Baby’s Birth Story

Baby’s Birth Story May 25, 2017

Our daughter, Francesca May, was born November 7, 2016.

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She was born on this day because it was the earliest possible day I was allowed to be induced. There was no way I was going to be pregnant a day longer than I had to be. I opted for an elective induction for three reasons.

First, my labors are fast. Mark works a half hour away. I have had an experience of nearly having a baby in a car, and other fast labors, so the fear of going through transition in the car is a real possibility for me.

Second, I was GBS positive, and had some other wonky bacterial infections that needed to be treated before delivery. My babies come quickly (see above), so I needed the time for antibiotics.

Finally, I was miserable. I had spent nearly every night from about 19 weeks on in tears. My pregnancies get progressively more painful, with my SI-joint, hips, and pelvis causing constant pain and difficulty walking. I have underlying issues with my tendons and ligaments anyway, so adding the hormones of pregnancy make supporting a belly excruciating.

On induction day, I drove alone to the hospital at 6am to get my IV antibiotics started. Mark stayed home to get the kids up and on the bus. I am a very hard IV stick. This, as it turns out, was the hardest part of the whole day. Already having bruises along my arm from several IV attempts a few days earlier, my veins were blown. Even with hot packs, an ultrasound of my veins, and calling up the anesthesiologist, I ended up with an IV on the inside of elbow, which meant I had to labor with my right (dominant) arm straight the whole time.

My doctor applied P-gel around 8am (prostaglandin gel, on the cervix). Mark was not at the hospital yet. Within the first hour, I felt mild contractions and had early labor symptoms. I panicked a bit, and called Mark to get to the hospital ASAP, because I was afraid things would get out of control rapidly. But they didn’t. I had very mild contractions for a few hours, and was getting a little bored. Mark came, and we listened to music and discussed work and plans for the week. It was low-key, but for my antsyness to get things cooking.

At 11, dilated to 3cm, my doctor suggested taking a walk around the hospital hallways, if nothing more than to pass the time for an hour until the next P-Gel could be applied. I reluctantly agreed, worried because we live in a small town, and there would be no question that I would run into someone we knew. If you’ve ever wondered if I’m the type to be mortified to be seen in a hospital gown, you are right.

We walked the hallways, and I felt restless. At one point, we ran into Mark’s sister’s husband’s brother’s wife! She was working as a nurse that day, and it was a nice diversion to chat for a minute in the hallway. Maybe this walking was a good thing after all. It kept my mind from worrying about getting labor going.

Not a minute after saying goodbye to our family member, my water broke in the hallway right outside the OB doors. I stood there laughing and praying no one would see me, while Mark grabbed our nurse to help me walk back to my room. That amniotic fluid is slippery stuff!

It was 11:30am, and for the next hour I sat in the tub talking to Mark and listening to music. I was having contractions close together, every 2-3 minutes, but they weren’t intense. This didn’t feel like labor. It was too easy. I was worried that they’d want to put me on pitocin if I kept having wimpy contractions.

Around 12:30 I got out of the tub because I was bored and restless again. I kept on wanting to “do” something instead of being bored in labor and leaking amniotic fluid. I thought I’d try hanging out in bed. That small walk from the tub to the bed threw me not just into active labor, but full on transition. Baby’s heartrate got a little crazy, and they said I was 7cm. I felt pressure and was audibly grunting. Lots of people filled the room, and I was on my side holding on to the bedrail grunting. They checked me again–7cm.

The doctor said out loud to the nurses, “She’s going to go from ‘0’ (station) to baby in one contraction.”

In that moment, I had remembered Martha’s delivery where I was also lying on my side with intense pressure. The nurse had elevated the bed, when the pressure turned into an urge to push. Remembering this, I was able to push the button to elevate myself. I wanted to ask the nurses for help, but I was beyond talking.

Lifting the bed worked. I had a split second to yell, “The baby’s coming!!” And for my doctor to answer, “I think you’re right!” When I pushed hard and out came our little baby.

All said and done, it felt like a 20 minute labor. I only worked hard for 20 minutes, and went from 7cm to a baby in my arms within maybe 1-2 minutes. It was fast, furious, and not too bad as far as labors can go. Francesca was born at 1:00pm, just an hour and a half from when my water broke.

They placed baby on me and I cried, cried, and cried. I thanked God over and over again, and then got frustrated with myself because I wanted to see what my baby looked like, but I was crying too hard to see her face!

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Francesca May was 7lbs 90z, and 20inches long. Six months later, I am still giddy with joy. She is a delight to each member of our family, and not a day goes by where I don’t pinch myself that this beautiful child has been given to us. I had no post-partum complications, and a great recovery. It has been one of the most joyful times of our lives.

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