Joanna's Birth Story

Almost all of the pre-labor symptoms I'd had (Braxton-Hicks contractions, pain in my cervix) completely stopped over the weekend. I was still in a lot of pain and had difficulty getting around, but, by Monday, I felt great. My body was less achy, and I was convinced that the upcoming birth was a while off.

Monday night (November 7), the contractions came back. There weren't many--maybe three--all evening, but they were more painful than before. I went to bed early just in case. Throughout the night, I woke up every half hour to two hours. I'd feel a few seconds of pain, and that was it. The baby was moving like crazy, and I had trouble sleeping. Oliver woke up every time I did, so Andrew had a restless night, too.

At 5am on Tuesday (November 8), I stopped trying to go back to sleep. I laid there and wondered if the contractions would lead up to labor. They were pretty painful, but they only lasted a few seconds. When I stood up, they increased in intensity, but not in length. I was experiencing contractions that lasted only about 10 seconds long every 4-5 minutes.

Oliver, Andrew and I all went downstairs at 6am for breakfast. I was confused about whether or not to call the midwife because my contractions were so short. However, they hurt so badly that I couldn't talk through them. I finally called her, and she told me to come in for an exam at 7:30am. My mother-in-law, Colleen, came over to watch Oliver while Andrew and I headed to the hospital. The drive was about thirty minutes. I only had two contractions during the drive. In between contractions, I thought that there was no way I was actually in labor, and I was wasting everyone's time. Their timing had slowed down, and they weren't lasting long. Then, a contraction would hit, and it hurt so much that I knew this was the real thing.

Andrew dropped me off at the ER entrance and left to find parking. As soon as I stepped out of the car, the contractions started to come much more frequently. By the time I was brought to my room, I started to have them about two minutes apart. My midwife looked at my face and said, "That is a woman in labor." She hooked me up to a monitor, and I learned my contractions were actually lasting a full minute each. I only felt about 10-15 seconds of them, though. Last week, I'd been dilated 3cm. At the hospital, I was dilated 5cm. I was admitted.

Because of everything that needed to be taken care of first, I didn't get my epidural until 9:30am. The last half hour of that was pretty excruciating. Getting the epidural wasn't painful, but getting the IV in my arm was awful. It was the worst part of labor, and I cried like a baby after the nurse dug into a vein for the third time and missed. Once the epidural kicked in, the pain stopped completely. I couldn't fall asleep, but I was able to relax and visit with my parents and my husband. My midwife checked me, and I'd dilated to 7cm. She predicted the baby would arrive by lunch time.

Lunch time came and went. I stayed dilated at 7cm for a couple of hours, but the most discouraging thing was that the baby wasn't dropping. She was at a -5 when she needed to be at a +2 to push. This is what happened at Oliver's delivery. My midwife started to talk about Pitocin. I wanted to yell, "No!" because Pitocin was the worst thing ever, and it didn't succeed in pushing Oliver down. Nothing did, until my doctor had let me try to push him down myself. I told my midwife that, and she responded kind of snippy. She said, "If you need Pitocin, then you need Pitocin." She said she'd be back in a little while to check me again to see if the baby would drop.

After my midwife left, I started to secretly push down (just a little) at the peak of some contractions. I couldn't feel the contractions, but I could see them on the monitor. When my midwife checked me next, she was thrilled at my progress--our baby dropped to -1! There was no more talk of Pitocin. As she felt my dilation, my water broke. I gently pushed down through a few more contractions.

At some point (I can't remember when because the day went by in a blur!), I needed to be given medicine for my low blood pressure. I'd been at increased risk of high blood pressure during delivery because of my increased HCG levels early in the pregnancy. That was not an issue! My blood pressure dropped low, and our baby's heart rate dropped in response. I was put on oxygen and given some sort of blood thickener (I believe).

Around 3pm, I could really feel the pain of the contractions through the epidural. I couldn't talk through them, and I felt like I needed relief. The anesthesiologist's nurse gave me a boost of medication. It took the pain away, and that was what I wanted. However, it also made me feel drowsy and nauseated. It numbed me a little too much, and I couldn't feel any pressure at all. That's when my midwife came back. She checked me and announced I was ready to push! She and a nurse quickly got things ready. I told them I'd need their help telling me when to push because I was completely numb. Right when the told me to, I needed to vomit. Andrew had to help me throw up in a vomit bag three times. Once I was done throwing up, the nurses told me to push. I pushed, and I could feel our baby's head. They told me when to push the second time, too. Then, they told me I just needed one more good push and to do it when I was ready. On that third push at 3:30pm, Joanna Elizabeth was born.

Jo was put on my chest immediately. I broke down in tears. Both times I've experienced childbirth, I've worried I wouldn't feel bonded to my baby immediately. Thankfully, that isn't a problem I've ever experienced. I felt a flood of emotion, but it was mostly love. She was beautiful. Somehow, she had dark hair, almond-shaped eyes, and even a cleft chin.

Andrew snapped this photo within minutes of delivery:

Five minutes or so passed, and my midwife asked Andrew to cut the cord. He did, and cut it cleanly with one slice (as he'd done after Oliver's birth). I held her and nursed her for her first hour of life. After that, Andrew got to hold her, and she was finally measured and weighed. Baby Jo weighed in at 7 pounds, 11 ounces and measured 20 inches.

It took longer for me to deliver the placenta. It didn't detach by itself, and my midwife had to manually remove it. I wonder if the reason it didn't detach was related to the bleeding I'd experienced earlier in the pregnancy. Perhaps not. As my midwife worked to dislodge the placenta, I was quite grateful I was still numb from the previous boost of medication from the anesthesiologist's nurse. If I hadn't been, I think that would have been the worst part of the entire labor and delivery. She quickly stitched up a "superficial tear" that I assume only required one stitch. I was quite pleased that I wouldn't have to deal with another 4th degree tear!

My legs regained feeling fairly quickly. After an hour, I was able to get up, walk, and use the washroom (albeit slowly and with help from the nurse). Shortly after that, we received our first visitors.

Here is our first family shot, which captures the first time Oliver met his baby sister:

Oliver was very cuddly and didn't want to leave my side. I got to hold both of my babies. Amazing.

Grandpa Larry got to hold his first granddaughter, Joanna:

Grandma Judy also got to hold Jo, the grand baby named after her mother:

And here is Grandma Colleen holding Jo, who she believes is the most beautiful baby to enter the world since Oliver:

We transitioned to our room in Maternity. I was pleasantly surprised they had a room for us! Apparently, there were so many births between Monday and Tuesday that they'd run out of rooms. Many people had to stay in their labor rooms.

This photo of Jo was taken about 6 hours after birth. She still hadn't been cleaned from delivery. In fact, she didn't get cleaned until nearly 1:00am--that's how busy the hospital was!

We didn't even get to try sleeping until the wee hours of the morning. Even then, nurses went in and out, dropped things, bumped into our beds, and just generally woke us up all night. Jo, on the other hand, slept soundly through it all. I had to wake her to nurse, and, even then, she was too tired to try latching on a couple of times. We managed to survive the first night, and, in the morning, we were rewarded with a visit from Oliver! Once again, he was thrilled to see us and his sister.

Joanna, Day 2, finally cleaned up:

Mother & Daughter:

Father & Son:

Oliver even taught Grandpa Larry how to play Angry Birds:

Oliver is Here!

Oliver is here! He was born on Friday, October 30, at 2:07pm. I'm so grateful I was able to deliver him because the doctor had started talking about a C-section when he hadn't dropped on his own. She decided to let me try to push him down on my own, and I was able to!

They put him immediately to my stomach for me to hold. Andrew cut the umbilical cord, and then the nurses took him away and weighed him at 7 lbs, 10 oz. He was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I sat in the bed crying from the emotions, waiting to have him back. It was definitely love at first sight.

Andrew and I spent the next 48 hours at the hospital learning as much as we could. I learned I love nursing, and Oliver was good at it. He latched on like an old pro.

Starting Saturday afternoon, though, he started to get really fussy. I'd nurse him for an hour, and afterwards, he'd continue to "root" and try to feed. He'd cry. That lasted through this morning. The nurses would bring him back to me after he'd nurse for an hour, and they'd say he was still hungry. Once, I nursed for nearly two hours, finally got him to stop crying, and then the nurse came back with him half an hour later and said he needed to nurse some more. He was insatiable (literally) and crying whenever he wasn't feeding. His pediatrician told me that he seemed healthy; he was having the correct amount of stools and everything, and he hadn't lost too much weight. However, I told her (in between Oliver's sobs) how he wasn't happy unless he was eating. She didn't really pay attention, but then a nurse came in and listened to me.

The nurse suggested I supplement Oliver's diet with a little formula. At first, I was against the idea. Then, she told me I could feed it to him through a small tube as he was nursing. He wouldn't need a bottle or anything, and he wouldn't lose his ability to nurse. We tried it. Oliver drank 20mL of formula! He was so happy! And, for the first time in a day, he fell asleep contently. He woke up an hour later and needed more. Then, an hour later, he needed even more! A lactation nurse came in and helped, and said he was quite the piggy.
Since then, Oliver's appetite has settled down. He went two and a half hours without another feeding, and now, he's sleeping quietly in his swing. I'm so glad he's full and happy!

We're Adding a Limb to Our Family Tree...

So sang Ricky Ricardo in an episode of "I Love Lucy." Man, I loved that show as a kid.

Andrew and I never planned on having kids. We were content with the idea of being the world's greatest aunt and uncle. Sometimes, life doesn't turn out as you plan.

Over the last couple of weeks at work, I noticed I was getting hungrier than usual. I didn't want to over eat, so I purchased healthy options like string cheese, yogurt and fruit to eat. Then, I started to feel more tired than normal. At work, I kept thinking how I wanted to go home and sleep. Then, on Wednesday, my good friend Aminta and I went to do our usual work out. My stomach felt full, like I had indigestion or something, and I finally told Aminta I'd have to go home early.

On Friday, I felt the same full feeling. Andrew and I went out shopping for some Mucinex, and everything we passed looked delicious. Hot cocoa! Canned corn! Yum, yum. He teased me that I just wanted everything at the end of the aisles: "Do you need a cell phone charger, too?"

Friday evening, I was craddling my bloated stomach trying to think what I'd eaten that might have caused the indigestion. That's about the time it occured to me that I was late... like 10 days late. How had I not thought of it before? I tried to tell Andrew, but couldn't think how. When I finally worked up the courage and let him know I was late. He stayed calm and practical and offered to go out to buy a test. I was nervous and wasn't sure if I even wanted to know. He assured me that knowing is better than not knowing, and that's basically how I ended up peeing on a test stick at 10pm.

Truly, I didn't expect a positive result. I'm not sure why. I thought Andrew read it wrong when he told me it was positive. It was very overwhelming. I don't know how to be a parent! How's it going to come out of me? What about the house we wanted to buy? And could we even afford rent, much less a mortgage with a kid? I cried over the confusion, and Andrew hugged me. He told me that life doesn't turn out like we plan, and that's a good thing.

The next day, yesterday, I started to feel much better. It was nerve-wracking telling my parents. Everyone knew we didn't want kids; what would they all think when they found out we were expecting? But they were happy for us; my dad started talking about taking our kid to ball games. My mom joked that I'm so small; she said I'll end up looking like a basketball. Really, they were excited for us. I think that was the turning point for me, too, where I started to see having a kid as a positive thing. On the way home, Andrew and I talked about baby names. I won't tell you the ones we did like, but I'll tell you the ones we didn't. Andrew hated my pick Wyatt; I hated his choice of Harlen. He decided that we both get unlimited name vetos, since it's important we both like our child's name.

This morning, we went over to his parents' house to tell them the big news. Andrew told them in their kitchen, and they both started crying. His dad, Paul, told me I'd be a great mom. Colleen even bought me prenatal vitamins (the picture on the front with the very pregnant woman reminded me again of the fact that this baby is going to have to come out somehow).

There's a lot we don't know. I don't know how to hold a baby, much less figure out how to breast feed it. I don't know how to change a baby or, frankly, how to raise it. I know nothing of the birthing process, and the whole needle thing to the abdomin is a little too much for me at this point. Andrew asked me about birthing classes. I guess I'd go if it's recommended, but do we have to watch videos? I definitely don't want to watch a video. It'll only succeed in freaking me out more.

All I'm saying is I have 9 months (maybe 8? Possibly 7?) to figure all this stuff out. I have no idea where to start...