While I am on maternity leave and snuggling with Conor as well as his awesome big sis, Rosie Mae, I am sharing posts about motherhood every Monday.  I hope you'll enjoy this stray from photography while I'm out; I figure, motherhood is what's on my mind these days so why not bring that to the good ole' blog???  Heck, I might even keep these going after I get back into the swing of things.  Speaking of that, my return date is May 15th - have you booked your photo session for that lovely time of year yet???To kick off Motherhood Mondays, I figured I'd share Rosie Mae's birth story.  At some point once the dust settles, I'll be sure to share Conor's story as well.  As I write this in advance of his arrival (scheduled posts are miraculous), I wonder so much how their entrances into this world will be different.  I can't wait to know his story too.  Birth stories are the best.A note:  I wrote this to Rosie Mae for Rosie Mae when Rosie Mae was new.  I wanted to remember the details as best as possible.  And there are details.  I keep it from being too graphic, but it's a birth story.  So, be warned.

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Your Birth Story

On April 5th, I went to bed the same way I had been going to bed for weeks:  in labor but unsure of whether I would progress.  As I had learned, sleep would be the key:  if I woke up still in labor, this was probably the real deal.  I laid down and hoped for the best...at the same time, pessimistic that anything would happen (you get that way after three weeks of early labor with no baby as a result!).

At 1:43AM I woke up and went to the bathroom.  No contractions.  Hmph.  I guess this was another night of failure to progress.  Still, something made me think I should wear an overnight pad, so I put one on and climbed back into bed.

At 2:27AM I woke with a contraction.  I looked at the clock thinking I might time it, but then realized it was really intense and GUSSSH!  My water broke.  I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom.

I sat on the toilet for 13 minutes... Meanwhile I had 4 contractions.  I yelled to your Dad to get up... That this was it!  I told him to get our last minute stuff packed while I labored in the shower.   He called the midwives to let them know we were coming.  When he called the answering service, they asked how far apart contractions were.  He told them they were a minute apart, lasting a minute long.  The gentleman on the phone said, “No, that can’t be right; people usually call us when they’re about 4 minutes apart or so.”  You Dad replied, “Right... That’s why we’re telling you we are ON OUR WAY!”

During this phone call, I was in the shower on my hands and knees, with the hot hot water hitting my lower back.  Labor was intense.  I assumed I was only slightly more dilated that I had been at my last appointment (4cm and 80% effaced), so I figured I was only just beginning this long journey you hear so much about.  If that was the case, I thought, I’d never make it naturally and maybe I would need an epidural.  

If I had only known at the time that I was already in the transition phase.

Luckily for all of us, the hot water ran out so I made my way out of the shower.  The midwife on call was Agnes.  She called us back and demanded to speak to me so she could estimate how intense labor was.  She asked me if I didn’t want to talk on the phone because I didn’t feel like it or if I couldn’t.  I yelled, “BOTH!”  She told us to get in there.

Getting dressed and downstairs and into the car was horrible.  Both your father and I were SURE we weren’t going to make it.  The contractions were coming so fast I couldn’t manage to get my pants on, or my shirt on, or down the stairs, or out the door (you get the idea) in between them so it seemed like it took forever.  But finally we got in the car and were on our way.  

We drove in silence.  Your dad asked me once if I wanted the radio on.  I murmured, “no thank you.”  He may have told me I was doing a great job once or twice... I’m not sure.  He sensed (very correctly) that I needed to just focus and so he let me do it.   This was the trend for the entire labor and birth; I spoke very little throughout the whole process.  I kept my eyes closed and my mouth open... Making vowel sounds to get through the pain and keep everything relaxed.  This technique, by the way, had nothing to do with any lessons in birthing I had learned or read about; it was 100% techniques I had learned in my freshman voice class as a theatre major.  It was also 100% the best way for me to handle the situation.  Thank you, Professor Michael Hume.

We were both amazed that I didn’t break the passenger side handle that hangs from the roof of the car.  I was pulling on it with all my might during contractions.  I don’t know how it still remains in tact!  

Your father drove to the hospital calmly and without speeding, but also somehow really quickly.  He pulled up to the ER entrance and helped me out of the car.  I had a contraction in his arms.  He pushed on my lower back to help ease the pain.  He asked if he should walk in with me.  I told him to park the car and meet me.

I went in, murmured to reception, “labor and delivery please.”  And put my head down to have another contraction.  They got me a wheelchair and started wheeling me, saying your father would catch up.  He did seconds later... Just about the same time Marsha, our nurse, met us to take us upstairs.

She took over wheeling me and said, “You’re laboring pretty hard... Are you sure you still want a natural birth?”

Me: Yes.  I want to try.Marsha:  Well, we can put you in the room for the tub or we can put you in a different room for an epidural.  What would you like?*Me:  The tub.Marsha (enthusiastically):  OK!

(*This was, I knew at the time and have confirmed, 100% false; I could get an epidural in any room I want.  I think she was just testing me.  I didn't mind.)

We get into the room your father and I now knew so well from our prior visits.  I got into the bed and was hooked up.  I remember the television was on, and I heard something about Justin Beiber and Selena Gomez and I yelped something about turning that off immediately.  Your dad reached up and shut it off.  

Marsha started asking me about my medical history.  I said no to all questions and then added that I had a cousin who had Type 1 Diabetes.  I remember this all so well because these little moments were the only times I spoke from when I woke up with my water breaking.

Agnes came in and checked me.  This was the moment of truth.  I was SURE she was going to tell me I was only 5 or 6 centimeters dilated.  With her hand feeling around, she looked to Marsha and said, “Hm, I don’t feel any cervix.”  Marsha said, “Sounds about right; she’s laboring pretty hard.”  Agnes asked me if I felt like pushing.  I said, “I felt like pushing in the car.”  She said, “OK!  Let’s go!  Start to push on your next contraction!”

We had been in the hospital for less than ten minutes.

I pushed... I made noises.  They told me not to make noise; to focus completely on the push.  I listened to their advice and adjusted the way I was pushing.  I could feel my efforts working.  Pushing felt AMAZING.  There was a point where they were hooking up an IV and needed to take blood, so I couldn’t push during that contraction.  Luckily, both Marsha (putting in the IV) and the gentleman taking blood were SUPER AMAZING at it, and I only had to sit out one contraction because after feeling the pleasure of pushing, the contractions were immense and awful and I wanted none of it.

Your Father was on my left, Agnes (and sometimes Marsha) on my right.  My feet were on their respective hips and they held my hands and pulled opposite from me so I could use my might and have something to pull against.  I truly don’t think I spoke one word or made one noise during the pushing phase.  Oh wait, yes I did.  In between two pushes I said, “I pooped.”  Agnes said, “we don’t know anything about that.”  I think she didn’t want me to be ashamed.  I wasn't ashamed; I was relieved!  After I got that outta me I could focus on getting YOU outta me!  

Agnes left the room for a moment and Marsha was coaching me, cheering me on.  As was your dad.  The atmosphere was calm and focused.  At one point, my pushes started to really feel like they were making something happen.  Marsha exclaimed, “YES !  That’s it!  You’ve got it!”  Moments later, she had Mike buzz Agnes because you were close to crowning.  Marsha explained to me that I was going to feel your head come out and want to keep pushing but that it was better to pause in between your head and the rest of your body.  I nodded.

Agnes came in and had no time to put her gloves on... You were coming and you were coming right then!  I pushed your head out and paused like I was told.  But the contraction was still going so I yelped, “can I keep pushing now?!”  They said yes, so I did.  With one contraction, you were born.

The entire time in the hospital (and 99% of the time beforehand), my eyes had been shut.  During that one glorious contraction, Agnes said to me, “come, take your daughter.”  I opened my eyes for the first time and saw only you.  And while you were still somewhat inside of me, I grabbed you and pulled you out into this world and into my arms.  

This next part is somewhat of a blur for me.  You were in my arms... That part is as clear as day.  Gazing at you and loving you immediately and looking at your father who had tears in his eyes.  He kissed me and we both just exuded love and wonderment.  I remember noting that you had dark brown hair like your dad.. And so much of it!  You were slightly purple greyish, so they took you from me to get your color back to normal and all that good stuff.  Your dad went with you to make sure you were OK.  This was when you got weighed and measured.  7 pounds, 8.8 ounces!  19.5 inches long!  Ten fingers!  Ten toes!  Perfect in every way!

Meanwhile, Agnes surveyed the situation down below.  I needed stitching.. And lots of it.  Many 1st degree tears and one good 2nd degree one.  I spent the next hour being stitched up.  THIS was the worst pain I had ever been in.  Labor and delivery seemed like a piece of cake comparatively!   Marsha and Agnes explained that THIS is when an epidural should be given; that to be stitched like that without pain meds (though I did have topical shots to numb me.. but they barely worked...) was just cruel and unusual punishment.  I had the shakes from the blood loss (they’re also not unusual after delivery I guess) so it was an intense time.  I was given post-delivery pitocin to keep me from hemorrhaging.  This is the one thing I wish didn’t happen because it made my legs and ankles painfully swollen for a week and a half afterward!  Thank god I didn’t have it for hours beforehand like many women do! I had only had a teeny tiny dose for mere minutes!    They gave it to me preemptively because I am a redhead and redheads tend to hemorrhage more.  Next time, I will tell them not to do this unless it seems necessary.

Due to the shakes and my reactions to each stitch, I didn’t get to hold you again until they were done.  But your dad did.  He held you as if holding babies was his job.  He looked immediately comfortable and at home.  He was so in love with you and it was amazing to look at.  THIS was my pain medicine during my stitching.  Made it all ok.  

He held you in one arm and held my hand in the other.  We laughed about the craziness of the last few hours (from water breaking to delivery, it was only a THREE HOUR SPAN!) and just stared at you with big goofy grins.

I finally got you back and started breastfeeding.  It seemed to go pretty well.  Then I got to hold you and cuddle you.  Life.  Was.  Perfect.

After a while, we realized if we didn’t call people soon, they’d all be off to work for the day  (we hadn’t realized it was Good Friday so they were all off).  Your dad called my family first... They were ecstatic!  Grammy was good and asked when it was OK to come, knowing my wishes to have some alone time with just us three first.  We said as soon as they wanted, since we had had a good amount of time already.  Auntie Katie cried immediately which surprised us all.  Everyone was out of their minds excited.  They were off to get ready and get going and your Dad called Nana and Pappou.  Auntie Kim was there too so they all got to hear together.  Nana and Pappou made plans to come later in the afternoon.  Mike called Uncle Kenny and Auntie Aileen, and then Auntie Jackie and Uncle Terry.  Everyone was thrilled and couldn’t wait to meet you!

Before my family arrived, I wanted to shower.  I managed to walk to the bathroom (assisted, now by our new nurse Maureen), GO to the bathroom, and take a shower.  It felt amazing.  Being able to do this was a great benefit of natural birth.  I felt awesome.

For the rest of the hospital stay, you were with us in the room.  We all slept pretty well for being in a hospital and being/having a newborn.  At one point, I even had dreams.  By the time it was time for us to go home, we were ready.  Everyone at Jordan Hospital had been AMAZING (we can't wait to go there again for the next baby) but we were ready for our own beds, our own atmospheres, our own space.  We were ready for the new and exciting journey ahead of us.  We dressed you in the same going home sweater, hat, and booties that my siblings and I wore home from the hospital, stopped by Kendall's room to introduce you girls to each other, and off we went.  It was Easter Sunday.  I sat in the back of the car with you (because that's what mamas do, I hear), and it was a lovely ride home.  The first of so many rides together.  :)

And that, my darling, is the story of your birth. 

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If you have a birth story you'd love to share, feel free to email it to me and I'll post it for a Motherhood Monday post!  I love hearing birth stories so bring em on!

-Kerry:)