Everett Terrance : Born Monday August 27th, 2018 at 5:35am. 8lbs 1oz.
There is nothing like the fear you feel when thinking about labour and delivery with your first child. You get through it, and survive, as much as you can survive, having a watermelon shred your downstairs. So, in theory, the second time around should be less...terrifying, and somewhat easier because the trail has been blazed. Not in my case...
If you read my blog about labour and delivery with Zoe, you know I had it pretty darn easy for my first born. Some poor women go hours, even days in hard excruciating labour. I was thirteen hours from start to finish, my second child should practically fly out of my vag. During labour with Zoe, I told Julian I wasn't going to have another kid! I am sure all women in labour say that. Obviously, I was bullshitting since I got pregnant again shortly before Zoe's second birthday. Of course, the second time around, I thought of what labour might be like with this one. I never could have imagined.
Since Zoe had been so quick, relatively speaking. The general consensus with my family, doctors and nurses, we all assumed that this one was going to be easy as well, if not even easier! I would think fondly back to the euphoria I felt after giving birth to Zoe. It was indescribable. Just this amazing feeling of calmness, and no pain at all, and the cold i had been sporting for 2 months was miraculously gone. I thought that was a thing that every woman felt, and I would feel again. Almost like an addiction. I wanted to feel that good again. When I phoned to make an appointment at the maternity clinic, the nurse asks those general questions to put in your file. Do you smoke? Do drugs? etc, etc. They began asking me about my delivery with Zoe. I recalled after I delivered Zoe, the doctor instructed me to warn everyone about the pace I delivered, because, in theory, subsequent children should be easier. Only in theory, I assure you, but read on. Informed nurse the basic easiness that I delivered Zoe, the nurse, was shocked to say the least, instructed me that I would need to let the doctors know at my appointments so they were up to date and that when my due date got closer to be very vigilant. As opposed to what...nonchalant? Girl I know that once shit starts up to get going. How wrong everyone was.
According to Doctors and ultrasounds, my due date was September 3rd. Now I was very diligent on tracking my periods and happy fun time with Julian, before getting pregnant. But coming off birth control, made my periods some what random at timing, while also very heavy, intense, and looooong. But, even after all that, it would have taken immaculate conception, because I do not believe Julian and I did the horizontal tango when they said. I thought they were off by a week or so, that I had August 23 in my app as my due date. Ironically, I had to go for a measurement sonogram around 37 weeks I think, because the baby was measuring larger than where I was "suppose" to be. Almost like I was farther along than their estimate, but wouldn't change their minds, because sonograms were very accurate. Ok Sheila, whatever you say. I went for a prenatal check on Wednesday August 22nd, doctors inform me I am 2cm dilated, and 50% effaced. Doctor assumed I'd deliver by Friday. **there was a lot of assumptions made this pregnancy, looking back** Fast forward to August 26....
Beautiful Sunday morning, at around 9:15am, I was laying in bed, about to get up to go to the bathroom. When this bit of warm liquid came out. My first thought was, "Shit, I just pissed the bed! Couldn't make it five steps!!" Then WAAAAY more liquid came out "SHIT SHIT SHIT" as I waddle run to the toilet. "Juliaaaaan" in my most whimsical musical voice. He innocently wanders into our ensuite.
Me: "hey yeah, so my water broke...."
J: "WHAT! Ok I'll call your parents, and my mom"
Me: "Okie dokie...."
J: *makes the calls* "Ok everyone is on their way. Are you having contrac.."
Me:*still sitting on toilet* "I'm so pissed about the bed!!!!"
J: "Are you having contractions? When do we go to the hospital after your water breaks?"
Me: "Idk I didn't read that part of the instructions at the Doc's!"
*since they had to break my water after 12 hours of labour with Zoe, I naively thought it wouldn't break this time either*
***ONLY 15% OF WOMEN HAVE THEIR MEMBRANES BREAK BEFORE ACTUAL LABOUR BEGINS.***
Julian and I decided to wait for a bit, since I wasn't having outrageous contractions. I sat down, had some breakfast while the grandparents started funneling into our house. My contractions, were all over the place. Some extremely painful, while others felt like period cramps. And timing them was near impossible. After some prodding from the parents, Julian, my mother and I, hopped in the truck to head to the hospital. My MIL and father, stayed back to watch Zoe and Oakley. Say about 11ish.
In the triage room for the maternity ward, nurses and doctors couldn't verify my water had broken from my super jumbo pad I had been sporting. They sent me downstairs, to go pound sand for 2 hours and perhaps it would jump start labour. I was secretly, not so secretly, pissed!!!! This was just like Zoe. Had to walk my ass around the hospital, back and forth, back and forth. Eventually we ended up at the restaurant since Julian wanted some lunch. I just walked around in bloody circles. Exhausted already and I had only been at this 3.5 hours. This baby better be quick and easy and basically fall out of me. I took a seat at a bench to break after walking for 2 solid hours in a circle. As I sat down, some more membrane decide to saturate my pants and seat...Julian ran and brought some napkins to clean up, then we had the slow, and most uncomfortable walk upstairs. There is nothing more uncomfortable than walking in wet sweat pants!! My contractions are definitely harder than before my walking marathon, but compared to the contractions after walking around the hospital with Zoe, they weren't that bad. **I compared everything to how Zoe's labour was, even though I knew the labours were probably going to be drastically different, I just didn't know how different.**
Back up in the triage room, they noticed I had let some membrane loose, but they didn't see...I guess mucus or something *been a year, my memory not so good*. Doctor was hesitant to send me home, since this was my second, the quickness of Zoe's arrival after the membrane rupture, and them knowing my water was breaking...in pieces. They gave me a gown to walk in since my pants were messed, (after I asked for a gown, since my pants were messed *insert eye roll*). This time, the three of us, just set up camp in the waiting room where there was a tv. It's about 2pm at this point. Julian and I had a nice little day date, watching Die Hard with a Vengeance. My contractions seemed to almost come to a complete halt at this point. None ever reached a minute. Sometimes they were even 10 minutes apart! I saw woman after woman stroll in, looking in considerable more pain than I was in. I couldn't figure out what happened. Why wasn't the water breaking kick starting labour? 2 hours go by at a snail's pace. Back to triage, nothing has changed. Still at 2cms. We get sent home, simply because we live down the road from the hospital. Instructed to come back at 9pm (12 hours since my water first broke) to be induced, or if the contractions were 1 minute apart, and lasting a minute. Not happy, since I didn't want to labour in front of Zoe, a perpetual worrier.
I think it must have been about 6pm when we got home. Very long day, without a lot of progress. My mother had gone to collect some things, my MIL had made dinner, while I set up camp on my couch and slowly but surely started getting the most painful contractions. Zoe hated seeing me in pain so I would try to put on a brave face and snuggle her, but when those contractions came on, I was immobilized and just shut my eyes and tried to breathe through it. Then Zoe would climb on me which would exacerbate the pain by a million!!! Hard to explain to a 2 and a half year old to not cuddle mommy, when she saw I was hurting and she felt bad for me. Meanwhile, my water broke a grand total of 4 more times! It would happen with a contraction, and as the contraction got worse, the more membrane would soak my pants and towel, then couch. In hindsight, I should have come up with an alternative location to labour in, bottomless, like the shower, but give me a break.
After soaking 4 pairs of pants (I'm running low on pants that fit my pregnant ass, so this is becoming a worry) my contractions were shedding 30 seconds off every time I had one, and lasting about a minute. I remember vividly, sitting on the toilet while more membrane broke, Julian saying "Alright lets go!" It was maybe about 7:30pm, so close enough to 9. Get back up to triage. Water breaking with every contraction all over the hospital floor, and as I am climbing up into the exam bed, just letting loose everywhere. Upon examination, I had only dilated A CENTIMETER! What the actual F!?!?! I was basically pushing by this time with Zoe!! They didn't have a labour room for me right away, because apparently all the babies that night decided to be difficult, all the nurses were held up with emergency C-sections **bless you mama's who have to go through that. No effing thanks!!** So they wanted me to go out to the waiting room again. "Um...no, I'm going to hang right here" as this was the comfiest I had been since the labour went into overdrive. From 8pmish to 1015pmish I was in the triage room, waiting for a nurse to be available. Side note: I hadn't dilated at all that whole time!
I thought, you know since I had been in such excruciating pain for so long, and basically tsunami'd everywhere I walked, that when my time came for a room, the lovely nurse would have a wheelchair. NOPE! They made my ass walk the green mile to my room! I should state here, I did this natural, like a moron. Why I felt the need to have 2 natural births is beyond me. I guess my thinking was, "Oh, Zoe wasn't bad, and I did that natural, so I can do it again" It crossed my mind many a time to get that epidural, but I was constantly assured that I was going to have this baby before midnight, based on how hard I was labouring, and just the sheer duration of my labour. So, I was going to tough it out, because I didn't have much longer. Doctors would come check, and I HADN'T DILATED AT ALL. 'I'm sorry, but what is happening!!! I should have had this MOFO by now! Somebody get up in there and pull it out! I watched the clock. Midnight ticked by. Then 1am. 2am. I gotta start feeling that urge to push any moment now. They figured out, the baby was OP **Occiput Posterior Position**, which is just fancy for the baby is facing up not down, which means its not putting adequate pressure on the cervix to dilate it. Well fuck.
Upon hearing this news, I had to get on all fours with the hopes the changing position will turn the baby. Now know this, I HATE, moving when in labour. I never moved once when labouring with Zoe. Well one time, I got on my side, but quickly went back cause it hurt more. So the thought of moving, especially 180 degrees seemed unfathomable. But after 18 hours of labour or something like that, I would do anything. But then the damn doctor kept coming in and wanting to do checks, to see my progress, that I would have to get back on my back. Like seriously, you can't just quick check me like this? Took me like 3 contractions to get from one position to the other only to be told I had dilated like a cm and the baby was still OP. Back to doggy style I go. I will admit, not laying on my back was a bit better, but still no fun to get back and forth. One of the checks consisted of the doctor noticing I still had membrane intact, and PROCEEDED TO BREAK IT UP WITH HER FINGERS WHILE I CONTRACTED. I almost kicked her. Talk began about induction, and I said do it! Get it over with! Induction happens roughly at 4am **my times are most probably not accurate**
I'm still on all fours, trying to turn this son of bitch around! I begin feeling such pain in my butt, which I don't get right away is my urge to push. I somehow muster the strength to turn around and get into labour position. I'm now dilated 9.5cm, but I cannot stop the urge to push. Now, rewind 2.5 years, when I had Zoe. My sweet baby girl, came out in 2 pushes, and I don't even really remember pushing. This kid, took 12 minutes of pushing. **which I know isn't long, but for me it might as well have been forever** And I couldn't even push right. I wasn't pushing down towards my butt, I kept squeezing my legs together which was super frustrating! This part becomes very foggy for me. I remember the nurses telling me to push for 10 seconds, every contraction, then when it got to the legs, baby got stuck mid push. I yelled "JUST PULL IT OUT" Finally, at 5:35am, our son was born at 8lbs, 1 oz and 21 inches. The doctor wanted to show me, since we didn't do a gender reveal, so I sat up and saw boys bits and laid back down. This may sound cold, but I was mentally and physically exhausted seconds after he tore my situation a new one! I had 2nd degree tears, which required stitches. I did not feel the euphoria I had with Zoe. I was incredibly uncomfortable after 20 hours of labour, could you blame me. But when I got to snuggle his sweetness, the discomfort all went away.
Shortly after Everett's birth, my Dad came to pick up my mom, and Julian went home to get some sleep before Zoe woke up. Then I tried to sleep while we had some quiet time. We were lucky that the nurses thought Everett was perfect, and we discharged same day. Thankfully, because I didn't want to be away from Zoe all day and night! They we were a happy family of four.
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