This is a photo of me having a contraction and Jack looking at me like "what's going on, mom?"
I find that pretty amusing in retrospect. So, the time-stamp on those photos shows they were taken at 10:30. Shortly after that, or before, I'm not sure which, I talked with my doula about the contractions and how they didn't seem to be going anywhere (12 minutes apart, 5 minutes apart, 15 minutes apart, sometimes only lasting 10 seconds) and she said, yes, early labor like that can last for a while, even in 2nd and 3rd pregnancies. Your subsequent births are supposed to go faster than your first, but apparently that rule doesn't take effect until labor starts in earnest. So try to get some sleep, she suggested. I called big sister and she said the same thing ("you might not deliver until Friday!"), so even though I highly doubted my ability it sleep in 15-minute-or-less chunks, I decided to give it a try. I had finished up my work, taken my final belly photos, at 11am it was time to go back to bed.
As soon as I laid down, the first two contractions I had were 6 minutes apart, the next were 5 minutes apart, then 4 minutes, then 3, and I thought, hmm, they can't really get much closer than this, can they? Three minutes when they last a minute is really only two minutes free from pain, by the way, in case that's not clear. Seeing as how the space between these contractions was shrinking faster than Alice in Wonderland, I called the husband who was outside swapping cars and getting the infant carseat out of storage (because we learned nothing from the last experience and had again done zero preparation... although to be fair I guess what we learned is that babies can come very late and so I still had thought I had plenty of time) and told him "hey, things are... happening!" he called the doula back, and she came over. What felt like an eternity later, Danny still struggling with the carseat, so it couldn't have actually been an eternity, I called him again but couldn't even talk by this point, so I think he took that as his cue to come inside, and madly started packing bags again. The doula arrived, assessed, and said, "yep, time to go to the hospital" and led me out to the car in the rain. (We were lucky it was only rain; it had hailed earlier that morning, something I had never seen in Oakland before, and a very memorable event for my little girl's birthday, I thought.)
Pretty much the most uncomfortable ride I'd ever had, over to the hospital. Certainly must've been worse than last time because they brought me a wheelchair; with Jack I'd walked in (pausing occasionally to lean on Danny or the doula, but still, on my own two feet). Certainly, nothing was like last time, so I should have stopped comparing by now. We passed by triage and they took me right to my own delivery room. The nurse was unable to locate my chart or any of my pre-registration information that I had so diligently filled out over the internet, and was asking me random questions like my pre-pregnancy weight and the results of my strep-B test, which I astounded myself with my ability to answer between what felt like the weight of the earth pushing down on me from the inside. Once she took note of how quickly they were coming now, she paused in her quest for paperwork completion and decided to check me for dilation. Please let me be at least halfway, I prayed to myself, because last time I came in at 5cm and if I was less than that I was going to go out of my mind because I couldn't imagine going for as long as I did last time (even though it wasn't that long, compared to many!) with the intensity of this time. "That's a good 9 cm!" she said. The world snapped into focus for a brief moment and I celebrated for 30 seconds before hunkering down again.
Things went very quickly from then on. Let's be honest, things went very quickly, period, but I start to lose track of events from then on. A doctor was called, a birthing ball was offered, and rejected, I couldn't imagine leaving the side of the bed at that point. Somehow they got me to sit back, I guess to be checked again, and then they converted the bed into a kind of chair (wonder-bed!) and I stayed there for the remainder. Water had to be broken, all over the doula's rain boots-- but at least she was wearing rain boots! I kept waiting to go through transition, which last time had felt like I was going to die or split in two or maybe both, but I either never got there or it wasn't as big a deal this time because as soon as the water was broken it was time to push.
Pushing last time was like this standing on top of a mountain kind of feeling, exhilarating, empowering, the contractions ceased to hurt and instead were the source of my energy that I was harnessing to get the baby out. Maybe I have romanticized it after the fact, but I don't think so, because the rest of it remains an un-rosy shade of painful. But I kept waiting to get to the part where it wasn't going to hurt anymore, where I was going to feel invincible, and this time I never got there. Danny mentioned to someone that last time I had had oxygen and the doula said "oh that was for the baby, because they couldn't get a read on him" and a nurse said "well, we have oxygen, she can have it if she wants." My brain decided that OXYGEN must have been the missing ingredient, the secret of my superpowers last time, so I nodded fiercely, "YES. WANT OXYGEN." They put it on me and I took a few greedy gulps and nothing happened. Except now I had this thing on my face that was vaguely annoying so I waved it away after a few more breaths. The nurse was probably shaking her head at me, silly lady, what did she think was going to happen. I was so tired. They kept telling me the next one would be the one, for sure, and then the next one. I didn't seem to be getting any closer. They kept telling me try for three on each contraction, ten seconds each, one more Becky, you can do it, but I could only do two. How on earth could I do three? What were they talking about? And then I did three, and she was there. But stuck. One more! screamed the doctor, so from some untapped reserve I didn't know I had, I pushed once more. One more! screamed the doctor again, and I was like "you are freaking kidding me" but I obeyed. I had no breath left, nothing to bear down on, but somehow I was doing it. And then she was out. And the most overwhelming relief of my life was flooding through me, as I thought, I never have to do that again. EVER! And oh yes, my baby. Oh that's great, too.
Would it make me seem like less of a goddess if I told you all that pushing only lasted 10 minutes? Sure felt like longer! Sadie Grace was very patient in letting her mommy get her work done and get all her odds and ends neatly arranged, but once she made up her mind to come, she was in one hell of a hurry. Three hours after labor started in earnest, less than an hour after we got to the hospital, she was here. I now sort of understand how my grandma had her fifth baby while her husband was still looking for parking.
She is a very sweet, snuggly baby. Very sleepy. We've only seen her eyes about twice so far, but they are dark, dark blue, just like Jack's were. I haven't managed a photo shoot with the two of them yet, but he has enjoyed pointing at her and kissing her and every time he wakes up (from nap or first thing in the morning), he asks about her. Sadie brought him a walrus upon returning home from the hospital, and I think that has endeared her to him greatly. So far he is a very protective big brother of baby Sadie (which he calls her as though it's her full name. Baby Sadie.). She hasn't cried much, but when she has, he gets very alarmed. I think he's going to have a lot of fun with her as she grows up.
Welcome to the world, Sadie Grace! We are so glad you've come!
3 comments:
Thanks Becky -- that was a great update, with beautiful pictures. She looks a little like Jack -- but with dark hair. I hope she will have his beautiful blue eyes. Today at the Science Museum with the boys we learned that newborns can only focus on faces that are about 3-4 inches away. Hopefully she won't get Jack's cold!
Oh, what a lovely narrative. Thanks for sharing! She's lovely and looks so much like you as a baby! Congratulations!
Wow -- she looks just beautiful straight out of the womb (and cleaned up). She really doesn't look like she has been through a uterine wringer at all.
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