Hello Baby!

If you’ve been following me for awhile, I’m sure you know by now that I occasionally write blog posts for my friend Taylor over at Not Just Another Teen Mom. Well, here comes another one!

This time, Taylor has put together a wonderful blog series where moms discuss their birthing stories. And what mom DOESN’T like to talk about their birth stories?! Whether good or bad, most of us will tell you every tiny little detail – sometimes we do it without you asking. I will do my best to limit some of the finer details (no talk of mucous plugs here) and I will try to keep them as short and sweet as I possibly can. Buuutttt, considering that I have two stories to tell and both labors lasted a few hours…. well, you know.

Here are my stories:

Baby J

He is four years old now, but I still remember the day he was born as though it happened minutes ago.

My labor began at home, ON my due date, right at 9:00 PM. Because he was my first child, I was way too excited to want to sleep! No way could I close my eyes – I needed to be timing contractions! They started off every 4-6 for the first hour and rapid increased to every 2-3 the next hour. By 11:00, I was calling my OB to let them know. They gave me the go ahead, so we grabbed our bags and loaded into the car.

After triage and getting admitted, my labor began to stall. I waited until morning to talk with my doctor and we decided to go with pitocin and breaking my water.

Around lunch time, they came in and got the pitocin started. A few hours later, they broke my water.

I wanted to go without an epidural, so I did my best to labor without it for as long as I could. By about 4:00 PM, my knuckles were white as I gripped the rails of my hospital bed with each contraction. My doc came in to check and see how much progress I had made and gave me a grim report. 5 cm. 5 FREAKING CENTIMETERS. After laboring forever and being in the worst pain I’d ever experienced… no. I asked them for the epidural and they brought someone in shortly.

My doctor (who I think was the biggest airhead in the hospital) said she would come back and check on me in a few hours. Four hours later, I was so numbed up from the middle of my abdomen down that I couldn’t feel when people touched my legs – not even pressure. Doctor Airhead came back in, glanced at my monitor, saw that my contractions were mere blips on the screen, and decided she’d come back in a few more hours. Didn’t even bother to check and see where I was at.

Not even 10 minutes after Doctor Airhead left, my wonderful, glorious, amazing nurse, Lauren, came in. They had just switched shifts and because it had been awhile since I was checked last, she decided to check me herself so she personally knew where I was at. Because I was all numbed up, she said she was just going to check while I laid on my side.

She lifted the sheet, pulled my legs apart, and slowly said, “Oh…”

She then closed my legs and began to slowly peel her gloves off while backing towards the door and saying, “I’m gonna go get the doctor… because we’re ready to deliver NOW.”

“NOW?!”

“Yes. Now.”

Then she bolted out of the room.

I thought it was some kind of weird joke. They told me I’d feel pressure. I felt nothing.

His poor, unsuspecting father, was heading into the bathroom when I said, “Hey. What do you see?” and pulled the sheet back…

“THAT’S HIS HEAD?!?!”
“Seriously?”
“NO, SERIOUSLY! THAT’S HIS HEAD! OH MY GOSH…”
“Are you playing with me right now?”
“NO!!! THAT’S HIS HEAD! RIGHT THERE!”

At this point, Lauren and another nurse rushed back in.

Lauren grabbed my legs, flipped me onto my back in one motion (I still have no clue how she did that…), and told me to push. No one dropped down the bottom half of the bed, the giant overhead light didn’t come down out of the ceiling, my feet didn’t go up in the stirrups… just push. My doctor wasn’t even there.

I looked at her like she was crazy and once again, she said, “Push… NOW!”

I gave the most half-assed push of my life (I seriously put in about the same amount of effort I would to pass gas… I still didn’t think they were serious) and he came FLYING out. Lauren caught him, cut the cord, and put him on my chest with a million blankets and told me to just keep rubbing him to keep him warm. I did. And the entire time, I was crying.

I took birthing classes, did my research, read books… none of them ever talked about it happening like this.

But there he was. And with a head full of dark hair.

J&M

Born at 40 weeks and 1 day: 7 lbs 8 oz, 21.5 inches long, 7:19 PM (exactly 15 minutes after my doctor left my room), and absolutely perfect.

Baby N

Now, her story is a little less exciting. 🙂

I started laboring early in the morning with her, sometime around 6 or 7. I called my dad and let him know so he could come be with J while we were at the hospital, but told him to take his time. When we got to the hospital, it was about 10:30 AM. They took us back into triage where I did a whole lot of sitting and watching my contractions.

They were a little bit further apart, but strong. I had made some progress, but not as much as my doctor wanted to see before I was admitted (SHE was brilliant and compassionate… not an airhead). So my husband and I got up and started walking the halls of the hospital.

Let me just say that walking around with my husband while contracting was one of the funniest things ever. Every time I would pause to breathe through a contraction, he would pause with me. But there was one moment where he made me laugh so incredibly hard in the middle of a contraction that I seriously considered punching him.

He decided to quote a movie to me. So there I am, having a contraction, and he starts saying, “Feel the rhythm! Feel the rhyme! Get on up! It’s baby time!”

I couldn’t breathe because I couldn’t stop laughing.

Right after that, we went back to triage and my doctor checked up on me and decided to go ahead and admit me.

Once again, after being admitted, my contractions began to spread out and my labor started to stall. They got me on pitocin and broke my water not long after. I was determined to make it through this one without the epidural.

I went until about 7:30 PM before I told my nurse that I felt like I was going to need to push soon. There was SO much pressure and I was to the point where I thought I was going to pass out and throw up at the same time every time I had a contraction. My nurse checked me and told me I was still sitting at 5 cm.

I remember thinking, “There is NO WAY I’m only at 5! This hurts so much more than it did with J!” After thinking a little bit, I told her to go ahead and bring someone in to do an epidural. I decided that if I was hurting that bad at 5 cm, I didn’t want to feel the next 5.

Shortly after, they sat me up to do the epidural. We waited for a contraction to pass, and then I felt the pinch of the needle. Instantly, another contraction started and there was SO much pressure. I began telling them they needed to hurry up because I needed to lay back down so I could push. My nurse kept trying to reassure me that I was only at 5 cm and it wasn’t possible for me to push yet.

As soon as they laid me back down, I said, “I need to push. I know my body. Will you please check?”

She checked again and said, “Oh. You’re complete! I’ll go get the doctor.”

Soon, I had my nurse, another nurse, my doctor, and a whole bunch of nursing students in the room. They got everything ready for her arrival, and then went to get my husband. Once he came back in the room, it was go time. After 3 good pushes, she was out. Her dad got to cut her cord, and they handed her up to me.

I remember my first thought being that she was so tiny and I was afraid I would break her. But she sure was perfect. No dark hair like her brother though. She’s my little blondie with blue eyes.

N&M

Born at 38 weeks and 4 days: 5 lbs 10 oz, 19 inches long, 8:15 PM, and beautiful in every way.

Trading Places

Calli Tyler Photography (c) 2013

Calli Tyler Photography (c) 2013

This is what I’d like to be doing right now.

My amazing husband got me a pistol for Christmas and I have only shot it twice; one of those times being yesterday. I was having so much fun plinking away at the steel targets. That has got to be one of my favorite sounds.

Unfortunately, having kids (and lack of personal funds) really limits the amount of time I get to spend at the range. I’m sure MANY moms can relate – maybe not the range specifically, but fill in the blank with ANY hobby you enjoy. Whether you’re a stay at home mom, working mom, single mom, married mom, mom of one child, or a mom of twelve children, we all know how it feels to really want to go do something and not be able to whenever we want.

One of my favorite things to do, pre-children, was to go spend the day at the beach on my day off from work. I would wake up at 9:30, put on a suit, tank top, flip flops, shorts, and grab my dog. We’d be loaded in the car and on the road by 10:00. Arrive at the beach around 11:30 and then we wouldn’t leave until it got dark. Charlie had fun playing in the sand (not really – he hates the beach) and I got to work on my tan and relax.

It would be a dream come true to do that just one more time.

I love all the time I get with my children, but you lose a lot of freedom when they arrive. That’s just a sacrifice you make when you have kids. The thing that really gets to me though is how taboo it is for moms to talk about MISSING that freedom.

We’re not saying we would ditch our kids on the side of the road so we can score a couple of hours having brunch and mimosas with our girlfriends or that we would trade our kids in for a night on the town – we’re just bitching about what a pain in the ass it is to have to find a trustworthy sitter, pay for said sitter, make plans, PRAY the kids don’t get sick and cause plans to be cancelled, and then be home at a “reasonable hour” so aforementioned sitter isn’t ticked off at you and never wants to babysit for you again.

Not to mention how frustrating it is to have your entire day scheduled around someone else. Even if you’re a working mom, you do this to some degree. Wake up at the crack of dawn, get yourself ready, get kids ready, make breakfast, be out the door by 6:30 justtttt in case you get stuck behind a school bus at 7:00 or caught in school traffic, arrive at daycare at 7:30 (after getting stuck behind a school bus… three times), drop off kids, arrive at work at 8:02, freak out because you’re late, leave work at 5:00 and speed so you get to daycare by 5:45 so your kids aren’t the “last one.” Yeah. We all plan our days out around our kids, to some degree. And it’s TIRING.

The other day I caught myself thinking, I really wish I could trade places with my husband, just for one day.

Simply because of this: I’m envious.

Not because I think he has it easy (he’s military – his schedule is unpredictable and he deals with a lot of idiotic issues) or because I think he can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Not because I get angry when he goes and does “fun” things without me. Not because of any other stupid, petty reason you can possibly come up with.

I’m envious.

envy

My husband is a wonderful man and I have absolutely ZERO complaints when it comes to him and the things he does. He provides everything we need. He works hard, sets goals, and successfully accomplishes everything he sets out to do. He is honest, loyal, trustworthy, caring, considerate, optimistic, understanding, and loving. On top of all that, he’s charming, just as goofy as I am, and incredibly handsome.

Heart, be still!

I KNOW he doesn’t have it easy. He sometimes works from 5:00 AM until 7:00 PM. Sometimes he’s gone for weeks at a time, with no communication. He has to deal with people patronizing him pretty frequently and his schedule is NEVER the same. He’s often away from us. BUT, when he IS home, I’m envious.

Because being at home with the kids and taking care of the house is basically my “job,” it’s kind of a given that I will always be here with them (unless I’ve had time to make plans for something). So when he’s home, it’s easy for him to say (after asking if he’s needed for anything or if we have plans), “Hey honey! I’m heading out to the range for the day,” or “Do you mind if I go meet up with the guys for breakfast?”

Do I have issues with him doing these things? Nope. I never have, unless it interferes with prior plans. Do I resent him when he makes plans without me? Never. He deserves time to himself to do the things he enjoys as well. Can I do this too? Well, yes… kind of.

I know that he has zero issues with watching the kids while I go and do something I want to do. He has told me this more times than I can count, and I appreciate it more than I can say. However, it still requires planning and a fair amount of work before I can head out the door and that makes it frustrating.

Because being “Mom” is my “job,” it is, always has been, and always will be my duty to ensure that my children have everything they could possibly need and that my husband has everything he needs before I go anywhere. So… diapers, snacks, nap times, what to cook for dinner, clean sippy cups, etc. Then I’ve gotta get myself ready… it always feels like it’s a much bigger production than it should be for just a few hours to myself.

This is going to sound kind of silly but when he says he’s going to do something, I find myself thinking, “Damn! He beat me to it.. again!” See, most of my girlfriends are parents too. So if one of them calls me up to do something, it usually doesn’t happen until later in the afternoon. If he makes plans, he usually knows before 2:00 PM. By the time a friend calls, it’s like 3:30… I’m in yoga pants with no bra and I ain’t moving (just kidding… but seriously).

I think I’m just going to make a master calendar and pick one day each month and write “DO NOT PLAN ANYTHING! THIS IS MY DAY. RESERVED!” on a random Saturday.

Then he can’t beat me to it and I’ll have plenty of time to plan. 😉