We had a bit of a hard time getting to where we needed to be (in hindsight we probably should have gone through the emergency entrance, since it was after hours). I was contracting very regularly at this point, and was anxious to get to where we needed to be. We didn't even bring our bags in, because I think both of us figured we wouldn't be staying.
We got up to Labor and Delivery, and were brought back to triage. The nurse at the triage desk asked us a few questions. Jeromy and I had to switch off who answered the questions as needed, to accommodate my contractions. The nurse, quite frankly, seemed very skeptical. She asked when my last appointment was (yesterday), and how dilated I was there (not at all), and if this was our first baby (yes). It seemed as though she was doubtful that this was the "real deal," which made me doubt myself a bit as well.
We were brought back into a triage room. The same nurse from the desk came in to check my progress. She said, "Well, let's hope for big numbers." She checked, and said, "Well, you're not going anywhere...you are 7-8 centimeters...you're having a baby tonight!" I immediately burst into tears, and Jeromy burst into laughter. We were both SO relieved. I was so proud of myself that I had done so much at home, and relieved that this WAS in fact the real thing, and that I was handling it well. Whew!
The next few minutes were a blur. There was no time to get our things. There was barely time to inform anyone that we were at the hospital, getting ready to have our baby. Our nurse came in and introduced herself. I got checked in. The nurse discussed our plan for pain management. I explained (in between contractions) that we had the "non-plan plan." We wanted to see how things went before making a decision.
Our nurse Joanna explained that an epidural was still an option, but wouldn't be for very much longer. She said that if it was an option still being considered, that I should have an IV of saline as soon as possible. I didn't feel like I needed an epidural, but opted for the fluids so it would still be an option. Jeromy and I asked Joanna about other options to help ease the pain a bit. She suggested fentanyl, a drug that was meant to "take the edge off." It wore off quickly, but could be administered again as needed. I opted for that. In hindsight, I'm not sure how much it actually worked. It made me a little sleepy (although it was also the middle of the night), and perhaps helped ease the pain a bit. I think it helped me mentally knowing that I had something that was easing the pain, even just a bit.
By the time we got into the labor and delivery room it was about 11:30. The contractions were strong and regular, but manageable. Joanna was AWESOME. It was just her and us the whole night, and she was consistently positive. She would suggest possibilities, but was open to our feedback and how we wanted things to go. It took me about 3 hours to progress from 7-8 to 10 cm. I was so thankful for Jeromy throughout this process. He was awesome. He let me squeeze his hand (hard!) with each contraction, told me how well I was doing and how proud of me he was, and kept me well hydrated with water. What an amazing guy!
Funny story about this time... at about 9 cm, Joanna kept asking if I had to go to the bathroom. She said that my bladder felt full, and that a full bladder would get in the way of complete dilation and pushing. I didn't feel like I had to go, so I kept saying no. Finally, she asked how I felt about getting a catheter. She said at this point (almost 10 cm), she didn't think it was safe for me to be going to the bathroom, but she felt strongly that something needed to be done. We okayed it, and she put in a catheter in between contractions. Apparently, there was a TON of pee in me! Getting it out helped because by 2:30 AM or so I was fully dilated, and pretty much ready to push. I was scared though, so I think I kind of put it off (as much as one can put that off).
By 3:00 or so I was ready to start pushing. Joanna helped me get the hang of it, and again was very positive, telling me which pushes were good, and cheering me on. When a contraction came, I did 3 pushes (each 10 seconds long). Joanna would count, and she and Jeromy were both holding my legs to create leverage. Although the pushing still hurt, it was better than just the contractions. I felt a bit more in control, and I liked that I was making some sort of progress (although it didn't always feel that way).
I was amazed how quickly the time went by for me during pushing. There was a clock on the wall opposite my bed, and I remember being amazed to see how quickly time seemed to pass. We continued the pattern of 3 pushes each contraction. By around 5:00 the doctor came in to check on things. He was impressed with my progress, and figured it wouldn't be long. Joanna echoed that, and said that all we needed to do was get her head out over the pubic bone, and we'd be in the home stretch. Jeromy surprised himself by wanting to watch the progress. He always thought he would be a "stick to the head of the bed" kind of guy, but said it was really fascinating to watch her come out.
Just a few contractions later and we were ready for the doctor. At this point I was in constant pain, because Linnea's head was crowning. OUCH! The doctor came in, and must have been surprised that Linnea was that close because he said, "Oh my! That's a baby!" and scrambled to get his baby catching clothes on. I had two more rounds of contractions and pushes. At the end of the second round I stopped, waiting for the next contraction to come. But the doctor said, "Don't stop now! One more big push and she'll be here!" So I gave one more big push, and out she came!!
It truly was like an out of body experience. I couldn't believe she was here. I was a mom. Jeromy was a dad. We did it! I bawled as they lifted her to my chest, and the nurses checked her out. She cried right away. Jeromy cut the cord (he said he missed a couple times because he was shaking). The nurses asked if she had a name. Linnea had been my favorite the whole time, but Jeromy hadn't wanted to commit until she was here. So when the nurses asked I just looked at Jeromy. He said, "It's Linnea" with a smile. I asked if he was sure, and he just gave a big smile and nod. After the fact he said that Linnea was his favorite too, but he wanted to be sure. She was Linnea all along. :-)
After a few minutes, the nurses whisked Linnea away for weighing and testing. I had torn a bit during delivery, so the doctor spent quite a bit of time stitching me up (ow!). Lucky for me, he said the tearing really wasn't too bad, and it should heal pretty well.
After Linnea was done getting cleaned up, and I was all stitched up, Jeromy, Linnea, and I were able to spend some quiet moments together. I will always treasure this time, in the early morning light of her birth day...getting to know her, and feeling the love of our family of three. It will be a wild and crazy ride, I'm sure. But I'm so eager to take it with these two! <3
