Twists and Turns, Joci's Birth Story Part IV

Both Jon and I agree, we're so happy with our decision to go with the Birth Center.   Lia's birth was great and all, but this time we actually got to take advantage of all those things that make midwifery so wonderful (except for the whirlpool, why didn't i use the whirlpool??).  I just love their approach to birth - that it's this normal, healthy process that (most times) will just take care of itself.  It's so much more laid back than the hospital, but they're mindful too.

For me, and with a normal, healthy pregnancy, I think hospitals are a tad excessive.  But I'm also not in to that whole freebirthing movement where I'd go out for a walk in our woods or something and come back home carrying a baby.  The Birth Center's middle of the road approach seems to be right up my alley.  But I also understand that not everybody feels the same way and I'm totally cool with that.  All I know is I'm so incredibly grateful that we ended up in this part of Maryland and that I was able to have my last two babies here.  It's really been a wonderful experience!

Throughout my labor the nurse and midwife were regularly checking my blood pressure and pulse, as well as the baby's heartbeat.  But it was only a few minutes each time, and I didn't have to be tied down to a bunch of different machines beeping and humming all around me.  I'm so grateful the midwife and nurses were around though, because there were a few, er, twists, to Joci's birth.

She loves the swaddle!

First of all, the cord was around her neck.  Thankfully, it wasn't tight and I realize this is actually very common in births.  But I'm just relieved that if it had to happen to one of my babies, it wasn't the one that was I was catching in the front seat of the car.  Susannah actually asked me to stop pushing once Jocelyn's head was out so she could determine how to maneuver the baby around the cord.

There was also a true knot in the cord.  We're guessing it had been there a long time because if you even loosened it a little it immediately went back to it's shape.  This could have been a little more serious and is one of the reasons they recommend moms do kick counts.  I never took that aspect of pregnancy very seriously, but there was one night a few weeks ago that I noticed I hadn't felt the baby move in a couple of hours.  I called the midwife and then laid down and prayed over my belly.  Thankfully, Baby Girl got the hiccups before the midwife had a chance to call me back.  It was a scary evening and a reminder of all the things that go on in my womb that I may not be aware of.  I'm  just thankful that God watches over even our unborn children.

Our little blondie.

Finally, and then I promise I'll stop talking about Joci's cord, it was super long.  They say that active babies tend to have longer cords and Girlfriend was definitely my most active baby!  As a result of all that tugging and pulling she earned herself a herniated belly button.  In other words, the Little Miss has a major outtie.  Good thing she won't need to wear a bikini anytime soon.

But all these things are no big deal because our daughter is just beautiful and perfect.  She never cried after being born.  She just laid on my chest and blinked her big, blue eyes.  She's the blondest of our babies and I personally think she has a bit of a wave (dare I say curl??) to her hair.  She was also the least swollen and we think she might be our prettiest newborn, but that's hard to say.  She took to nursing right away (I'm serious, it just keeps getting easier and easier with each kid!) and didn't stop for a good 3 hours.  So of course, by the time we weighed her, she had already eaten everything I had to offer and pooped all over me and the blankets.

Okay, so this was only 12 hours after she was born and long before her hair was ever washed but don't you see those curls?!

Ironically, I had a little bit more trouble after the birth this time around.  There were some concerns about bleeding and blood clots.  Without going in to too much detail let's just say the midwife had to do some things that I didn't know could be done.  And the nurse practically jumped on my uterus a few times throughout the night to make sure it was contracting correctly.  And then there was the shot to my thigh.   And then a second shot in my other thigh a little bit later.  I mean, as if having a baby wasn't enough, I practically got beat up by the staff after she was born!  The only difference between the pain of labor contractions and the pain the midwife was inflicting on me was that I got to hold Joci in my arms with the latter.  And somehow concentrating on her sweet little face made things a bit more bearable.

Four hours old, ready to go home!

I was afraid they weren't going to let us go home but after they were assured that I was fine and that I knew how to take care of a newborn, they let us leave with our baby a little after midnight (which is why there are no "coming home" pictures).  And so, despite having a daytime labor, by the time I was able to take pictures it was completely dark.

Baby's first car ride.

We crept into the house and headed straight to bed.  I don't remember much about that first night.  I know I spent the better portion of it awake, but I did manage to get some sleep and by the time the "big" kids were up Joci and I were ready to greet them!

Her bee-bee.

Can I just say how weird it is to say "the three older kids."  I've said it a lot over the past 10 days and it still feels strange.  And, of course, it goes without saying that Julia is now huge.  I mean, I actually put her on the scale the day we came home because I was certain she had gained a few pounds in the 24 hours I hadn't seen her.  I guess it doesn't matter how old your last child is, when they lose their status as "baby of the family" they suddenly seem all grown up.

He was so excited!

Jack is totally into Jocelyn.  He'll say, several times a day, "her so cute!"  He loves to hold her (for like 30 seconds).  And he pretty much can't keep his hands off of her, or his face away from hers, or his Monkey from touching her little body.  Julia is all about the "bee-bee" as well.  She also likes to hold her and does this thing where she lifts her hands and wiggles her fingers when she wants a turn... and then screams and stamps her foot when she doesn't get her way.  But she's also very sweet with doling out kisses.

Surprisingly, Jude, the child who was most in to my belly while pregnant, wants the least to do with the baby.  In fact, he's still very interested in my belly - whether there's another baby in there, why my other two "little bellies" *cough, cough* are suddenly bigger, and where the door is that baby Joci came out of.  Oh, and while we're on the "kids say the darndest things" subject.  Jack was very disappointed that Joci's birthday is in July.  Apparently, he thinks her birthday should be in August (we had told him she could be born in July or August).  So he's requested that the next baby be born in August.  Yeah, I'm sure Jon will be all over that one.

Anyway, we're all adjusting well.  I'm a little surprised at how well my recovery has been.  They say that postpartum pains tend to get worse with each baby.  They were bad with Julia, like brought tears to my eyes a few times bad.  So I was prepared for the worst this time around.  The midwife even suggested pain killers if necessary.  But oddly enough, I've hardly felt a thing.  I think my sore thighs from all those lunges have largely outranked any other possible pains.

So yes, so far all is well.  I have a feeling I'm about to hit a wall soon.  Especially if Baby Girl doesn't start giving me more than 2 hour stretches at night.  But for now, in this moment, we are completely delighted with this cutie pie.  I wasn't sure how a fourth baby would be, I'm still not sure.  But I do know that the whole family is in love.  And with five of us spreading the love these past 10 days, well, that's a whole lot of lovin' going on up in here.  I really can't ask for more than that!

Husband-COACHED, Joci's Birth Story Part III

I've read "The Husband-Coached Childbirth" and I truly believe in the Bradley Method, but it doesn't exactly work for us.  As you may have remembered from previous birth stories, my husband tends to spend a good portion of my labors asleep.  It's not entirely his fault.  It seems I always end up laboring in the middle of the night.  So we were pretty enthusiastic when it appeared that this would be a day-time baby.  And yet, we both ended up falling asleep anyway.

So there we were, sitting in a now-dark room, listening to the rain beat against the windows.  I was thinking about how much I didn't want to go back to the house, and how much I just wanted to have this child.  And Jon was thinking about how much he didn't want to go back to the house only to end up turning around and coming right back again.  So we decided to rally and give it our best shot.  When the midwife came back in we asked if we could stick things out and maybe hit the stairs.  Since she was  in the thick of the labor next-door (that unlike ours, from what we could hear through the walls, was progressing right along) she was fully supportive and even demonstrated her recommended move - lunges on the steps.

So that's we we did for a little while.  Me lunging, two steps at a time, and Jon standing close by in case I suddenly lost my balance.  Then we decided to take a few laps around the office.  So I started pacing the hall and circling the waiting room.  Meanwhile, the thunder is growing louder and the lightening flashing closer, and the lights in the Birth Center actually flickered off for a hot second.  We were finally starting to get somewhere with contractions and Jon decided he'd man the Contraction Master phone app.  So he pulled up a stool and put himself in charge of pushing the button whenever I would tell him a contraction started and ended.

And then his athletic side really started to come out and he suggested I throw in a few lunges every couple of rounds.  At this point he was thoroughly enjoying the spectacle and thought 10 jumping jacks might be helpful too.  And, being the submissive wife that I am, or perhaps just a desperate mom in semi-labor, I thought it sounded like a good idea too.  So for the next 30 minutes I'd speed-walk a few rounds in the office, do lunges the whole way down the hallway, and finish off with 10 jumping jacks.  And since there is no shame in childbirth, I'll even share this video my thoughtful husband decided to capture.
Contractions were down to three, sometimes two, minutes apart.  But, as I explained to the midwife, I didn't feel like they were doing much.  I wasn't "in the zone."  I mean, Jon and I were laughing and joking the entire time.  It definitely wasn't serious labor.  I was starting to get tired and I didn't want to physically exhaust myself before labor had even started.  So we headed back to our room to meet back up with the midwife.

At this point she offered to "check" me.  We had been putting it off all day because my water had broken and we had to be extra-careful about introducing bacteria or anything.  But after 15 hours of a limp-along-labor we were all a little curious.  So she checked ... and said I was wasn't dilated at all.

Seriously, I wanted to punch a wall.

Then she said, "Oh, no, wait.  You're just really posterior.  You're a 4, almost a 5."

I was immediately relieved to hear that I was indeed somewhat progressing.  And then I was frustrated, yet again, that I was only 4 centimeters and probably should be at home finishing up those last few meals I wanted to put in the freezer.

This was right about the point where the castor oil kicked in.

Which was quickly followed by the mom next door actually giving birth.  Jon and I could hear her screaming through the wall.  (And I say that in a non-judgemental way because I'm sure she could hear me screaming later that night.)  Then it got quiet, until we heard the baby cry.  And then I wanted to cry too because (a.) other people having babies always makes me cry and (b.) I was so ready to have that experience myself.  So it was back to the pump.  And soon things were really crack-a-lackin'.  I stopped pumping when contractions were around 2 minutes apart.  Then I laid on my side in bed and that, my friends, is when I entered "the zone." I really wanted to stay upright but things were getting downright painful, so the nurse brought me a birthing stool and I sat by the edge of the bed draped over a pile of pillows.

Eventually, I had to start moving.  This is also the point where I got really cold and was shivering so I wrapped myself in a blanket and started pacing the room, back and forth.  Another one of my favorite midwives stopped by to say hi, right in the middle of a contraction, so I could barely be civil towards her.  A little after 7:00pm contractions were about every 1.5 minutes and lasting almost a minute long.  In other words, I just barely had time to catch my breath in between them.  This was also the time when I told Jon he could stop timing them.  I was starting to feel some pressure with each one and I was trying to think back to Julia's labor and when I had felt the same, to gauge how close we might be to the end.  The midwife checked me again and I was 7 centimeters, almost 8.  Not good enough.  Not ready yet.  But for the first time that day she had to drop her doppler a couple of inches to check the baby's heartbeat.  So the good news was Baby Girl had finally started her descent.

After she checked me I decided I'd just stay in bed.  The nurse stuck around and Jon started massaging my back.  Which was glorious because after four babies, this is the first time I've gotten a back massage out of one of my births!  I think this is the point where I probably started to get loud.  I'm generally a calm laborer but, man, things get intense at the end.  And then my hands went numb.  And I was so incredibly happy because that has happened to me every time I hit transition and I had been waiting 16 hours for that moment to happen again.

Soon, very soon, I started feeling the urge to push.  Susannah came in, checked me out and said she didn't see the baby's head yet.  A few more contractions, and I'm still feeling the urge to push.  And so my body started pushing and she didn't tell me to stop.  She asked Jon if he wanted to catch.  He politely declined.  And in just another moment our daughter was lying on my chest, arms and legs squirming, lips pursing and eyes slowly blinking, taking in her new world.  She was beautiful and perfect.  And I was never more relieved in my life!

SaveSave

Did I Just Pee My Pants?! Joci's Birth Story, Part II

I thought I knew what to expect this time around.  My labors have went from 24 hours, to 13, to 9.  And the amount of time between transition and the actual birth has gotten considerably shorter with each baby as well (as evidenced by our last birth).  So I was anticipating a 5-6 hour labor this time around and the midwives, Jon and I had all agreed we would head to the Birth Center soon after contractions had started.  I was so nervous about not making it in time.  My concern couldn't have been more unnecessary.

I had other concerns as well, namely, childcare for the other kids.  Our parents were committed to coming down when labor started and then sticking around a few days to get us all back on our feet.  But the real question was whether they could make it down in time.  Which is why we had invited Kylee down the week of the baby's due date, just for that extra measure of security if I did go in to labor, and for a fun distraction if we were still waiting (we had big plans for trips to the mall, wedding projects, and lots and lots of walking this week!).

I was also worried about work, when and if I should stop taking assignments so that I wouldn't end up having a baby in the middle of one.  And finally, I was worried about clearing "birth a baby" off our schedule in enough time to start focusing on the upcoming family wedding.  And perhaps, in all my vanity, the whole idea of fitting in to a bridesmaid dress has been occupying my thoughts as well.  Obviously, there were just too many things out of my control.  I had no choice but to turn it all over to God and trust He could work out my agenda just fine.  No surprise there, He certainly has.

Because soon after succumbing to the post-kitchen-frenzy exhaustion, I awoke with a start.  It was 3:45am and, I thought, I had just peed my pants.  I jumped out of bed as fast as a fully-pregnant, just-awakened, trapped-in-my-pillow-nest woman could manage, and ran to the bathroom to determine what exactly had happened.  My water broke early (before labor started) with Jack, and while this was very similar, since it only occurs in about 10% of pregnancies I thought my chances of it happening again were slim to none.  But it didn't take long to determine that it was indeed amniotic fluid and not pee.  And it also didn't take long to realize that a baby wouldn't be following this water-breaking as quickly as Julia had arrived after hers.

I decided to try to go back to bed.  But it's kinda hard to sleep when you know that your body is about to go in to labor at any moment.  So I decided to get up, find something to eat and finish editing my transcription assignment, which was one item I was able to check-off my list of concerns.  It also just so happened that both Uncle Jared and Kylee were sleeping at our house that night - so childcare issues were taken care of.  And as things stood at 5:00am, there appeared to be no danger of not arriving at the Birth Center on time.

But just in case things suddenly took a different turn, I decided now would be the best time to get myself ready to meet our little girl.  Shower, shave, make-up, final packing of the bag and that was right about the time the kids started waking up.  I'd done my best to be very quiet to ensure Jon got a full night's sleep in preparation for the big day.  But at the slightest stir that morning, I got to wake him up (for the second time in his life) with the exciting news.  "Ready to have a baby today??"

Contractions were still extremely mild and not at all regular.  But since I was Group B Strep positive (yet again), I knew I would need to come in at some point for antibiotics.  I waited until after 8:00 to give the midwife a call.  Ironically, the one midwife I hadn't seen this pregnancy happened to be on duty that day - Susannah.  I remembered her from my Julia appointments though and I was excited to know that she would be the one taking care of us that day ... and hopefully catching our baby!  Susannah was headed to the Birth Center to meet another mama and said once she got settled in to come on over to check on the baby, start antibiotics, and decided where to go from there.

39 weeks, 1 day, full of anticipation!

So we took our time getting around.  Jon cleaned the kitchen, I got thing organized for the kids.  Eventually we realized we were half an hour later than what we had told the midwife and decided it was time to head out.  The drive to the Birth Center was entirely different than with the last baby.  We actually were able to stick to the speed limit.  And since things were still not progressing and we assumed it would be a long day, we decided to stop at the grocery store and load up on some vittles.

We spent almost our weekly grocery budget on snacks for labor... oops.

Susannah met us at the door and we went downstairs to the office area to start a non-stress test.  I sat in the recliner for 20 minutes listening to our sweet girl's heart beat and watching the machine register contractions so minuscule even I wasn't feeling them.  Then it was time for the antibiotics.  We were hoping one dose would be enough but just in case, I would keep the hep lock in all day.  Unfortunately, getting it in the first time proved much harder than we thought.  The midwife messed it up once, and the nurse messed it up twice.  By the fourth attempt I was starting to feel nauseous and lightheaded, but it finally worked.  I still have bruises on both my arms and hands from the previous attempts.

Since contractions still weren't anything to write home about, we decided to discuss some options to get labor going.  Originally, I was just going to go home and try some things out there, but after talking over the last birth we decided maybe I should stick close to the Birth Center (we were still so hopeful early in the day)!  The first was suggestion was castor oil.  There was no juice to mix it in so the midwife dug up a Pepsi for me to chase it down with.  Ugh.  Nothing like drinking straight up oil - thick, warm and disgusting.  I was more than thankful to polish things off with the Pepsi.

View from my bed, it's ingrained in my mind.

Since the other mom was in the room I had Julia in, we got our second choice.  Not that it really matters.  We went with the room that had a whirlpool tub but I never ended up using it.  The room was nice and spacious, which was good when I started pacing the floor (hours later).  The midwife brought in some labor tincture (the first of two different concoctions I tried that day) with instructions to take a gulp every 10 minutes, hold it in my mouth for 10 seconds and then swallow.  And then she carried in our old friend the breast pump.  For those of you that may not know, that can induce labor as well.  Of all the things we tried it was the most effective that day.

So I set to work pumping while trying to distract myself with a book and Jon started playing the first of several hundred rounds of Mah Jong on his iPad.

Surprisingly, the castor oil never really "did it's thing" (if you know what I mean).  But with the pump I was able to register some regular contractions about 5-7 minutes apart.  Eventually, pumping got old and I got tired.  So I decided to lay down and take a rest, maybe a nap.  But as I was laying there drifting off I realized that contractions had once again slowed to almost nothing.  This was the point where I started to wonder if maybe another car birth wouldn't be so bad.

I wasn't the only one falling asleep.  We were literally bored to death.

I started to feel guilty for not doing my part in helping my body go in to labor.  I mean, for heaven's sake, the least I could do was to remain upright so that the baby could at least be directed downwards!  We decided some walking was in order.  We had a whole hour before I was due for a second dose of antibiotics.  Since it was unbearably hot outside, we decided to drive back to the grocery store (the closest place with air conditioning and plenty of room to walk) to pace the aisles and get caffeinated (which the midwife assured me was not a big deal at THIS point).  Anything to get this girl moving I guess.

It wasn't until we were standing in line at the Starbucks counter that I realized I was in a crowded grocery store, on a Saturday, with a needle in my arm and gobs of colostrum stuck to my dress, about to walk up and down the aisles while getting my mocha frappucino fix.  Two words: hot mess.

But the walking helped and by the time we left Safeway contractions were about 5 minutes apart again.  Of course, much to my dismay, they nearly stopped again once we returned to our cozy room at the Birth Center.  The midwife came in to check on us and start another round of antibiotics, something that we had all thought wouldn't be necessary earlier that day.  And then we started to talk about what we'd do in another four hours.  One thing I appreciate so much about the Birth Center is that they don't rush you.  This birth was very much the same as Jack's, except I didn't have a doctor breathing down my neck the whole time, forcing the pitocin, reminding me that I needed to deliver within 24 hours OR ELSE ...  The midwife wasn't at all concerned with how long it had been since my water had broke.  And if she wasn't, I wasn't going to worry either.  So we decided that maybe we would just head home and wait things out there.  Susannah was going to send another dose of antibiotics home, with instructions on how to administer the IV, so that we could take care of the 8:00 dose on our own, and wouldn't need to return until midnight.  And that's when I realized that, if the midwife wasn't interested in seeing us for at least another 8 hours, I just may not be having a baby today.

While she left the room to get the IV bag, Jon started cleaning up all his stuff, and I sat on the bed thinking about how I was going to explain to my kids, when we got home, why Mommy's hands were empty and her belly still full.  It was right about this time that it started to thunder and soon rain was streaming down the window panes.  It all suited my mood so perfectly ...

Cooking Up a Storm: Joci's Birth Story, Part 1

All I can say about my final week of pregnancy is that God was very gracious to me.  There are just certain days or weeks where I'm extra-aware that I'm only getting on by the merciful hand of God.  The kids still misbehave, still trash my house, still go bonkers every evening between dinner and bedtime, but somehow we get through okay.  And also somehow other things still get done, even when you're largely pregnant and lacking in stamina and range of motion.  And that was last week - the week of getting things done.  It should have been my first sign, that final burst of energy and ability to actually clean my house.  We vacuumed, dusted, and mopped our way from top to bottom.  And then stood back and watched the kids mess it all up again.  But at least I knew that somewhere under all those toys, couch cushions, and socks (Lia has been bringing me socks several times a day and then just leaving them around the house) is a clean floor.

We really ticked things off the to-do list.  Jon got the baby goods out and the boys had fun pretending the little bathtub was a boat and the carseat a rocket ship.  And Lia's doll tested out all bouncy seat and swing.  And I got so overwhelmed with noise, and baby gear, and hyper children careening around my freshly-cleaned living room that I decided a trip to the mall for soft pretzels and lemonade was in order.  Then again, over the past few weeks soft pretzels and lemonade are always in order.

It's funny, after Julia was born I thought my days of running errands with the kids were over, especially after that first (and last) trip with three to Wal-Mart.  But over time I've grown more bold, or perhaps more desperate, and the prospect of having four under five soon has driven me out of the house more and more often recently.  Not that these trips go well, in fact, they usually don't.  I've completely sworn off taking the kids to the library anymore.  And every time I work up the courage to drag all three to the grocery store I spend the whole trip home scolding myself into never trying it again.  Which is what we did on Friday.  Jon was going up to Baltimore that night to help Jared and Kylee move in to their new apartment, and then he'd be golfing all Saturday morning.  So it was grocery shopping with the kids on Friday or not at all.

We actually did two grocery stores this weekend.  I wanted to make sure the kitchen was good and stocked for my planned cooking frenzy and then hopefully to get us through the week.  Just like everything else I do now - cleaning the bathroom, picking up groceries, mopping the floors - I wonder if it will be my last chance for a while.  I think Jon is feeling the same way, which is why he scheduled a golf outing for Saturday morning.  Me: "Do you really think that going golfing again (and subsequently leaving me alone with the kids on my potentially last Saturday pregnant) is a good idea?" Jon: "That's why I'm doing it!"

Ice cream cones, because Daddy was away and Mommy was desperate to get through the post-dinner-bonanza.

So anyway, while Jon was out in Baltimore Friday night and the kids were all sleeping soundly in their beds, I turned on "27 Dresses" in the kitchen and set to work stocking my freezer with some meals and baked goods.

And while Jon was out golfing the following morning I busted out the sewing machine and finished up Julia's flower girl attire and Joci's wedding day romper (all while trying to bat Julia's hands away from the sewing machine).

And during nap time I typed up a transcription file and finished the baby favors.  And that afternoon, I donned the maternity swimsuit (that doesn't really fit anymore) and the kids and I danced through the sprinkler.

Not a fan of the sprinkler ... and not a fan of mommy in the sprinkler either.

And then that evening, after we put the kids to bed, I set to work trying to finish off a few more meals.  At 9:30pm my kitchen looked like this:

But somehow I managed to finish it all up, put 20-some meals/side-dishes in my freezer, and have the kitchen clean by 11:00.

For those that asked, here's the list of recipes we'll be enjoying over the next few weeks (most of these were suggested at from www.onceamonthmom.com: 

Gingery Chicken with Peaches
Maple Dijon Chicken
Peach and Mustard Grilled Pork Chops
Overnight Oatmeal
Fried Couscous
Quinoa Summer Salad
Cool as Beans Salad
Steak Fajitas with peppers and onions
Stuffed Peppers (and leftover filling for burritos)
Turkey Quinoa Loaf
Baked Fish, Tomatoes, and Spinach foil packets
Quinoa and Kale Crustless Quiche
Creamy Tomato Basil Pasta
Balsamic Chicken
Clementine Pound Cake (okay, this one didn't make it to the freezer, it was too stinkin' good!)

Of course, I was aching by that point.  My back was sore, the "prankles" were out of control, and the Braxton-Hicks were doing their thing.  But I was happy.  Glad to feel a little more prepared for Baby's arrival, excited for church the next day, looking forward to meeting Uncle Tom and Aunt Carol at their sailboat for lunch, and anticipating an evening of fun at a potluck with our new church small group in the evening.  For the first time in a while, I felt like I had everything under control.  I collapsed into bed, so ready for a long-deserved rest, never thinking things were about to take a very different twist only a few hours later.