The birth of Gracie

Quick disclaimer: If you don't like birth stories, you should probably not read this post. I love them, and I want this written down for my own record... so here it goes. :)

Three weeks till due date: 2 cm dilated, 50% effaced, baby at 0 station
Two weeks till due date: 3 cm dilated, 70% effaced, baby at 0 station
One week till due date: 3 to 4 cm dilated, 70% effaced, baby at 0 station
The morning of my due date: 4 cm dilated, 80% effaced, baby very low (ie, +1 station)

On February 22 I woke up at about 4 am feeling some Braxton Hicks that were a little more convincing than any previous ones I had experienced. They weren't coming very often so I didn't worry about it much. I woke up and took a shower, getting ready for my doctor's appointment. At my appointment the doctor talked a little bit about getting induced, and I told him I was pretty sure today was the day, so he let it go... but wanted me to call him later to let me know if I had changed my mind. He was concerned that the baby was getting pretty big and didn't want me to have to worry about the possibility of having a c-section.

My contractions had more or less stopped, so Scott went to school. My mom, Nate, my friend and I all went for a little walk at about 9:30 am. I felt pretty good, and only had very minor contractions every 20 minutes or so. They didn't even make me stop walking. We walked about a mile and half. Then, Nate was tired of walking... and my back and sciatic nerve were too. My friend had recently had her baby and we talked about how this must be the putter labor. I thought, okay, I guess things will go nice and slow this time around.

I was still having a few contractions throughout the morning, and they were starting to get a little stronger and a little closer together... so I called Scott and told him it would be nice to have him home with me... just in case things started to speed up. He got home at about noon.

By the time Scott got home I was having a contraction about every 12 minutes. They weren't really painful and I would just breath through them without too much stress. I decided I wanted to have a distraction so we played our new favorite card game, Dominion, for several hours. My contractions slowly went from 12 minutes, to 8 minutes, to 6 minutes... and then to 4 minutes apart. By about 4:30 pm they were up to 4 minutes apart... but sometimes more and sometimes less. They only lasted about 30 seconds... so I was still not sure how "real" this all was.

Scott and I decided to go for a walk to see if that would change things at all. We went to the park and walked about a mile... but my contractions were getting much closer together... still not too strong. By this time they were sometimes as little as 2 minutes apart. I thought it might be a good idea to head back home...

When we got home, we decided that these contractions were getting pretty close together and it might be nice to think about when we would go to the hospital. So, we gathered up our little family and had a prayer, and drove the 1.1 miles down the road to the hospital.

On the ride there, they started to slow down, and I wasn't sure if we were possibly going too soon. Things really weren't painful at this point. I just had to focus a little bit and breath through them.

I should mention in here that Scott and I had decided to try for a natural birth this time around. After Nate's birth, I thought, you know, I think I can probably do this... We had both been reading the Bradley Method books (Scott's was the edition with no pictures). From everything I was reading, I was pretty confident I could do it, but I wasn't completely committed to it.

Okay, so back at the hospital. We get in our room and it seems that my contractions have pretty much stopped. "Oh, man... we came too early" were my thoughts. I got into my gown, they put in the hep lock (an alternative to being attached to an IV pole) and the nurse checked me to see what I was dilated to, this is really what I was waiting to hear... and I was at a 5. I was a little surprised that I wasn't dilated any bigger, but that's okay. We'll take it... we're half way there, right?

We got settled in at about 6 pm. Then things started to pick up. I wanted to walk around, because that seemed to be the position that was the easiest on my body. So, I paced around our room for a few contractions, and then all of a sudden they started getting really intense and really close together. Like every 2 minutes, only this time... I was feeling some pretty good "pressure".

I quickly went from pacing the room during the contraction to doing some kind of squatting-bum shaking dance on the side of the bed. That pressure I had been feeling earlier suddenly manifest itself on my tailbone and it felt like it a semi was driving back and forth over it. Somehow, the squatting-bum dance seemed to help. After about seven (maybe more, maybe less) of these and the thoughts that I was only at a 5... I told Scott I was going to wimp out and ask for the epidural. I felt so bad about it. He of course didn't put any pressure on me one way or another (seriously glad this guy is my eternal birth coach). It was about 7 pm by this time.

He went and told the nurse that (after ten minutes) my birth plan had changed and I wanted that epidural after all. They called for the anesthesiologist... and he took his dear sweet time. I asked the nurse to check me again, just in case things had progressed and I decided (again to change the birth plan) and not get the epidural after all. She checked and I was at an 8. This is the magic number that if you pass, you can't get an epidural.

It was at about this time that I started REALLY feeling it. Up till this point I could breath through the pain and somehow make it though. Now, they were so super intense. They wanted me to stay in bed so they could monitor me and all that jazz... I tried to most of the time, but a few times I jumped off the bed to do my new break moves. This was right before the epidural guy was going to put in the good stuff. He chewed me out a little bit and told me I had to hold very still and after I had the epidural in I couldn't pull any of those jumping-out-of-bed shenanigans.

He got to work and put the epidural in (and somehow I stayed sitting on the edge of the bed grabbing a hold of Scott's head in sort-of a headlock move. He said I could squeeze as hard as I wanted... and I did. I hesitate to put this in, but there was one point where Scott's ear was close to my mouth, and I almost bit him... not because I was mad at him, but because it was near my mouth and I probably should have had a stick to bite on like the movies. Thankfully, I decided to forgo the whole Mike Tyson thing and leave my poor sweetheart's ear alone.

The thought that the epidural was in and all would be well is the only thing that got me through the next ten minutes. I kept hoping things would stop hurting... but they didn't. It turns out, he missed whatever he was supposed to hit. Now that I had the epidural in, I had to stay in my bed... and I was determined to be a better patient. I would try and follow the rules. I was on my hand and knees doing my very best to imitate a moose's mating call. (I saw this comparison on another blog birth story and it just fits, so there's my giving credit where credit is due). I don't think I was "screaming" per say, but some might describe it that way. I was just breathing really heavy and sounds happened to be coming out too... or something like that.

At about 7:45 pm my moose imitation turned into me holding onto the back of the bed squatting and then... I wanted to push... so I did. I gave up on being a good patient. My poor nurse, I didn't like her much, but I didn't really make her job very easy either. She started frantically yelling to the Doctor, "She's pushing, she's pushing" (in a sort of, I can't make her stop, tone) and Scott said, "Good job, honey, you're doing great" (Love that guy).

The doctor asked what I was dilated to, and she informed him that she hadn't been able to really check me because I wouldn't lay on the bed long enough for her to see... again, I was not your ideal patient...

My doctor, who for the record, was awesome through everything asked if he could check me.. and I guess because I liked him better, I was obedient. I laid down just long enough for him to check me and then he said I could push if I wanted to. And my fondness for the guy grew.

I didn't waste any time. I pushed as hard as I could. I think maybe 5 times. The doctor knew I really didn't want an episiotomy so when I saw him glance at the scissors and kind of hesitate, I think I yelled at him to do it and get this baby out. Scott doesn't remember this part, so it could have just been in my head... I hope the moose call was also in my head...

After that, I pushed as hard as I could and out came the baby. They held her up and I could barely see part of the baby, and I called out, "It's a boy?!?"... No, it was a beautiful, healthy, baby girl with a full head of hair. They put her right up on my stomach and I loved her instantly. She cried and cried... and I loved to hear it. I couldn't believe how happy I was that she was a girl and that she was here. I knew I would have liked a girl, but over the past few days I've realized that I wanted her more than I let myself believe.

She was born at 7:55 pm weighing 8 lbs 7 oz, after only being in the hospital for about two hours. And to think I was worried that we had come too soon. My doctor had to stitch me up for a while, and had to use Novocaine since the epidural didn't work. It wasn't as bad as I had worried it would be. He did a great job, and I have to say, I have had the best recovery yet out of my three babies.

Scott and I were smitten with her from the beginning, and it is only growing. The boys love her too, and are practicing being "very soft".

That night I didn't sleep much. At about two in the morning I was laying awake in my bed thinking, "Wow, Heavenly Father has blessed me with the most wonderful little family I could possibly dream of having". At that moment, all I wanted to do was all be together, just our little family, and never leave each others sides. It is a wonderful, beautiful plan our Heavenly Father has prepared for us, and I'm thankful that I have a knowledge of it.