I know I am very very late in writing this, but honestly, I've been far too busy cuddling and playing with a sweet little girl to sit down and write anything. However, I want to write her story so that I vividly remember, so that I can go back and relive one of the moments when Tyler and I's life changed forever, for the better.
Tuesday, November 12th, approx. 6:30 pm
I felt like I had been having Braxton Hicks off and on throughout the day. Initially they felt exactly as the Braxton Hicks of the past week or so had felt. Though there was one point during the day where a few of them had been more uncomfortable, I truly thought nothing of it, chalking it up to being more tired and closer to Alivia's arrival. At home after work, as we was getting ready to leave, I noticed a need to change my clothes, because I honestly thought I had just peed in my pants a bit, but I again chalked it up to being closer to baby's arrival. I changed, got ready and we walked out the door.
We went at our friend's house for community group as usual. Meanwhile, though I did not realize at the time, my water had broken. It wasn't what I expected. I didn't have to mop the floor. I simply felt as though I had wet my pants a little, but somehow knew I had not. I later found out this was because I was not dilated very far. Anyway, I digress... at this point I quietly told my husband that we needed to leave and we headed home. We prepared and ate dinner together, cleaned up the kitchen, then I timed my contractions for the first time. They were about 3 1/2-5 minutes apart, lasting for 30-40 seconds. I texted my doula to check in and let her know what was going on. Her response was, "Okay, let me know when they are lasting a minute, and I'll see you in the next day or two." I decided that I should probably shower. At this point I still didn't fully realize my water had broken, and thought if this was false labor, a shower would potentially slow the labor, but if it was real, I should be clean because I didn't know when I would shower again, or how long this might last. I showered, dried my hair, threw on clean sweatpants and decided to time my contractions again. They had essentially not budged. At this point I begin to realize this was probably not going to stop. I decided that a nap might be helpful if this labor was going to last through the night. It was about 11pm.
Around 12:30 I got up, unable to sleep or even rest through the contractions any longer. I began to make sure the last minute things were packed, then went to sit on the couch with Tyler, who was up watching tv after picking up around the house. We watched television until the contractions consumed my focus and I was unable to be distracted while they occurred. I walked the hall, sat on my yoga ball, attempted to stretch and paced the house some more. About 2 am I timed my contractions again and they were lasting a minute and about 2 1/2 minutes apart. I was uncomfortable, but not miserable. Ty said he felt helpless and didn't know what to do. I called Sally, and updated her on their length. Tyler decided to jump in the shower, realizing that he did not know when he would be able to get away to shower again. Sally said that she would feed her baby and be on her way shortly. In the meantime, she told me to have Tyler call her when he got out of the shower so that she could help him help me. He called her a few minutes later, and then promptly set to work sitting behind me, rubbing my back, speaking softly, encouraging me, and simply asking what I needed.
Sally arrived around 3 am and helped me breath through contractions. She and Tyler sought to help me relax between them. I sat on the yoga ball but was having a hard time relaxing or resting. We moved to our bedroom where they propped up pillows on the bed so that I could sit on the yoga ball but lie my head down on the bed between contractions to rest. We continued with soft light, breathing and resting until about 5 am when we decided it was time to head to the hospital. Ty made coffee for he and Sally, then went to start the car. The moments it took to round up the last few things seemed like an eternity as I awkwardly sat, unable to do much to help, but also increasingly uncomfortable.
We headed to the hospital, Sally following in her car. The ride was far less than pleasant, as I prayed that God would just allow me to have less contractions in the car. He answered. In reality, I had about half of the amount of contractions I should have for the length of time we were in the car- according to the rate they had been previously coming. Some say that's normal, I was just grateful.
We arrived at the hospital and headed up to labor and delivery to check in. The contractions quickly resumed their previous vigor. I signed in, answering questions between contractions and was directed to the room. The nurse was patient as I got settled in, asking Tyler as many questions as she could, and waiting for me to be able to answer questions when she needed me.
5:40am
The nurse said it was time to check me. "Oh good" I thought, "hopefully I'm at an '8'". The next words from the nurses mouth were not what I wanted to hear, "you are about a 1". What? How could this be? This, this.. was uncomfortable and exhausting. This was intense. I looked at Sally and said "I can't do this for the next 6 hours" presuming... if I was only at a "1" that's how long it may easily take. Her reply, "you don't have to do it for 6 hours, you have to do this one" was exactly what I needed in that moment.
The next two hours are a blur. I sat on a yoga ball, tried different positions in the bed, and worked to breath through contractions. They were intense. Sally stood at the end of the bed, coaching my breathing, while Tyler held my hand, and gently said all of the right things, exactly the way I needed him to say them. About eight o'clock that morning I told Sally and the nurse that I had to go to the restroom. I got up and slowly walked to the bathroom. The door closed, and then someone knocked and it opened again. Sally appeared asked if I needed to go number one, or two. Confused, and embarrassed, I whispered "two". She quickly replied, "you don't have to go to the bathroom, you are ready to have this baby". She helped me up and walked me back to bed, while calling to the nurse "she needs to be checked". The nurse hurried over and a moment later with surprise, she declared that it was time to have a baby. She called for the doctor and a flurry erupted. Nurses with carts and tools appeared, whispering and standing in corners of the room. I felt like the urge to push. My primary nurse told me to wait, that the doctor was coming. I didn't think I could. I half-jokingly told the nurse that she might be delivering a baby. Sally stepped close and gently told me that I could wait, and we could still make progress so that when the doctor arrived it would go more quickly. She coached me to alter my breathing and fight the urge to push with a deep, guttural groan that could help move the baby along. What seemed like forever was merely moments as the flurry of nurses continued in the background.
8:20am
I heard the clicking and clacking of high-heels running down the hallway of the hospital, and the door burst open. In a motion that seemed almost movie like, a doctor ran in, wearing 4 inch heels, threw off a white fur vest, and was assisted into her gloves, mask and medical scrubs. She quickly landed on the stool with wheels and slid across the floor of the delivery room, arms outstretched, pronouncing "let's have a baby". I would have laughed if it hadn't been for the contraction that demanded my attention. Two contractions later another doctor arrived and they switched places. It wasn't until then that I realized the first doctor was not the on-call doctor that day. I found out later she had been paged from the clinic upstairs to come to the delivery because of how quickly I progressed. The second doctor that arrived, Dr. Grider, was on call and had been with another patient. She quickly jumped onto the stool between my feet and begin "stretching" me to make room for the baby and avoid a tear. Sally continued gently coaching me to breath as she and Tyler held my legs. Voices urged me to "push, push-push-push, push push, push-push-push" and I did, with everything I had. At one point it felt like everything I had wasn't enough. The voices got quieter, they hurriedly said Alivia's head was stuck on my pelvic bone. I heard them. I tried not to panic. Tyler and Sally moved my legs back; it felt as though I could have kissed my knees if I had turned my head. I felt a swift motion from the doctor (that I later found out was her moving the baby out with her fingers). It seemed like eternity passed and then I heard "her head is out, she's clear". I wanted to stop, to breath relief, but there was no time. I pushed again, hard. She was out. Seconds felt like hours before I heard the most perfect noise: a tiny baby cry. (Tyler later told me she had initially looked a bit blue and had taken a second to breathe, but it was likely due to having gotten stuck.) The nurse placed her on my chest and took my breath away. The world faded for a moment. Nurses and the doctor continued to hurriedly accomplish things, likely very important things, but it didn't compare to the tiny human resting on my chest.
Over the next hour we cuddled, and she practiced nursing.Then she cuddled her daddy skin to skin in order to get her body temperature up; due to concern she was a little cold. Tyler's warm body did the trick and she snuggled in for a nap; the beginning of many naps on his chest in the coming months. Time flew by and stood still all at once as we sat, smiled, cuddled, and rested. Alivia got checked and cleaned up by the nurses in the room to make sure she was healthy and before we knew it, we were escorted out of the delivery room as a family of three.
Tuesday, November 12th, approx. 6:30 pm
I felt like I had been having Braxton Hicks off and on throughout the day. Initially they felt exactly as the Braxton Hicks of the past week or so had felt. Though there was one point during the day where a few of them had been more uncomfortable, I truly thought nothing of it, chalking it up to being more tired and closer to Alivia's arrival. At home after work, as we was getting ready to leave, I noticed a need to change my clothes, because I honestly thought I had just peed in my pants a bit, but I again chalked it up to being closer to baby's arrival. I changed, got ready and we walked out the door.
We went at our friend's house for community group as usual. Meanwhile, though I did not realize at the time, my water had broken. It wasn't what I expected. I didn't have to mop the floor. I simply felt as though I had wet my pants a little, but somehow knew I had not. I later found out this was because I was not dilated very far. Anyway, I digress... at this point I quietly told my husband that we needed to leave and we headed home. We prepared and ate dinner together, cleaned up the kitchen, then I timed my contractions for the first time. They were about 3 1/2-5 minutes apart, lasting for 30-40 seconds. I texted my doula to check in and let her know what was going on. Her response was, "Okay, let me know when they are lasting a minute, and I'll see you in the next day or two." I decided that I should probably shower. At this point I still didn't fully realize my water had broken, and thought if this was false labor, a shower would potentially slow the labor, but if it was real, I should be clean because I didn't know when I would shower again, or how long this might last. I showered, dried my hair, threw on clean sweatpants and decided to time my contractions again. They had essentially not budged. At this point I begin to realize this was probably not going to stop. I decided that a nap might be helpful if this labor was going to last through the night. It was about 11pm.
Around 12:30 I got up, unable to sleep or even rest through the contractions any longer. I began to make sure the last minute things were packed, then went to sit on the couch with Tyler, who was up watching tv after picking up around the house. We watched television until the contractions consumed my focus and I was unable to be distracted while they occurred. I walked the hall, sat on my yoga ball, attempted to stretch and paced the house some more. About 2 am I timed my contractions again and they were lasting a minute and about 2 1/2 minutes apart. I was uncomfortable, but not miserable. Ty said he felt helpless and didn't know what to do. I called Sally, and updated her on their length. Tyler decided to jump in the shower, realizing that he did not know when he would be able to get away to shower again. Sally said that she would feed her baby and be on her way shortly. In the meantime, she told me to have Tyler call her when he got out of the shower so that she could help him help me. He called her a few minutes later, and then promptly set to work sitting behind me, rubbing my back, speaking softly, encouraging me, and simply asking what I needed.
Sally arrived around 3 am and helped me breath through contractions. She and Tyler sought to help me relax between them. I sat on the yoga ball but was having a hard time relaxing or resting. We moved to our bedroom where they propped up pillows on the bed so that I could sit on the yoga ball but lie my head down on the bed between contractions to rest. We continued with soft light, breathing and resting until about 5 am when we decided it was time to head to the hospital. Ty made coffee for he and Sally, then went to start the car. The moments it took to round up the last few things seemed like an eternity as I awkwardly sat, unable to do much to help, but also increasingly uncomfortable.
We headed to the hospital, Sally following in her car. The ride was far less than pleasant, as I prayed that God would just allow me to have less contractions in the car. He answered. In reality, I had about half of the amount of contractions I should have for the length of time we were in the car- according to the rate they had been previously coming. Some say that's normal, I was just grateful.
We arrived at the hospital and headed up to labor and delivery to check in. The contractions quickly resumed their previous vigor. I signed in, answering questions between contractions and was directed to the room. The nurse was patient as I got settled in, asking Tyler as many questions as she could, and waiting for me to be able to answer questions when she needed me.
5:40am
The nurse said it was time to check me. "Oh good" I thought, "hopefully I'm at an '8'". The next words from the nurses mouth were not what I wanted to hear, "you are about a 1". What? How could this be? This, this.. was uncomfortable and exhausting. This was intense. I looked at Sally and said "I can't do this for the next 6 hours" presuming... if I was only at a "1" that's how long it may easily take. Her reply, "you don't have to do it for 6 hours, you have to do this one" was exactly what I needed in that moment.
The next two hours are a blur. I sat on a yoga ball, tried different positions in the bed, and worked to breath through contractions. They were intense. Sally stood at the end of the bed, coaching my breathing, while Tyler held my hand, and gently said all of the right things, exactly the way I needed him to say them. About eight o'clock that morning I told Sally and the nurse that I had to go to the restroom. I got up and slowly walked to the bathroom. The door closed, and then someone knocked and it opened again. Sally appeared asked if I needed to go number one, or two. Confused, and embarrassed, I whispered "two". She quickly replied, "you don't have to go to the bathroom, you are ready to have this baby". She helped me up and walked me back to bed, while calling to the nurse "she needs to be checked". The nurse hurried over and a moment later with surprise, she declared that it was time to have a baby. She called for the doctor and a flurry erupted. Nurses with carts and tools appeared, whispering and standing in corners of the room. I felt like the urge to push. My primary nurse told me to wait, that the doctor was coming. I didn't think I could. I half-jokingly told the nurse that she might be delivering a baby. Sally stepped close and gently told me that I could wait, and we could still make progress so that when the doctor arrived it would go more quickly. She coached me to alter my breathing and fight the urge to push with a deep, guttural groan that could help move the baby along. What seemed like forever was merely moments as the flurry of nurses continued in the background.
8:20am
I heard the clicking and clacking of high-heels running down the hallway of the hospital, and the door burst open. In a motion that seemed almost movie like, a doctor ran in, wearing 4 inch heels, threw off a white fur vest, and was assisted into her gloves, mask and medical scrubs. She quickly landed on the stool with wheels and slid across the floor of the delivery room, arms outstretched, pronouncing "let's have a baby". I would have laughed if it hadn't been for the contraction that demanded my attention. Two contractions later another doctor arrived and they switched places. It wasn't until then that I realized the first doctor was not the on-call doctor that day. I found out later she had been paged from the clinic upstairs to come to the delivery because of how quickly I progressed. The second doctor that arrived, Dr. Grider, was on call and had been with another patient. She quickly jumped onto the stool between my feet and begin "stretching" me to make room for the baby and avoid a tear. Sally continued gently coaching me to breath as she and Tyler held my legs. Voices urged me to "push, push-push-push, push push, push-push-push" and I did, with everything I had. At one point it felt like everything I had wasn't enough. The voices got quieter, they hurriedly said Alivia's head was stuck on my pelvic bone. I heard them. I tried not to panic. Tyler and Sally moved my legs back; it felt as though I could have kissed my knees if I had turned my head. I felt a swift motion from the doctor (that I later found out was her moving the baby out with her fingers). It seemed like eternity passed and then I heard "her head is out, she's clear". I wanted to stop, to breath relief, but there was no time. I pushed again, hard. She was out. Seconds felt like hours before I heard the most perfect noise: a tiny baby cry. (Tyler later told me she had initially looked a bit blue and had taken a second to breathe, but it was likely due to having gotten stuck.) The nurse placed her on my chest and took my breath away. The world faded for a moment. Nurses and the doctor continued to hurriedly accomplish things, likely very important things, but it didn't compare to the tiny human resting on my chest.
Over the next hour we cuddled, and she practiced nursing.Then she cuddled her daddy skin to skin in order to get her body temperature up; due to concern she was a little cold. Tyler's warm body did the trick and she snuggled in for a nap; the beginning of many naps on his chest in the coming months. Time flew by and stood still all at once as we sat, smiled, cuddled, and rested. Alivia got checked and cleaned up by the nurses in the room to make sure she was healthy and before we knew it, we were escorted out of the delivery room as a family of three.
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