Baby Hart: 38 weeks

(Note: this is a birth story. A long birth story. A birth story;) You've been warned;))

***

I'm convinced we are meant to walk through life together hand in hand with open hands.

It's amazing to me the similarities and differences between Judah and Silas' birth stories.

Differences, really.

It's so funny, ironic funny- with Silas' birth I was SO open-minded, so no-I-will-not-have-a-birth-plan, all-that-matters-is-healthy-baby-healthy-mama-plan. And so when that whole, long day of labor with him went up and down and this way and that way and back and forth between c-section/no c-section, again and again... I was flexible. I was chill. Sure, I had some emotion through it, but it didn't jar me because I knew, this was why I didn't have a birth plan. Whatever happened, happened. Healthy baby, healthy mama- that's what mattered.

And it certainly is what mattered this time to, with Judah, but I gotta tell ya- even though I didn't have a "plan", I did have expectations. And those expectations pretty much included things going as they did when I had Silas.

Maybe it's because I had such a cozy experience with Silas (please note: gross and painful, YES. But there's a ton of fond memories of his birth still. Mostly post-epidural;) But still;)). Maybe it's because Silas' birth was just what I was familiar with. I just expected Judah to come a couple weeks early, with my water breaking in the night, and to push him out swiftly. There were a couple things I hoped could be different: I hoped the damage of it all and recovery would be a lot smoother, because I've heard the 2nd time around, that's often the case. I thought maybe this time I could do it without the epidural, since I knew more what to expect. I looked forward to hopefully having him handed right to me (Silas had already decided to take his first potty in me so he needed to go get some care before they brought him over, and then I was shaking too badly to hold him for a bit.). And I certainly hoped I wouldn't be in the hospital for 18 hrs before he was born;)

And some of those things were different. In fact, most of Judah's birth story is different from Silas'. But not really in a cozy way.

And there were similarities: from the start, actually. My water broke with Silas at 1:37am. I guess both my boys liked starting mama sleep deprived because with Judah I woke up to contractions at 1:30am.

I was sleeping, and woke up uncomfortable and having to go to the bathroom: please read "another normal night's rest for a 9 month pregnant lady".

Let me back up a smidge:

I had had some back pain the night before while me and Jason ate dinner and before I went to bed- the same as I had with Silas- and had kinda wondered if this was gonna be the night. We had actually gone walking that evening with my goal being to go into labor (I had been doing a LOT of walking with those hopes that week;)). Oh, and on that walk some random lady looked at me (my belly, really) with disgust (DISGUST) and fear and said "When are you DUE???" I told her in a couple weeks. Shoulda told her in a few hours! :-)

Let me back up a lot more:

Since I was first pregnant with Judah I had hopes and assumptions that he would come early since Silas did. I joked a lot about hoping he would come "exactly 2 weeks early"! This was mainly because I'm a miserable pregnant lady. I don't do pregnancy well. After this hot, long pregnant summer, I knew by 38 weeks I would feel DONE.

But as the prenatal appointments and ultrasounds went on throughout my term, there was another reason I wanted him to come early. Since Silas had had a birth injury and herb palsy, Judah was at a high risk for having that, to a worse extent, as well. And if he was on the big-baby end of things (which he was measuring big) then my doctor really recommended scheduling a c-section for 39 weeks. Jason and I had agreed this would be the plan- it just was not worth the risk (Silas was 10 days early, and thankfully only had the palsy for a month. It could have been much worse, especially if he had been in utero any longer and gotten any larger before being born).

We did an ultrasound for Judah at 36 weeks to see if he was still measuring big- he was indeed, already guestimated to be 6 lbs. 11 oz! This definitely tipped things toward the c-section plan if he hit 39 weeks. There was just one more problem too: we found out at the ultrasound that Judah was breech. Yet another thing that helped tip the scales toward a c-section at 39 weeks. But if I went into labor before that, the doctor was confident he could turn him and he still wouldn't be too big for a vaginal delivery. So my walk-myself-into-labor plan ensued, not to mention all the crazy things to try to flip the baby. We scheduled another appointment and ultrasound for 38 weeks 1 day, so that we could check his size again and see if he was still breech. At that point, we would schedule the c-section for the next week if he was still breech/big. If that was the case, I was going to come home from that appointment and do all my research on c-sections and ask all the questions I had.

I should have probably done that after my first prenatal appointment when the doctor initially breathed the possibility of a c-section to me.

Flash forward to where I started:

It's 1:30am and I go to the bathroom, trying to figure out if the uncomfortableness is just normal achy-third-trimester stuff or what. I got back in bed and lay there wondering. Definitely this feels different from normal stuff.... maybe it's braxton hicks? Hmmm this is definitely coming and going in a pattern.... maybe I should check the time.... Ok, yeah, coming and going every 10-12 minutes.... And so I lay there watching the time and trying to figure it out for a half an hour. Then I got up and decided... it was time to google. ;)

Since the two things I had imagined happening with this birth were c-section or water-break, I was kinda at a loss. How long in between should contractions be? When do we go to the hospital? What if this is false labor??

And so I googled and googled and then when I felt pretty sure that this was indeed labor I prioritized: I needed to take a few more maternity pictures and format my memory card so my camera was good to go to the hospital. ;)

And so I snapped some last minute shots in between contractions:

And I wrote down my contraction times, which were getting to be about 7 minutes apart... and were hurting quite a bit more...

Yeah, time to wake up Jason... (ummm PAST time to wake up Jason!). I woke him up telling him a casual hey babe, I'm having contractions, thought you should know, may need your help speech.

It was now 3am, and my contractions were 5-7 minutes apart and reallllly starting to hurt.

Jason called the doctor's office and talked to the emergency nurse, who was like "YES go to the hospital, sheesh." Ok, not quite in those words, but pretty much ;)

We called our friends who were our take-care-of-Silas-plan and after all those "Hey, can we call you in the middle of the night" jokes- har har!- we really did need them in the middle of the night :) We grabbed our hospital bags and last minute stuff, and then our friend arrived- right when I was in the middle of one of the stronger contractions;) Hey, I'm just bent over in the middle of the kitchen floor, unable to speak or acknowledge my gratitude at your presence- just give me a minute and I'll say hi, I promise! ;) We got out of the house and into the car, and off to the hospital!

https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=10154661040885257&l=2641612388444060159

The ride to the hospital was AWFUL. I was in full-blown death contractions that were now only 1-2 minutes apart. I took this video during one those short breaks;) As I learned with my labor with Silas, my way of getting through contractions is to walk and then stoop over through the worst of it. NOT to sit buckled in a car seat- OUCH. Poor Jason, it was quite the show;) I swear we hit every red light, which was pointless because there were no other cars on the road! Okay, except for the one red light that we weren't quite as patient to wait through (I mean, we had been waiting for a LONG time and I was in SO much pain). Of course, when we decided to just move on ahead, then there was another car on the road.... ahem.... sorry sir, but really, I'm about to have a baby here!!

We got to the hospital and of course all the "if you are in labor" parking spots were taken, so we just took a clergy spot instead;) I could hardly get myself into the hospital with all the crazy contractions. Once inside, Jason really wanted to get me a wheelchair so he could plow ahead at full speed, but I refused: contractions and me sitting down do NOT mix, remember? When we got to the check-in desk, we had to wait in line, and mother of pearl, I was having such strong, such ugly contractions back to back- not to mention total panic that I was going to have this baby on their hallway floor (why did I take so many pictures and google??). The people checking in in front of me were either not experiencing labor or they were in the baby-contraction stage. Let me tell you, it was all I could do to not be like "yo, some of us are in real labor here, could ya hurry it along please??" But instead I went down the hall to die from contractions and let Jason hold my place in line ;)

Once we had made it through check-in (at 4:07am), they took me to triage. They skipped this step in my labor with Silas, since I was gushing water everywhere, and it definitely was no fun to have to go through this time. Um, hello- YES I'm in active labor here (insert collapse from death contraction). OH, you need to check me now? Yippee. ;) I actually found myself at this point to be much more independent and assertive then I was during labor with Silas (though still quite polite, at least according to Jason- he says he was always impressed with how polite I was to everyone through it all- just to be clear here;)). When they said they had to check me, I asked them to wait and do it as soon as the next contraction ended, since I knew from labor with Silas, getting checked through contractions was utter torture. As soon as the next contraction ended, I succumbed to the check-age. This is where I got to know the lady me and Jason named "gorilla nurse". Let's just say her level of check-age nearly sent me to the moon and back, and as I scooted away from her in pain and with impending doom of the next contraction starting, she decided to yell at me. "Emily!! EMILY!!! Stay with me!!! EMILY!!!!" Please note, this was in a scolding, gorilla-nurse tone and I amazingly (AMAZINGLY) did not yell back;)

Turns out gorilla-nurse said I was already at 6cm and... baby was still breech. My heart sank, for sure. Here I thought, if this baby comes early enough, I won't need a c-section, cause he won't weigh too much!! And if he's still breech, the doctor can flip him!! But Jason asked the question I unfortunately knew in my gut the answer to: "Is it too late for the doctor to flip him?" Gorilla-nurse and the rest of her clan apparently thought this was hilarious as they burst into laughter. Real funny guys, real funny.

Contractions were awesome at this point (har!), and as I went through a really strong one, one of the nurses asked me about my pain scale and said "I take it that one was a 10?" But I knew from Silas' labor it actually could get a tish worse, so I answered her "More like an 8 or 9 actually". Glad I never lost my ability to reason ;) Gorilla nurse was really helpful with the contractions too- I asked Jason to rub my lower back with a flat hand doing circles (this is what felt good to me and helped- I think I should know), and gorilla nurse was like "No, do it like this" and shoved her fist into my lower back- now, I get the whole counter-pressure thing- this wasn't my first rodeo, and with Silas' labor they tried this too, but I'm telling ya, IT DIDN'T HELP. I was trying to tell my husband what to do that I knew would help and really did not need gorilla nurse stepping in to correct us all;) So, as they started getting things prepped for the c-section my mind focused on one and only one important question: when would I be getting the drugs??? The contractions were only getting stronger and uglier, and while gorilla nurse had mentioned getting me something to slow them down, it didn't look likely to actually happen (and it never did). I also knew, unlike the pain of the contractions with Silas' labor, that these contractions were utterly pointless since I was going to be having a c-section. Nothing like experiencing such tremendous pain without any point to it at all- uff. They then responded to my drug request by giving me a lot of play-by-plays of what would happen over the next chunk of time, and I wanted to burst out "I don't care, just DO it all so I can get the drugs and not have this baby breech on your floor!" But instead I doubled over from contractions. Finally the anesthesiologist came in, and I'm pretty sure I've never, ever been so happy to meet someone in my life. Unfortunately he introduced himself and then went right into a whole speech of what the drugs were and how it was going to happen, blah blah- I DON'T CARE, GET ME THE GOODS AND SOMEONE MOVE THIS C-SECTION TRAIN ALONG PAH-LEEEEEEZE." But instead of actually shouting all that, I remained polite and thought about my funeral.

Finally, they showed me the wheelchair I had to get in so they could truck me down to the O.R.- great, now I really do have to sit in one of those;) That was a LONG hallway we had to get down (it really wasn't- but heavens it felt like 10 miles). They wheeled me along while I died from contractions and threw all whoa-I'm-in-public-now decency out the window. As we neared the O.R., I finally had one moment of calm and hope when I heard my doctor's voice (note, when I had Silas my doc was on vaca in Rhode Island and I had a surprise, new-to-me doctor. This time I really didn't expect to have my doctor there because this practice had 7 doctors who all just rotated days for deliveries). Up to this point, I was somewhat on the fence about my doctor- I mean I really was happy with him over-all, but not quite as sold-out as I was with Silas' doc (mainly due to my loyalty issues;)). But at the moment I heard him say hello to us and saw him there, I became totally sold-out. I was so relieved to see a familiar face, and realized in that moment how much I did indeed trust him. We got in the O.R. and by now the contractions were definitely hitting "10" level; and unfortunately Jason was not in the O.R. yet (I hadn't even realized he was gone, until soon after we got in there and I couldn't find him. My sweet doctor noticed my frantic eyes searching and let me know he was getting prepped and would be in there once we were all ready. Again, another A+ for my doc who was still aware of me and communicating well with me, amongst the chaos.) Well, husband gone meant no hand to death-squeeze, so as I felt the doom of another contraction about to start, I burst out "Can I squeeze someone's hand??" My doc and another nurse were very gracious to let me kill their hands- at one point my doctor joked (maybe somewhat seriously?) "Hey, I'm gonna need that hand for surgery!" Har, har! I almost considered this and relinquished some force, but then as the contraction grew stronger I decided I needed to squeeze harder instead ;) I heard a nurse or someone ask the anesthesiologist "Should we put monitors on?" and let me tell you, I could SEE that packet with the spinal tap. I could SEE the anesthesiologist. But I could NOT see the light at the end of this pain tunnel- it felt like to me everyone was dawdling and dragging their feet through the whole process and relief would never come. Now, I recognize that this couldn't have quite been the case- we checked into the hospital at 4:07am and Judah arrived at 5:07am- quick!! But maybe it was a little the case, because after the anesthesiologist said yes to getting monitors on, my (awesome) doctor super firmly said "No! We don't need to put monitors on- we know what we need to do! We need to get this baby out, now!" My. Hero. ;) I finally sensed the room snap to the speed of urgency that I was feeling. Next thing I knew I was in the "sit still through contractions" position of death to get the spinal tap. And soon after that, pain free!

In a way though it was then harder than being in labor pains. Instead of thinking about the pain/needing relief of pain/I'll do anything to get rid of this pain, I now could think about what was minutes away from happening.

A c-section, and the arrival of our baby boy.

Whoa.

Just 3 hours sooner was when I woke up to what I wasn't even sure were contractions. And now they were scooting me onto an O.R. table, and I looked up at the huge O.R. light like you'd see on TV, and I thought about how they were about to cut me open, and where was Jason??

I don't remember if it was the doctor or a nurse this time that noticed my panicked eyes searching again, but someone assured me again, he'd be here soon.

I'm convinced we are meant to walk through life together hand in hand with open hands.

With Silas I was so much more open-minded to a c-section. I wasn't this time. Willing, yes. Healthy baby, healthy mama, yes. But here's the deal: I wanted that 2nd time around to be more familiar, not as scary, me not as clueless. I knew the thrill of pushing out a baby while a room full of people cheered you on, and I wanted that thrill again. I wanted a smoother recovery, not a worse one. I didn't want to be cut open, and I really didn't want to be cut open while I was conscious the whole time for it. I wanted to see and hold my baby right away. And I didn't want to be broken physically in 2 places from 2 different types of births.

And I wish I could tell you that these fears and hesitations went away with my overcoming glee at the thought of my baby's soon arrival... that they went away with the strength to do whatever I had to do... but the truth is that all the sudden Jason was there and the curtain was up and I was left just as a head, and they told me I would feel some pressure, and I just had to stare at Jason's eyes the whole time to keep from thinking about what I was feeling and what was happening to me. And I cried. And I cried and I cried through the whole thing, and I stared at Jason with the strongest gaze and he was so precious as he locked eyes back and rested his hand on my head and stroked my forehead with his thumb and he prayed for me.

And I cried and tried not to think about the pressure.

Maybe it's because they often refer to vaginal deliveries as just that, you deliver your baby; but then you hear about a c-section and it's when they take the baby; and that's how it felt. It felt like they took him. Like I didn't deliver him. Like this happened to me, and I felt like a victim, laying there with only my head and then the curtain, and then when he came out, I saw him for not even a second before they took him away and I had to lay there for 40 minutes being sown up, unable to see him and unable to be a part of what everyone else was a part of in that room.

And I asked a million times, over and over, "Is he okay?" "Is he okay?" "Is he okay?" Because he had to be on oxygen and so he wasn't crying and I couldn't see him, and everyone else could, and I was petrified that everyone else could see something they didn't want me to know. "Is he okay??"

And there was a nurse at my head who was an angel, she kept trying to tell me as much of what was going on as she could: they're doing this with him, he's doing that... she was amazing. She even then offered to wipe off all my smeared and streaming non-water-proof eye make-up so I'd be ready for some pictures when the time came, and when it did, she offered to take many!

And he was okay, and after an eternity they brought him to Jason who rested sweet Judah at my head:

Finally.

Judah Elias Hart was born at 5:07am, 7 lbs. 9 oz. and 20 inches long. And he was perfect :)

They then wheeled me in the bed back to my room and situated me there- holy tags/IVs/and random junk I was connected to! They even had my legs wrapped in these things that vibrated to keep them from clotting. I felt pretty smothered;) But very happy to be through the surgery and settled in our room as the 3 of us!

Soon after getting settled though, the itchiness and nausea hit- fun side effects from the spinal and over-all trauma of the surgery. As the nausea increased, so did my dread. I told Jason I was getting very nauseous, but that I COULDN'T throw up- no, no, no way- this was gonna HURT. And as I explained to him all the reasons I couldn't dare throw up, and he non-chalently looked for a trash can, I then proceeded to lose it- alllll over myself and the bed (sitting up/bending over were not possible to do myself at this point. Of course, puking itself was quite the trip having just had major abdominal surgery;)). Uff.

The nausea was done after that though, and they got me some meds for the itching (and a dry washcloth to use- I scratched that thing all over my face relentlessly!;)).

The crazy thing about a c-section is you kinda feel like you never really finished the labor pains. Not that the recovery pains are the same as labor pains, but the still-being-in-a-ton-of-pain feeling was quite there. I had alot of... girly... pain after Silas' birth for sure. But this was definitely worse. It's amazing to me how many things we do require the use of our abdomen- I could do nearly nothing in the movement realm without help from someone. If I started to move in a way that used my stomach muscles, I swiftly stopped from the agony of it. Thankfully they kept me on some strong drugs, and boy could I tell when it was getting near time to take more. I found myself focusing on my feet a lot, since they weren't in pain and I could move them myself. It may sound silly, but it seriously really helped to just think about that.

The time in the hospital though was just about as euphoric as the stay with Silas was. I will say, this hospital wasn't quite as fabulous as his was (maybe partly though because apparently every woman in Greenville decided to give birth those next couple of days- they said their rooms were full and they had women waiting in delivery rooms still to be moved to regular rooms!) but it was still great, and I had just as much of a "just-had-a-baby-high" as I did with Silas:) I really enjoyed the time with Jason- we got to talk a lot and snuggle Judah and watch TV and in a strange way it felt like a date;) It was also great to get time with just Judah, since coming home meant juggling 2 boys, and having to divide attention.

Recovery in the hospital was certainly rough- I doubt I'll ever forget the first time they had me practice walking- even with Jason and a nurse helping me, it took forever and felt like climbing Mt. Everest. But while recovery was certainly difficult physically in the hospital and also once home, it became also very difficult emotionally once home. It's one thing to be a patient in the hospital- that makes sense. The hospital bed made sense. The constant need for help made sense. And it was re-assuring to have nurses constantly checking on me and Judah. But once home, I didn't want to be a patient any more. It didn't feel right. I wanted to be a mama. I wanted to be a wife. I wanted to feel human;) I didn't want to be so needy and dependent and un-well in my home. I couldn't even sit down or stand up without help. Not to mention I also came home to my precious 2 year old who just wanted "Mommy truck?"- Silas language for "Mommy play with me?" I wanted to play with him! I wanted to hold him and care for him, and be the same mommy to him I was before rushing off to the hospital. But I couldn't. And with all this emotion, I was still in plenty of pain- heavens. It was crazy the new "fears" you face post-c-section: the fear of sneezing, coughing or laughing- OUCH. The fear of things being too far out of reach! The fear of dropping things (nope, can't pick it up! Curse you gravity!;)). Needing help for so many seemingly simple things was quite overwhelming. Yeah, transitioning to home was NOT easy.

And even though you need so much help and are so dependent and are so limited, you still don't get a "plush" recovery. I mean, normally you'd have surgery and load up on movies and snacks. Take it easy for a while, pamper your poor self. Not so much the case with a c-section. You get to have major abdominal surgery and spend recovery with a newborn (and whichever other lils you have at home). So recovery from this surgery gets to be joined with intense sleep deprivation, night sweats, breast feeding, engorgement, shifting hormones, baby blues, diaper changes, and other mommy-related/postpartum joys.

Please know, I'm not saying any of this to complain, and I'm certainly not saying all this was anything less than TOTALLY worth it- I'm just telling my story, and in a way wanting to write it down so I don't forget how hard this was. Is? I don't want to forget this, because down the road when memories fade and I know of that young mama who has a c-section, I want to be there for her like so many have been there for me. I want to relate to what she's going through. I want to not sugar coat it with her, and I want to avoid phrases like "Enjoy every moment!" ;)

Thankfully (or whatever word means thankfully 1,000x stronger) my in-laws were able to come in from Iowa as soon as they knew we had Judah. They took over caring for Silas for our other friends when they arrived, and were able to stay for my first week home, and helped immensely! Then Jason was able to take off work for a week and a half after they left. So I had a good chunk of time to have lots of help before jumping back into full gear.

There were tons of other ways people helped too- several helped with meals, watching Silas, encouragement and prayers, and gifts.

Feeling like you are so helpless (because really, you are) and needy is NOT easy- it is humbling and challenging in so many ways. From the moment I went to the hospital, dignity and pride said sayonara- and unfortunately they didn't come back as we left the hospital;) I am forever especially grateful to my husband who has definitely made it through some "or worse" times with me in our marriage. And he didn't just make it through, y'all- he's absolutely shined as my sweet, tender, caring prince. Beyond grateful.

And so I'm convinced, we are meant to walk through life together hand in hand with open hands. God designed us to need each other and serve each other and help each other- to be channels for Him of His love and goodness and care. I truly cannot imagine if I had gone through this without my husband. Without my in-laws. Without my parents. Without all our family. Without our friends. Without my brothers and sisters in Christ. Holding hands, and opening theirs to me with such generosity and kindness and help. And I just want to live that way too, I want to be there for people, with my time and gifts and help and love and support. I want to hold hands back and live open-handedly and never, ever forget that this is how God designed us, and this is how we show Jesus, and this is how we love. And this is how we get through, and how He gets us through.

And getting through this has not been easy and it has not been pretty or glamorous and yes, my body is broken in 2 places from 2 different types of births, and that can be hard and that can be weird, but it was to give 2 lives; and really it reminds me of the One Who's body was ultimately broken for us to give us all life.

And the unbelievable joy and magic of being a mom and having two amazing boys is SO worth all the cost. And my love and appreciation for my incredible husband could not be deeper. I am SO thankful and praise Jesus for my wonderful family!!

A few more pictures!

Jason after the c-section and us getting Judah!!

Me after the c-section was over!

Judah getting oxygen (during the eternal wait where I couldn't see or hear him!)

Our family of 4!!! (I will add, it was weird not having Silas at the hospital all the time- unlike when we had him, our family just wasn't complete at the hospital when he wasn't there!:))