Bringing Home Baby

This post is brought to you by my left hand, as my right hand is currently cradling the sweetest little lump of baby girlness you've ever seen.  I love that I can hold all of her with just one hand.  And if I angle my back just right, she can perfectly rest on my chest with no hands.  Which means I can get loads of things done ... as long as they don't require moving at the torso.

Photo Credit: Uncle Micah

But I'm not complaining.  This phase is so short-lived, so fleeting.  I want to soak up every bit of snuggly, sleepy, brand new baby-ism she has to offer.  And since she's already gained 11 ounces this week and is stretching out her newborn clothes, it doesn't appear that this one-handed chest-snoozing is going to last very much longer.

Five hours old and happy as a lark!

But back to where I left off, exactly one week ago today.  We got home a little after 5:30am and made sure we made enough noise coming in the house to "accidentally" wake up Marmie and Poppa.  Jon was exhausted and ready for a nap.  But after a long night of labor I was ready for some breakfast.  So I chowed down some oatmeal while Julia got passed around and Jon shared his version of the birth story, which continues to get more and more funny as the days go by.

Poor Jon, it was a rough night!

I think my favorite aspect of using a birth center is that you are allowed to leave so soon.  I know many mamas like to stay in the hospital and relax, but I'm just not one of them.  I hated staying in the hospital when I had my two boys.  Being able to spend our first night as a family of five in our own beds was so wonderful!  Nobody is waking me up every few hours and push on my gut, or check my blood pressure, or give me a cup of pills.  And the meals that Marmie has been cooking up in the kitchen are ten times better than any "celebration" meal the hospital serves.

Jon and I just got up from our nap.  This photo describes Jude's sentiments exactly (but more on that later).

Of course, being home so soon has its disadvantages too.  I couldn't figure out why I was so much more tired and uncomfortable this time around than in the past.  But then I would remember that I was still laying in a hospital bed at this point, with no little boys begging to be carried, no laundry baskets that I would forget I shouldn't be carrying, no steps to climb up and down.

Bright-eyed and busy-tailed.

The first few days were a little rough.  What they say about the after-pains is true: it definitely gets much worse with each baby.  The two days following Julia's birth felt very much like labor.  And with each "contraction" I'd get an intense pain in my hip that made it almost impossible to stand.  But by Day 3 things were much, much better.  And now a week later I feel almost completely normal, except for that whole just-got-punched-in-the-gut feeling.  But that is getting better too.

Photo Credit: Uncle Micah

A few hours after we got home we had to take Julia to a pediatrician.  Because I had tested positive for Group B Strep prior to delivery, and because there wasn't any time to give me antibiotics before she was born, Julia was at risk for contracting GBS as well.  The pediatrician wanted to take a blood sample to test for Strep, but after a horrific experience in which I ended up crying in the hall while Jon took over with the baby ... we decided to forego the blood draw and just watch for respiratory distress over the next few weeks.  It has me just a little nervous.  The chances of her actually having GBS are quite low, but enough to have me worrying over every little sigh, breath and long span of quiet from our tiny sweetie.  When she's not sleeping on my chest she's in her bassinet, an arm's length away.  And I spend a good portion of the night with my hand on her chest just to make sure she's breathing.  Perhaps I'm a little paranoid.

Unfortunately, the three kids and I all caught colds this week.  Actually, Jack ended up with croup on Wednesday night and had to be taken to the emergency room.  It was a little scary.  It was 10pm, I was nursing the baby, Marmie was holding a scared-awake-and-crying Jude and Jon was trying to calm a panicking Jack who woke up with a cough that quickly progressed to wheezing.  Soon he was having trouble getting his breath.  Two and a half hours, a breathing treatment and some steroids later he was home and we all were in bed.  But neither Jon nor I slept well that night.  Thankfully, Jude and Julia only have colds and we haven't had any more of this croup stuff in the house.  Poor Baby Girl though, less than a week old and already dealing with a snotty nose. And so in addition to listening for her every breath all night, Jon and I also got to spend an entire evening sucking out her teeny, tiny nostrils and checking on her every cough and sneeze.

Photo Credit: Uncle Micah

Other than the cold and GBS she's just perfect.  She's my best nurser and best burper so far.  And while she started out more like a Jack than a Jude when it comes to night-time sleep, things are progressively getting better.  For the first few days Julia would only sleep if she was being held or nursed ... which meant some long nights for me and a sore back, neck, shoulders, arms, etc. for a few days.  But she's spent the past two nights sleeping soundly in her bassinet.  And while she is often up to eat every 2-3 hours, she's a fairly efficient eater.  Now if only my body could start regulating its temperature better and put an end to these crazy hot flashes, I (and my poor hubby) might start getting better sleep too!

So we are one week into this whole family of 5 thing and it's going really well... but we've also had lots of help.  I'm trying not to think about the fact that there are currently 4 (sometimes 5) adults doing what I will have to do by myself in a few days.  For now, I'm just enjoying the extra help and trying to take it easy.  We've been having loads of fun too though, taking full advantage of maternity and paternity leave.  But I'll save those stories and pictures for another time, when I get at least one hand free again.

Julia's Birth Story, Part III

Read the first two parts here.

The next 13 minutes were like a scene out of a movie.  The baby's car seat was directly behind my seat, which meant I couldn't recline.  So instead, with each contraction I planted my feet firmly on the floor, arched my back and gripped the back of the seat.  I was trying not to freak Jon out, but I also wanted to make sure he knew this baby's birth was imminent.  As soon as we pulled out onto the main road we got stuck behind two slow moving vehicles.  "Just pass them on the left!" I yelled, right before another contraction hit... and along with it the urge to push.  I spent the rest of the trip yelling, breathing and praying with everything I had in me that we would make it in time.

Jon was pushing 80mph, and we flew by two cops. Thankfully they didn't come after us because there was no way we could have stopped.  About halfway to the Birth Center (typically a 20 minute drive) my hands went numb.  This happened to me during transition with both my boys, moments before it was time to push.  I started shaking my wrists, hoping that if the numbness went away maybe I could put off this birth a little longer, while also praying "Oh God, not now, please let us make it.  Jesus please!!"  Meanwhile Jon kept saying, "You're doing fine, you're doing good.  She's not coming yet..."

At 1:13am my water broke.  Jon sped through the next red light and turned into the Birth Center parking lot.  I immediately noticed there were no cars in the lot and no lights on in the Center.  "Oh God, the midwife's not here!" I yelled.  And then my body started pushing and there was nothing I could do to stop it.  Jon asked if he should call 911.  "Yes!" I screamed, "It's coming!"  But I knew it was too late.  And so, as Ina May would say, I "let my monkey do it."  I never imagined I would deliver my own baby one day.  I'm not a doctor.  I don't have a midwifery background.  But I have had two other kids.  And when it really comes down to it, a mama just knows what to do.  So at 1:15am, as Jon was digging around in his pocket for his cell phone, I pulled down my pants and with one push her head was in my hands, just as the midwife's car pulled in next to us.  The baby immediately started crying and I felt sudden relief.  Jon yelled for Nikki to come quick and with the next push the baby's body was in my hands and the midwife was by my side.  She lifted my shirt and put the baby on my chest.  Then took off her coat and covered us both, while Jon grabbed the first thing he could find - my robe - and threw that over us as well.  It was 40 degrees out that night and imperative we keep the baby's temperature up. 

Baby was crying and breathing fine, the midwife was apologizing for not arriving sooner and I was apologizing for not holding her in a few minutes longer. Then we all took a look at one another and laughed with relief.  As Jon said, "I've never felt so alive!"  It was a crazy moment.

We needed to get the baby and I inside.  This is the part that makes Jon and I laugh the most.  I held the baby to my stomach and, with my pants around my ankles and the umblicial cord still connected, waddled into the Birth Center.  Someone asked if I was worried about anyone seeing.  Nope, definitely didn't cross my mind.  But thankfully the entrance to the delivery rooms is behind the Center and faces the woods.  Not to mention it was dark out. 

This is my "I cannot believe I just gave birth in a car" face.

The midwife prepped the bed quick and then Baby and I crawled in under the heated blankets.  I started shivering but I think it was more out of pure adrenaline than chill.  I still had no idea if I had given birth to a boy or girl, since I hadn't had a chance to look when she was born and had kept her on my stomach ever since.  So the midwife lifted her up for a quick peak and confirmed that we indeed had a daugther.  At the Birth Center they keep the baby attached to the umbilical cord until it stops pulsating.  So until then, she handed Jon some towels for a quick clean-up of the car.  I didn't see the mess we left behind, but this has been everyone's (especially the guys') first question.  According to Jon it "wasn't that bad."  He cleaned what he could while we were there and then gave the front seat a thorough detail job after we got home.

Julia was a clean baby too.  I have to admit, she's 4 days old and we haven't given her a bath yet.  I just haven't had the energy and I doubt she'd like it anyway.  But she was beautiful the moment she was born.  No blood, none of that white stuff.  She's pretty much just perfect!

After Jon got back and after he cut the cord and we delivered the placenta, we finally got a chance to rest.  They wait a few hours to weigh the baby, so that there is ample skin-to-skin time which helps regulate baby's body temperature and is good for bonding.  Besides, who wants to let go of their new baby?  After months of toting her around in my belly it felt so good to have her in my arms!  So Julia and I snuggled in bed for a few hours while Jon took a nap next to us.

Eventually the nurse came in to look her over and take footprints.  Julia weighed 7 pounds and was 20 inches long.  My tiniest offspring to date.  She was born at 38 weeks, 6 days according to my adjusted due date.  But according to the nurse she appeared to be about 40 weeks, 2 days.  So there went my whole due date theory.  In the end, it was probably still good that I pushed for a due date adjustment.  Otherwise I would have been measuring too far behind and probably would have needed to undergo some tests and observations.  As it stood, she was an average-sized, healthy baby whom I just "carried small." 

By law, the minimum amount of time you have to stay at a Birth Center is 4 hours.  The nurse said we could either leave at exactly 4 hours or we could stay and get some sleep.  I knew I would rest much better at home so we elected to be out the door at 5:15am.  All that's required is that Mom pees and takes a shower.  Check and check.  We went through some "education" - a talk on what to do, what not to do, what things to look for in both baby and mom over the next few days, and symptoms of Group B Strep (since I had tested positive and there hadn't been time to start antibiotics before the baby was born).  It was a lot of information, and I wish they would have written it all down because I was still a bit delirious and Jon slept right through all of it.  Then we loaded up the car, had our picture taken and were out the door by 5:20am.

Not-so-great pictures taken by the nurse, but it's all I've got.  Jon's still looking a bit shell-shocked.

We were home before the boys woke up.  They never even knew we were gone.  But it had been a crazy 12 hours.  We're just grateful it all worked out so well.  I'm a little disappointed that I didn't get to take full advantage of all the Birth Center amenities.  But I really can't complain about my delivery, it was definitely the easiest one yet!  Also, I really don't mind that I gave birth in the car.  I think some people are a little freaked out by the whole story.  Sure it's not typical and yes something could have went wrong.  But it didn't.  There were no IVs, no monitoring, no one telling me I was "this many" centimeters along... and it never really hit me that I was missing all that stuff.  And while it would have been nice if the midwife had been there a few seconds earlier, I'm just happy she arrived when she did.  If Jon had found his cell phone ear piece a moment sooner, he would have had 911 on the phone and we would have ended up being taken to the hospital for observation, and tests, and overnight stays, etc.  I definitely didn't want that.  So I guess in some ways the timing worked out perfectly.  We just continue to thank God for a safe birth and healthy baby and mama!

Would I do a Birth Center again?  Absolutely.  And I hope I will (but that is another conversation with my husband and probably not one we'll have for quite some time).  But next time I defiinitely will not let things go so long.  After three births I finally feel like I know my body well enough, I think I could get it right with a fourth try.  But that's next time.  For now, we're just going to enjoy this lovely little lady and all the surprises she's brought along with her.  And probably get a few more good laughs in over her crazy birth story!

Julia's Birth Story, Part II

About an hour after I hung up the phone with my Dad, contractions continued to come strong and regular, about 7 minutes apart.  I still didn't know if this was the real thing or not, but decided it wasn't worth taking a chance.  So at 7:30pm I called back and, as my husband would say, "activated 'Operation Grandparents.'"  They were in their car at 8pm with an ETA of 11pm.  And I said a quick prayer again that the timing would all work out perfectly.

I decided a hot shower was in order to (a) determine if this was real labor and (b) make sure I had nice, freshly shaved legs for my baby's birth.  The little guys were in bed by now so I took my time and thoroughly enjoyed the peace and quiet.  Well the quiet part for sure, I was only enjoying peace in between contractions, which were nearing 5 minutes apart at this time and becoming more and more intense.  It was clear this was the real thing, so I figured now was a good time to fix my hair and make-up.

I should say here that I was slightly disappointed when labor started in the evening ... again.  All of my kids have been born through the night.  It's exhausting.  And there's no one awake on Facebook or Twitter to cheer you on when the baby is born.  Just once I'd like to have a baby born during normal waketime hours, when I have the energy to actually handle an active labor.  But this was not one of those times.  I was quickly getting tired and decided to try to sleep in between contractions, while keeping an eye on my timer phone app.  Meanwhile Jon was watching TV - flipping between football and some crazy zombie movie. Which  made it even easier to just shut my eyes.

At around 9:30 contractions were consistently five minutes apart,and had been for over an hour, which is when the Birthing Center suggests coming in.  I knew my parents were halfway to our house and was still feeling pretty good.  So I sent up a few more prayers for "perfect timing" and tried to go back to sleep. 

At 10:45 I called the midwife to let her know where things stood.  Since the Birthing Center is not staffed in the evenings, you have to call an answering service, who then pages the midwife, who then calls you back.  I was happy to hear the voice of one of my favorite midwifes on the line and knew Nikki would be the one delivering my baby that night.  I had called her in between a contraction, explained that they had been coming every 4-5 minutes for over an hour now, but that I still felt really good in between.  She said it was totally up to me if I wanted to come in now, or just have some wine and take a hot bath and see if things kept progressing.  She sounded calm, I felt good, so I opted to stay at home a little longer and see where things went (sans wine and bath).  Instead I grabbed my water bottle and laid down on the couch.  A few minutes later my parents arrived and, after showing off all the new little outfits she'd found yard saling last weekend, my mom kept me distracted with a few bits of conversation in between labor pains. 

By midnight contractions were 3-4 minutes apart.  But they still felt the same and I just wasn't sure at what point to go in.  Jon had gone to bed earlier and my mom was sleeping in the chair.  I started thinking about my 24 hour labor with Jack and my 12 hour labor with Jude, and realized this one had already reached 7 hours.  I walked around the house a little while longer and that's when contractions started to really get intense.  At 12:42am I called the Birthing Center answering service again who paged the midwife.  I went upstairs to tell Jon that as soon as the midwife called back we were going in - put the bags in the car!  Instead, he rolled over and went back to sleep.  The midwife never called back.  Meanwhile I started feeling "pressure" with each contraction.  I knew we didn't have much time, so I waited exactly 15 minutes (12:57am), which is what they suggested in our class, and called back.  They connected me directly to Nikki who apologized for not getting the page and I cut her off with, "This is it, I'm ready to come in!"  She promised to leave right away and meet us there.  As I hung up there was another super-intense contraction that left me gasping for breath.  I yelled for Jon, who was still sleeping, that we needed to leave NOW! 

He threw the bags in the car and as I'm walking out the door I remembered my friend Megan's text from earlier saying, "Don't forget an 'on the way to the hospital pic' like you always do!" For a moment I considered calling Jon back in with the camera, but at the same instant another contraction hit and with it the all too familiar "ring of fire." I knew there was no time for pictures and quickly slid into the front seat. We backed out of the driveway at exactly 1:02am. As we started to leave I was suddenly hit with the thought "I should have grabbed a towel." But it was too late to go back. Another contraction left me barely able to stay in my seat and with just enough energy to gasp, "Oh God, please let us make it in time!"

Julia's Birth Story, Part I

I need to start out with an apology to my sweet daughter.  You mother did not do a good job documenting the hours leading up to your birth.  I want you to know that I had excellent intentions and the process perfectly planned out in my head.  But Baby Girl, since the start, you have had a way of foiling all our plans.  So I promise to do my very best with words, to cover what we didn't capture with a camera...

We had a lovely weekend.  It is October now.  The mornings are dark.  The air is chilly.  And the leaves are just starting to litter the lawn.  There's no doubt that autumn has arrived.  And the only thing better than a quiet fall evening, cozy at home with my little family is a quiet fall evening, cozy at home with my little family and pregnant.  Because being pregnant brings out all the homey-sentimental feelings in my soul.  And we lived autumn this weekend.

Jon had requested that the baby hold off a bit so he could relax and get some house projects done.  We made it through his training last week and although he still had some travel scheduled this Thursday, it wasn't a big deal.  I had a hunch that we might be meeting our daughter sooner rather than later.  But I also figured she wasn't done growing since I was still so tiny.  And it always seems to me that people who hope to have their babies early end up having them late.  So I tried not to think about it other than a few subtle hints just to keep Jon on his toes.

I had an agenda for this free weekend.  I had a to-do list on my desk to work through - switch out the boys' wardrobes, buy diapers, clean out the freezer, do all the ironing, etc. - but I also wanted to get out and have some fun as a family.  And by fun I mean eating barbacoa tacos at a kid-friendly restaurant where the music is loud enough to drown out my kids' shrieks.  Ah, yes, Chipotle.  How my pregnant-self loves thee.  Dinner was fabulous, the spices in my taco just perfect and my boys' a bucket of fun.  The best part was when the lady sitting next to us commented on how happy and content they were.  I couldn't respond at first, I was slightly stunned and I also had a just taken a big bite of taco, but my mama heart swelled with pride for a moment over my happy, content little guys... and how much I love being their mama.

On Saturday the boys were up early with cold fingers and toes.  So Jon threw them in our bed and we all did our best to warm up before breakfast.  Having the whole family in bed has nothing to do with sleep and everything to do with hiding under covers, tickling toes, wrestling Daddy and attempting to keep tumblers off Mama's belly.  We spent the day at home - Jon doing outside work and me cleaning the house and baking in the kitchen.  Jon said this should have been his first sign.

Jack at breakfast: "Look, I got a sister-belly!"

Along with Chipotle I've been craving soft pretzels all week.  What I really wanted to do with go to the mall and walk around with a giant soft pretzel and big fizzy drink.  But having two youngsters in tow kinda makes that plan unappealing.  So instead I made my own soft pretzels at home and browsed a few onlines shops, looking for some non-maternity must-have to treat myself with. 

There was one other treat I couldn't get off my mind this week - ham and cream cheese wrapped pickles.  I don't even like pickles.  But I couldn't stop eating these.  In fact, Jon made up a huge plate for lunch the next day and the whole family partook in their sweet, salty goodness.  Between the cooking, cleaning and satisfaction of my every craving, I was really feeling pregnant this weekend.

The only thing I didn't accomplish was some maternity pictures.  I really wanted some nice pictures this time around, since I never had any with the boys either.  I just kept putting it off until I could get bigger.  I even told myself when we got home from church that I should take one while I was all dressed-up.  But I decided I just wanted to get out of my dress and heels and would wait until I was really 39 weeks.  And then we ran out of time.  That's what happens when you always assume you have at least "one more day."

We had a pleasant Sunday afternoon.  The boys took a great, long nap and I decided to inventory my freezer and pantries to get a good idea of what kind of food we had in the house.  I was feeling very organized and so ready to have this baby.  Well, prepared I should say.  I'm not sure if I ever felt ready.  I was in the kitchen making dinner (along with my big helper, always-by-my-side second-born) when the first contractions started.

Now I've been having contractions for months now.  But these were immediately different.  They were low and sharp.  And reminded me of what the start of labor felt like with Jude.  But I just pushed it out of my mind and tried to focus on creating a meal ... a quite horrible, overcooked meal of boneless ribs I had dug out of the bottom of my freezer.  :)

My last belly shot, contractions while making dinner.

My family choked down my labor of love while I took a few time-outs for contractions.  I started watching the clock and they were coming in pretty regular about every 8 minutes.  And far more intense than I had imagined so early.  I finally told Jon I needed to take a break and focus on what was happening.  Then I headed up to the bedroom with a contraction timer and left him in the kitchen with two messy boys and a pile of dishes.  My dad called around this point to ask a question and before we hung up I reminded him, yet again, to make sure his bag was packed and have the phone ready because this might be the night (I can't tell you how many times I've tried calling my parents recently and neither of them answered their phones)!  My mom was busy making treats in the kitchen and promised to be ready when we were!

Our plan was to have Marmie and Poppa come down once labor started (a 3 hour drive) and hopefully have them arrive before it was time to head to the Birthing Center.  If that didn't happen soon enough we were going to have Uncle Jared, who was on his way home from New York City Sunday night, come stay at the house until they got there.  And if that couldn't happen we were just going to have to drag the kids along with us, which was fine with the midwives but not so appealing to me.  Timing was essential this time around.  My biggest prayer this pregnancy was for a smooth, perfectly-timed delivery.  We had no idea it would literally come down to the very last second!