Let's start this story with the week my mom arrived. I had been dilated 1 cm for a couple of weeks. At my checkup right before my mom came, my cervix was very soft, and I had been having irregular contractions all week. My midwife told me that day that she wouldn't be at all surprised if I went into labor that night and would be surprised if the baby hadn't arrived by the end of the weekend. So! I went home and stuck my feet in the air, determined to not go into labor until my mom was here to help.
I guess I convinced baby girl a little too well that she should stay put, because things REALLY slowed down after that.
My mom came, and mission "get Annie to go into labor" began immediately. We went on walks, went swimming, and slowly added every old-wives-tale way of inducing labor. I'm going to list some of these so you can really understand how desperately I wanted to meet my baby and be done with pregnancy. We tried: pineapple, evening primrose oil, eggplant Parmesan, TONS of raspberry leaf tea (although I did know before trying this that it is more of a "help labor move along once it starts" rather than a way of inducing labor, but it should just be noted that I drank a lot of it), Taco Bell (yes, it came to that), spicy food, rubbing of various oils on my abdomen, feet and ankles...really the list goes on and on. If I heard that someone did something and went into labor the next day, I was trying it.
My mom and I on a walk at city park a week and half before actually going into labor.
My due date came...and went, and things started getting really frustrating. And while we're on the subject, why do they give due dates? Why not just say, you're baby will come sometime between this week and 3 or 4 weeks later, like a "due month". On September 9th, I couldn't walk past the calendar or see the date somewhere without nearly falling to pieces. We continued doing all we could to get things going, but I was losing steam and facing the fact that this baby would come whenever she was ready and there wasn't a single thing I could do about it. On Monday, September 12th, I started having contractions in the middle of the night. I was so excited when I started timing them and they were consistent. I didn't dare wake up Brandon and my mom until I knew for sure, so I told myself that as soon as I'd made it through an hour of regular contractions, I would announce that I was officially in labor and the celebration could begin. But no. Just shy of one hour, the contractions stopped. I would watch the clock waiting to have one again, but they were gone. This happened again the following night. I was becoming a wreck--the false hope was killing me! Wednesday night, right after we went to bed, I had a contraction. Brandon helped me breathe through it, and we agreed not to get our hopes up. I had another one a few minutes later, but I still didn't dare hope that this could be it. I checked the time, waited for a third...and nothing happened. I decided to get up, move around, and try not to think about the night ahead of irregular contractions and false hope. As soon as I stood up...water, water, everywhere!
I called Kathy (my midwife) who told me that because there was meconium in the water, I needed to get to the hospital within the hour. I was sad about this because I had really wanted to do the majority of labor from home, but oh well...the baby's health was way more important. So Brandon and mom finished putting together the hospital bag, brought me vanilla pudding with raspberries to eat while I waited (Brandon had just made it that night and it was SO good), and away we went.
My contractions still weren't regular, so Kathy had them give me an Ambien when I arrived in hopes that I would get some sleep and be ready and energized for active labor when she arrived in the morning. Great plan--unfortunately it just didn't work out that way. The Ambien made me really groggy, and minutes after taking it and getting hooked up to all of the monitors, my contractions picked up and became regular. So my mom stayed up with me during the night, helping me get through my contractions so that Brandon could sleep. Sometime early the next morning, the nurse checked and I was dilated to a 5 or 6, so they called Kathy in. Around the same time, Rita and Tricia showed up with all sorts of reinforcements, including extra pillows, massage lotion (which was used to rub my feet...awesome), candy, and I'm not sure what else, but it was wonderful having them there.
Kathy filled the birthing tub, and the rest of the day was a bit of a blur, if I'm totally honest. I would sit in the tub for a few contractions, then walk for a couple, then go back to bed for a few more, then get back in the tub. It was great being able to move around, and I had amazing support through it all. The labor was primarily in my back, which I hadn't known was possible and was incredibly painful, but the water and constant change of position seemed to really help.
By around noon I was dilated to 9 cm, and they decided that, because of the meconium, I couldn't deliver in the water. So they hooked me back up to the monitors and started the IV again, and we waited until it was time to push. Rita and Tricia were told to wait in the waiting room because standing in the hall was a fire hazard...apparently they lasted about 15 minutes and then made their way back to the hall where they stayed until the baby came.
I pushed for 2 hours. In my mind, it was a very different experience than what Brandon and my mom observed. My mind: I would push a few times, then black out, ask for drugs and then push again, scream, ask for water (which I only got about every other time I asked for it), pass out, push again, beg someone to please finish for me, I couldn't do it anymore, ask for water, scream some more...longest 2 hours of my life. What really happened: I didn't scream, I only asked for drugs once, and only asked for water a few times (and got it immediately upon request). It was a relief to find out that I hadn't actually been vocalizing what I wanted and that everyone hadn't just been ignoring me.
At the end of 2 hours, the nurse told me to stop pushing (I didn't really like the nurse), and for the first time I had that feeling that I had read about: that I couldn't do anything but push. And then...after a few more pushes, at 3:24, she finally came! I heard her cry, and then they placed her on my chest, and she stopped crying. Then her eyes opened, and I was in love. I couldn't see much because my eyes were so swollen and because I had popped a few blood vessels in my eyes during the pushing, but I could see my baby and all the pain of the previous 16 hours (and 9 months) were totally worth it.
Brandon was amazing through the whole experience and was an enormous strength to me. During the pushing, I would come out of my daze as another contraction was beginning and just look for his face and listen for my mom's encouraging words. Brandon was a very active participant during the labor and delivery. He even helped deliver her! It was really neat seeing that side of him.
Genevieve was 7 lbs, 8 oz and 20 inches long. Here are a few pictures.
Proud new dad!
Cutest cry ever (although, it has gained strength since that day at the hospital, but still...so sweet)!
They kept us at the hospital for 48 hours to make sure the baby didn't get any of the meconium in her lungs during labor. She didn't, and we were finally released on Saturday afternoon. Ordinarily, I thought, staying an extra day at the hospital might be nice. As it turns out, they have a nurse for every body part, and those nurses were coming into our room to poke and prod one of us almost constantly. We were very happy to go home!
