Matthew Ajax: Our Gift from God

Normally it takes me a few days--or weeks--to write the birth stories of my children, but my heart is so full of joy and gratitude that this one cannot wait.



We have always wanted to have six children in our family--that was something we dreamed and planned about as an engaged couple talking about our family and our future. After Nathan's birth and the ensuing physical and emotional damage, it seemed for years that five children would be it for us. We gave away all of our baby things and moved on with plans for a family of five children under the assumption that my physical and mental health would not support the last child that we had dreamed and planned for so long. This was a period of intense mourning in so many ways, and I cried as each article of clothing or piece of baby furniture left our home.



What has become so clear to me over the past months and has been driven home with lightning-bolt force over the last 24 hours is that Matthew, our sixth child, is a very literal gift from God, sent to bring us joy that we could never have anticipated during the very dark years following Nathan's birth. I have been overwhelmed again and again by very clear impressions of God's love and tender care for our family. Last night as I was holding Matthew and praying I was literally in tears as I felt like the Savior was sitting there next to me in the dark of my hospital room, telling me that Matthew is the answer to so many prayers and so much wondering about whether we are doing the right thing with our lives, and a very clear confirmation that my choice to be a mother is the thing that God wants for me more than anything, and that this baby is a literal manifestation of God's love for us and His perfect plan for our happiness. I have felt so full of light and joy the past two days--all of my worries about adding a newborn at a very stressful stage in Neil's doctoral program and the potential for another bout with postpartum depression have literally been lifted from my mind and all that is left is peace, joy, and hope and an absolutely overwhelming knowledge of God's love that washes away all of the deepest doubts and worries I have been privately battling for several years--about our life choices, about our time in graduate school, and about my faith and relationship with God. I cannot even describe the enormous weight that has been lifted from my mind and my heart--I literally feel like I have been reborn with so much faith, courage, hope, and surety.



Matthew's name is derived directly from this knowledge--its Hebrew translation means "gift from God." As we were pondering what we should name him, none of the names we tried seemed to fit, but we kept coming back to Matthew as we listened to this John Denver song about a cherished son growing up in love and joy. Finally--after a lot of prayer and discussion--we reached out to some dear loved ones who had named their beloved son Matthew before his death in infancy. We shared with them that we felt that this name was one which would fit our son, but that we were hesitant to use it in memory of their son. They were so incredibly gracious and encouraged us to go ahead.

His middle name, Ajax, is derived from our love of skiing as our very favorite pastime as a couple and a family and our incredible time in Aspen skiing Ajax Mountain, which we have talked over and over and over about making a yearly family tradition as soon as we are able to do so.



My pregnancy with Matthew was so different from my past pregnancies. It has been--by far--the easiest of all of my pregnancies. I have been blessed with strength and resilience that does not match either my age, my medical history, or the reserves that one would expect from a woman going through pregnancy for the sixth time and who had been on periodic bedrest for my last 3 pregnancies. I was able to recover from a stress fracture just prior to his conception and continued running throughout the entire pregnancy--the first day I took off because I didn't feel up to working out was the day before his birth. The five miles I walked while I was in labor with him brought my total mileage to 931 miles for the pregnancy, including two half-marathons at 15 and 20 weeks. I kept my mileage at 30 miles per week right up to the very end--for comparison, with Luke and Nathan I was only running 12 mpw from about 14 weeks onwards!

My labor with Matthew is the first one where I felt fully in control, calm, and empowered throughout the entire process. There was never a time where I felt unsure or unable to process what was happening in that moment. This was an enormous blessing, especially after the trauma of Nathan's delivery, where things escalated very quickly to the point where I was literally voiceless due to a sudden blood pressure drop.

We chose to schedule an induction on my due date after a week of constant and unproductive contractions. (I have never gone into labor on my own, and after quite a bit of reading during the last week I think I may fall into the category of women who have prodromal labors, where an induction or C-section is the typical result after weeks of nonprogressive labor with consistent contractions.) Unlike my previous inductions where I really stressed and worried about whether we should continue to wait, I felt very assured and confident about the decision to go ahead with a scheduled induction.

In the past, I have tried lots of different methods of pain relief--epidurals, morphine, Lamaze, the Bradley method, hypnobirthing--and every single delivery has been marked by a lengthy and protracted labor, extreme pain, crying, and a feeling afterwards that if only I'd been more courageous, or more determined, I would have been better able to deal with the pain. I've felt ashamed of my physical and mental weakness, which really peaked during Nathan's birth when both the midwife and the nurse were very demeaning and ended with several months of treatment sessions with a birth trauma specialist.  

This time, I decided that I was going to get an epidural as soon as I started feeling uncomfortable. I wanted to be an active, calm, and reasoned participant in my final childbirth. My beloved OB, who delivered both Isaac and Luke, broke my water just before 8 am. Neil and I walked 4 miles up and down the halls (I wore my running shoes and my Garmin so that I would be able to time things effectively and wouldn't have the sore feet/ankles that have resulted from too much barefoot walking with other births!) and then spent about twenty minutes in the delivery room so that the nurse could get a better record of Matthew's heartbeat, since the wireless monitors were not working well. When we began walking again, my contractions increased dramatically in intensity. From my previous labors, I knew that the early stages of labor would go quite slowly and then very quickly once I passed 4 cm, so if I wanted to get an epidural, it needed to be very early on before most conventional wisdom would suggest its use. For a few minutes, I wondered whether I was making a mistake and would slow my labor down too much, but then I felt very clearly that I should trust my understanding of my body and my recollection of previous labors. During Nathan's labor there was a lot of conflict with the midwife, who did not believe my assessment of my labor's progression, and so it was so calming to me to feel much more in charge of this one, thanks to a wonderfully supportive OB who told me that I was in the lead and that she was working on my timeline and what I felt I needed at the time when I felt I needed it.

So--I asked for an epidural based on how I was feeling and my predicted estimation of how I would be feeling in an hour when the epidural was complete, and my OB approved the order without ever checking my dilation. This was the first epidural I had received early enough in labor to not be shaking and contracting miserably while it was installed, and it made all the difference in the world to be able to breathe quietly through contractions that were 3 minutes apart rather than shaking violently through contractions every 60 seconds! I was so grateful to feel like myself in terms of being able to remember the name of each of the medical staff who came in the room, talk clearly with them about my care, and thank them for their efforts--one of the things that has distressed me most about previous labors is feeling like I lose the ability to be patient, courteous, and grateful for what the medical staff are doing. In my daily life, I really value being able to talk with people, use their names, and thank them for their help, and it was SO important to me to preserve that during this labor.

Once the epidural was in just after 12:30 I was able to rest quietly for about twenty minutes before my doctor came in, checked dilation, and told me I was at a 4, which was exactly where I was hoping to be. Based on previous labors, I knew that getting to a 4 was the hardest and lengthiest part for me, and that getting the epidural before 4 cm was integral to managing the pain before things accelerated to the point where any pain relief efforts would never catch up before delivery. We agreed to start a Pitocin drip to regularize my contractions, which had slowed after all of the fluid administered just prior to the epidural. This was something that I had expected and anticipated, so it wasn't at all distressing. I asked the anesthesiologist to adjust the epidural dosage, as I began feeling quite a bit of pain again with the Pitocin, and he brought things to a point where I could feel each contraction, breathe quietly through it, and still feel like I was aware of and controlling the process without being overwhelmed by pain. When I began to feel shaky and cold after another hour, with increasing pain from the contractions, I knew that delivery was close. My nurse agreed, reminded me that all of the running I had done had resulted in a very strong pelvic floor that would minimize the pushing stage, and told me that I would be meeting my baby in a matter of moments. She called in my doctor, who came in quickly and within minutes everything was set up for Matthew's birth. The doctor told me that they were ready whenever I was ready, and that we were working on my timeline. I waited just a moment longer for a clearly-defined contraction before I began pushing, and Matthew was born before the contraction finished. Everything was peaceful, calm, and I felt totally in control of the process and utterly in harmony with my body and the messages it was giving me. I was so grateful for the quiet joy that was a constant presence throughout the labor and delivery in such marked contrast to all of my other deliveries.

And then they handed me my beautiful son and I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and peace. I know I'm saying this over and over, but it was the most calm birth environment I could possibly have imagined or hoped for. Everyone was quiet, unhurried, and completely supportive of proceeding at my pace on my timeline. I held Matthew while Neil cut the cord--something which he's never done for any of the other babies, but I asked him to do it for this last one and he obliged.

After Matthew was born, there were some complications with the placenta, and it ended up taking about 45 minutes to complete the last stages of delivery. Even with this, I was still calm and trusting that everything would be fine--I somehow managed to carry on a conversation with the medical team for the next 45 minutes even while they were forcibly extracting the placenta (I was SO GLAD I had an epidural at that point). While I knew all of the things that could go wrong and all of the complications that could result, I was so at peace and able to just relax and trust that everything would be fine. If you know me at all, this is not characteristic of my personality! 

After the delivery concluded, we spent the next few hours very quietly in our room with Matthew--he weighed in at 8 lbs, 3 oz, measured 21.5 inches long, and was born at 3:37 PM on September 27.

It has been a beautiful, calm, wonderful recovery with him ever since. He is bright-eyed, alert, and such a happy and beautiful baby. We are so grateful for the light and joy that he has brought with him from heaven to our family. 

 

Nathan's birth story

I've written so many different versions of this, but I think enough time has finally passed that I can write one that isn't four pages long full of frustration!  Whew!  As always, you might not want to read this post if details about labor aren't your thing.

Nathan is the first baby where I have gone into labor (sort of) on my own.  When I went in for my 40-week appointment, my midwife was very concerned about how swollen my bad ankle was, and told me that I needed to have the baby ASAP.  Since this had been the reason for induction for my last few babies, I wasn't surprised to hear her assessment.  She did a membrane sweep and told me to come back the next day if I didn't have the baby that night.  I went home, timed contractions until midnight, and then got up at 7 to go in and see her again.  As I was getting ready to go, there was enough bleeding that I knew the baby would be born that day.  I called my mom with an update and she started packing up to travel to our house.

My midwife did another membrane sweep and told me she'd see me at the hospital at some point that day.  I went home with even more contractions and asked Neil to stay home from work until my mom arrived, since I wasn't sure how quickly things would progress.  Neil & I took the boys out and we walked a few miles trying to get my contractions to fall into a consistent pattern.  After a few hours, he left for work just before my mom arrived.  My mom & I spent the afternoon timing contractions.  I was feeling pretty good all day--I remember at one point I was reading Little House in the Big Woods to the kids while I was knitting (still timing contractions) and thinking, wow, natural labor is soooo much better!  My midwife called halfway through the day to check in on me and we planned to meet at the hospital around 6 that night to break my water, if it hadn't already broken.

When my contractions were about 5 minutes apart, I started to get a little worried.  I knew that was the point where we needed to go to the hospital, but they were still pressure without pain.  I called in and was told to just go ahead and come in, so we left for the hospital around 4:30 and walked around the parking lot for awhile.  Then the fun started.

When I was first admitted, Nathan was not moving well, so I spent a reaaaallly long time on the monitor guzzling more orange juice than I ever want to see again.  My contractions slowed to about 7-11 minutes apart at this stage, and I was worried about the baby & discouraged that things seemed to not be progressing.  After a couple of hours of constant monitoring, my midwife broke my water (at this point I was 4 cm dilated) and I started walking the halls.  Sadly, I only got to walk for about half an hour before they put me back in bed on the monitors.  When they finally--finally!--let me back up, we started walking again and suddenly the contractions changed.  They were every 10 minutes and then bam!--out of nowhere, I was hit by contractions every 2 minutes that were the most painful I could remember having in all of my labors.  I literally could not get back to our room, and Neil had to half-carry me there.  I've never screamed with any of my babies, but on the third of the awful contractions, I broke that little no-screaming record.  I honestly can't describe how horrendous these were.  I started shaking like mad and I couldn't concentrate or focus on anything.  In the minute between contractions, I thought that maybe I was in transition and that I should have my midwife check me.  I also realized that based on my previous labors, I had about an hour of dilation for each centimeter up to 7, and then about half an hour after that until it would be time to push. I also decided that I had nothing to prove to anyone anymore and that if I was not very dilated and I'd have time to get an epidural AND have it kick in, I wanted one if I still had hours to go.

So.  I asked my midwife to check me and I was at a 4.5.  This was so discouraging, and I immediately told her I wanted an epidural.  The pain was so intense that I could not focus on anything, and I knew I had a long way to go.  I also knew that if I waited any longer that the epidural would never catch up with my labor.

This is where things started to spiral downwards.  She was very antagonistic about the epidural and we were arguing about it, which was so not what I wanted to be doing right then (I won't go into details, but I vividly remember every remark she made).  At this point, another nurse came in and said they needed to check my vitals, so they made me get back in bed AGAIN and took my blood pressure, and then this is where it really got fun.  My blood pressure had nosedived at some point--I remember one nurse yelling something about "64 and dropping" and I spent the rest of labor in bed, shaking so hard that the midwife was holding me down so I wouldn't fall off.  They started running fluids and wired me up to a few more monitoring things and  I was still having these horrendous ripping contractions, and everyone kept yelling at me to hold still and not move with the contractions.  The anesthesiologist eventually came in after half an hour or so, and I felt like I was barely conscious at that point.  I couldn't clearly hear what anyone was saying except for Neil, who was consistently advocating on my behalf when the medical team was making decisions without asking us.  Everyone else was a blur.  I couldn't talk either and that was absolutely terrifying.  My midwife checked me as the anesthesiologist got there and I was at a 7.  I knew that the epidural would be pointless at this stage and I tried to say that I didn't want it but I couldn't talk, and I was shaking so hard that I couldn't move my hands or do anything to signal.   And the contractions were just about right on top of each other.

As soon as the epidural was in, Neil asked my midwife to check me again.  She said that I would not have progressed, and Neil told her that she needed to check, because I typically went very fast at this point.  He kept pressing her until she finally agreed, and I was at a 9.  He gave it another 2 contractions and then asked her to check me again.  Again, she refused, and again, he pressed her, and when she finally did, she looked up at Neil sort of blankly and started yelling for the nurses.  My blood pressure dropped again, and so I had a couple of people trying to do something about that and the rest of the nurses were over getting everything ready for the baby.  I was so relieved that it was finally time to push and let the contractions do something that was visibly useful.

And then things got fun again.  Nathan's head came out after two pushes, but then he started rotating and did a full circle.  The midwife couldn't get a grip on his shoulders to deliver him, since he kept moving away (I'll let you imagine how fun that was without any working anesthesia).  As scary as my labor was, this part was even worse.  I could see the midwife's face and I could tell that she was getting increasingly worried.  One of the nurses just started screaming at me to push as hard as I could, which was really stressful.  I sort of blurred out again during this point so I'm not sure what finally happened, but Neil said the delivery was pretty bad.  All I know is that it was much more painful than in the past and I was sure that I was going to need extensive stitching, but fortunately I didn't need any in the end.  I also immediately started apologizing to the midwife for asking for the epidural, and she got sort of frustrated by this and told me that I didn't need to apologize to her, but the way she had acted during the delivery made this the only thing my mind could focus on right then.

I think this is the first baby where I didn't cry from joy when they put him into my arms--Nathan was not crying or moving and I was really scared that something was wrong with him.  His temperature was very low and my blood pressure was still dropping, so we ended up staying in the recovery room for about 3 hours while they worked to stabilize both of us.  Again, I don't remember much of this except that it seemed like they piled every warm blanket possible on us to bring up his temperature and weigh me down enough to control the shaking.  My back and stomach were also hurting a LOT--I didn't sleep much that night--because the labor had been so violent (it was 70 minutes from the time when the crazy contractions started until he was in my arms) and the anesthesiologist had also hit a blood vessel while trying to put in the epidural.  He told me that my back would hurt a lot as a result, and man oh man, he was not kidding.

I've been debating as to whether this was my hardest labor, and I'm not sure.  It was definitely a very difficult delivery after a very difficult pregnancy.  And labor itself was absolutely terrifying.  I felt very out of control and the delivery environment was really intense, loud, and confrontational.  It was very different than I expected it would be with a midwife--the OB that I saw for my previous two deliveries was much more respectful of what I wanted and much more lenient in terms of letting me be monitored while moving around, etc.

This is also the first time where I have cringed away from the thought of doing this all over again.  With all my previous babies, I have had no problem thinking about the next baby even while I'm still in the hospital (case in point: the first night I spent with Isaac in the hospital, I had the most distinct impression I've ever had in my life that there was another baby ready & waiting to join our family).  This pregnancy took such a toll on me that I suppose it's only fitting that the labor did too!

But.  My physical recovery seems to be going well.  I learned a lesson from my recovery with Luke and took things more slowly (I did start running again when he was five days old, but I started much more gently and limited my mileage).  I've been resting a lot more, frankly, because I've needed it much more (thank heavens that my mom is here and fielding everything for me).  It definitely makes me feel older.  I think the hardest thing for me so far is that I've felt very emotional about the state that my body is in.  I usually don't worry much about my body image because running keeps me fit & strong, but right now every time I look in the mirror I just feel so much self-loathing.  My conscious mind tells me that I just had a baby nine days ago, but my emotions tell me a completely different story, and I start crying when I look at my reflection.  I also feel like my emotional state is getting worse--yesterday I woke up and just lay in bed for an hour crying because I didn't want to get up and deal with everything going on outside my bedroom door. Fun stuff.  

A new series: Abigail

 I began writing this blog when Abigail was 18 months old.  Which means, of course, that there are about 2000 pictures of her that exist only on my external hard drive and nowhere on this bloggedy blog that I use as a journal.  It's my goal to remedy that before the new baby is born.

Abigail was born during finals week of my first year of graduate school and at the end of Neil's junior year (he is almost three years older than me, but he was behind me in school because he spent two years serving his mission in the Philippines, and I finished my undergraduate degree in three years and began my master's program right away).  I was twenty-one years old (a few months shy of my twenty-second birthday in July) and he was twenty-four; we had been married just short of 2.5 years.

 At the time, my pregnancy seemed so hard (I was so tired! My sciatic nerve started acting up the final week of my pregnancy!) and now my aching back and I know it was a really awesome pregnancy.  :-)  But I was so excited to be expecting a baby, and I remember lying on the floor at my Grandmother Jere's house after Thanksgiving dinner and feeling that first little fluttering kick for the very first time.

We bought a digital camera just before she was born.  This is one of the very first pictures we took with it--I was nine months pregnant and sitting all folded up working on my thesis.  Note the awesome blanket hung over our window to block out our neighbors' porch lights.  (This blanket stayed on my window pretty much all throughout college. Jen and I used to refer to our freshman dorm room as the "bat cave.")

 Neil took the picture below on my original due date, April 13th (all of the dates on our camera were one day off.  Forever).  I was pregnant for another week and then my OB induced me.  Looking back, I really wish we'd waited longer, but I was so impatient to meet my baby!






The induction was nightmarish.  Absolutely awful.  I was given two doses of cervical gel 12 hours apart.  After the first one, they sent me home and I started having cramps.  When I came back for the second dose at 11 pm, the contractions set in immediately and they were so awful!  The nurses sent me to walk the halls for an hour and I remember that I couldn't walk--I just curled up on the floor crying with each contraction.  Neil was so embarrassed when I parked myself in front of the vending machines and just lay there sobbing.  I remember that he kept trying to persuade me to get up and I was so mad at him!

Eventually the nurses gave me a shot of morphine and sent us home (I really hated them for that).  I spent the night in the living room holding onto the legs of our end table and trying not to scream, because I wanted Neil to sleep.  Finally I felt like the contractions were bad enough that we needed to go to the hospital again.  It took me almost an hour to cover the ten feet to our bedroom (have I convinced you yet that this was awful?!) and when we arrived at the hospital, Neil completely forgot about labor and delivery parking and we ended up in the parking garage which seemed miles away from the L&D wing.

 I don't remember much about being in labor after that.  I know that after twelve hours of hard, intense, horrible labor I asked for an epidural; at that point I'd been awake for about 48 hours and I was completely exhausted.  I think I was on Pitocin and that was making things worse.  (I'd gone to Lamaze classes which were kind of a joke; looking back on this I was totally clueless about how to function when I was in labor and really had no idea what my body was doing.  Honestly, I didn't learn enough about labor and delivery until I did the Hypnobabies program with Luke and spent months researching what actually goes on during the entire birthing process).

Long story short:  I fell into blissful sleep after the epidural and took a much-needed nap.  When Abigail was actually born, my very least favorite doctor from the OB practice was on call, and he came in and draped me in these horrible plastic sheets.  I remember being SO sweaty and hot and miserable and hating that doctor during all 45 minutes of pushing! I was in labor for 24 hours total and ended up with an episiotomy--when I'd specifically told him NO on that--a third-degree tear, and a forceps delivery.  After Abigail was born I started hemorrhaging and I wasn't allowed to hold her for an hour while they worked on me (which was as fun as it sounds).



When I was finally allowed to hold Abigail, I thought she was the most beautiful baby I'd ever seen--that was the very first thing I said (closely followed by "look how long her little feet are!").  I couldn't get enough of her sweet rosebud lips and her tiny little hands and the way she always tried to nibble on her forefinger.  She had a fat little round head, and she was my heaviest baby (thus far) at 8 lbs 9 oz.  She was 20.5 inches long. She had stork bites on both her eyelids and downy brown hair with a little duck tail at the back.  The doctor who delivered her told me that she would be blond; I thought he was totally crazy.

I still think she was just the most beautiful baby.  So beautiful.  She was so sweet-tempered, and I hated putting her to bed at night and I would often (until she was about 3 years old) get her up late at night because I missed her and wanted to play with her.  She was such a good baby--a great sleeper, incredibly adaptable, and always cheerful and good-natured during the year that she spent navigating BYU campus in her stroller while Neil and I frantically traded her off during classes (she was queen of the TA lab and would throw Cheerios at the circuit sets when she was hanging out with Neil during his office hours, and played happily on the floor in my office when I was meeting with students).  But more about her later months in another post.

Luke's birth story

 

As you can probably imagine, this is very long!  Skip to the end if you want to know how Hypnobabies worked for me or my thoughts on running during pregnancy.  And yes, I'm wearing my swimsuit in this picture, and yes, I was kind of (okay a lot) embarrassed later when I realized that I was just hanging out in my swimsuit while the world tromped through my delivery room.

I'm not sure how I want to start this.  I've been very torn the last week over letting the baby come at his pace, and trying to accommodate some scheduling and health issues that have come up.  At my 40-week appointment, my doctor offered to break my water the next day.  I was really upset and unsure the rest of the night, but Neil gave me a blessing and then I spent almost the ENTIRE night up with contractions, horrible nerve pain in my legs, and nonstop baby kicking, which pretty much decided me.  

The doctor broke my water around 8 am. I was 3 cm/70% effaced with the baby at zero station.  With Isaac, this was enough to put me into serious labor right away and he was born by 1 pm.  This time around was not so easy.  I was worried about having him before 5 pm, since she wasn't on call and needed to get home to her own children, and I think this made me tense up.  Neil and I walked the halls of the hospital for four hours with exactly zero changes to my dilation.  About 12:30, after a lot of discussion with the doctor, we started the lowest possible dose of Pitocin to try to get contractions going, with the plan being to turn off the Pit after an hour or so.  Neil fell asleep and I listened to my Hypnobabies while the contractions got steadily more intense until they were about a minute apart, at which point we turned the Pitocin off.  And still no changes to my dilation—discouraging, as you can probably imagine.

I labored for an hour on my own, and I was at a 4.  I know that many women dilate this much before they go into labor, but for me it’s always been a pretty agonizing process to get this far—by 4 cm, my contractions have always been 2 minutes apart, tops, and very intense.  Another hour, and I was at a 6.  Things kind of blur out from here; I know when I hit a 6 I got out of the birthing tub and sat on the birthing ball for awhile, and told the nurse and Neil that I wanted an epidural.  They told me I didn't, and I sat on the birthing ball for awhile longer.

After awhile I started feeling really intense pressure.  My back had also been hurting so much that I was wondering if he was posterior, because the pain was super concentrated in my back and things were going SO slowly.  I was also stressed because it was 4:30 and I knew my doctor had to go home in half an hour.  I asked to be checked again and I was only at a 7 after almost nine hours of labor, and my last two labors were 5 hours and 7 hours.  I felt like if I could just get some relief from the pain I would be able to relax and dilate the last three centimeters, because I was tense enough that despite my best efforts, I was not able to relax into the contractions.  I was also starting to feel the urge to push, and I knew that it was too early, so I was tensing up with each contraction to avoid pushing, which was counter-productive. I told Neil I wanted an epidural, he said I didn't, the nurse said I didn't, and my doctor said I didn't.  I said yes, I sure did.  They checked me again and I was only at 7.5, so everyone said, well, maybe you should get it after all.  Eventually they brought in the anesthesiologist, he started an epidural, and nothing happened!   He tried a whole bunch of different medicines, and one took some of the edge of the pain off in the left side of my back, but I was still having to work really hard to get through each contraction in the same zone.  So intense.  The anesthesiologist finally said he was sorry but there was nothing he could do—sometimes it just didn’t work.  Even though I didn’t get relief from the pain, I think simply thinking that I would was enough to let me relax the needed amount.  I also found it easier at this point to deal with the contractions lying on the bed rather than moving around, which I know goes against most of the natural childbirthing methods, but it’s what worked for me. 

About half an hour into this I felt the urge to push as completely unstoppable, called in a nurse, and the doctor came in and said I was complete.  I wasn't sure if I would be able to push through the contractions, because they were so intense (at this point I whimpered once for the first time).  I should also add that the best part of this was that my doctor had arranged for her daughter to pick up her son so that she could stay until my baby was born—I was SO grateful for that. 

I pushed through one contraction—and it was really difficult.  I decided to wait and push when the contractions stopped, because I had read that this could be an effective way to push without tearing.  So as soon as that contraction stopped, I pretty much gave it all I had with the goal of not having another contraction before the baby was born, and let me tell you—they aren’t joking about that ring of fire thing.  My doctor, Neil, and the nurses were fantastic at this point—they told me how close he was and that he would be out in about three good pushes.  So I pushed through the pain—and it was actually pretty cool to feel everything sort of morphing around him—and voila, baby!  It’s amazing how as soon as the baby’s born, everything just stops—the pain goes away completely.  It’s incredibly rewarding.  He was born after about 3 minutes of pushing and everyone commented on how he looked like a C-section baby because his head was so round and unmolded.  Cute kid.  :-)  

I have to say that I was so exhausted that when they laid him on my chest I couldn’t even lift my arms to put them around him.  The labor was just so intense that I was pretty much drained.  But he was incredibly alert—eyes open, looking around at everything, and acting like he was weeks old rather than a newborn!  They took him away after a few minutes to clean him up and try to get him to cry, and when he came back a few minutes later I was alert enough to hold him without feeling like I would drop him.  He started nursing right away and nursed for about an hour and a half. 

Hypnobabies
Now.  I know a bunch of people were interested in how I thought the Hypnobabies program worked for me.  I was pretty faithful about doing all of the Hypnobabies practice beforehand (I started about 27 weeks), but I have to say that I experienced more relaxation from using it than anything approaching actual hypnosis.  During labor, I listened to the Hypnobabies CDs all the way through up until the last forty-five minutes, at which point it was distracting and I asked Neil to turn it off.  It helped me a LOT while I was on Pitocin, and I got through that hour of close contractions simply by focusing and breathing through each contraction.  As labor progressed, I needed something much more active to engage me, so I found that the birthing tub and birthing ball where I could actively move with both was more helpful, even through I had the Hypnobabies going in the background.  This also sounds weird, but it helped me, so I’ll write it—vocalizing helped a lot from about 5-10 cm.  Concentrating on my breathing wasn’t enough, so I tried to see how long I could just make a low monotonous noise without taking a breath, and usually 2 or 3 of those would get me through the worst part of the contraction. (Between contractions I was kind of embarrassed, because it seemed really weird, but during contractions it felt so natural and was the only thing getting me through.) This worked for me right up until the pushing stage.  I also have to say this with the caveat that mine was not a spontaneous chemical-free labor, so Hypnobabies might work better for someone who goes into labor on their own and has a more gradual experience. 

The main reason I didn’t want an epidural when I was planning beforehand was twofold:  I wanted the baby to be alert and I wanted to be able to walk afterwards  Well, he is DEFINITELY the most alert baby I’ve had yet, and it was awesome to be able to get up on my own and go to the bathroom, change, etc.  I had no tearing, no swelling, and no pain afterwards at all.  Except for the dizziness, I felt like I could go running right away or just pick up with my normal routine (don’t get me wrong, I am loving time to just cuddle my baby and read!)

Running
Speaking of running, this is the other thing that most people have been asking me about after delivery (and by this I mean every single nurse that has entered my room).  I mentioned to my doctor that I’d run 5 miles on Monday to try to kickstart labor, and she told all the nurses this during the last few minutes of delivery, and apparently word spread—a number of the nurses have asked me for tips on running through pregnancy, which I thought was kind of funny because I am definitely no expert.  But I have to say that I think running has helped a LOT with the strength reserves and muscle tone I needed to get through that delivery.  I also noticed that despite weighing the exact same as I’ve weighed just before every baby is born (no matter how much I weigh in the beginning and what I eat and what I do I always end up at the same number!!), my post-partum body is much trimmer than it has been in the past. 
So if you’re thinking about running through your next pregnancy, I would say go for it.  At times it was hard to make myself run yet again, but it kept all the swelling down in my ankles (which was a huge problem for me last time), kept the endorphin levels high, and seems to have been a big factor in how well my body did after a pretty grueling delivery.  I also felt much better during early pregnancy than I usually do--it helped with the nausea and fatigue (although I don't have really bad morning sickness, so take this with a grain of salt).  As far as adjusting my running during pregnancy, I kept running the same distance right up to the end--I found that speed was a much bigger factor than distance.  So I just gradually slowed it down from an 8:30 mile when I was 6 weeks pregnant to a 10:54 mile at full term.  I did run at 9:13/mile when I was 39 weeks and really felt it the next day, so I would advise dropping speed before distance.  I used a support band for my stomach and that helped a lot.  I also did most of my runs in the 2nd and 3rd trimesters on my treadmill, which helped me to avoid stumbling on uneven sidewalks and ensured I was always close to my waterbottle.  

the details

We went in for our scheduled induction as planned early Tuesday morning. The doctor came in about forty-five minutes after we got there, and broke my water (at this point, I was at 3 cm). The nurses monitored me for about half an hour, and then gave us permission to go walk around. The really exciting part of this? The hallway that we got to walk was 100 yards long. Fortunately, the nice part about having a baby is hanging out with my best friend all morning, so Neil and I managed to occupy ourselves quite well in an hour of strolling the same 100 yards over and over again, with exciting games like "pick a truck on the freeway and see if it passes this tree by the time we come back" (traffic was really slow). It sounds pretty lame, but it was quite entertaining, actually, and nice to have some fun time together before things got super exciting.

After an hour of walking, they monitored me again for another hour. I was having fairly regular contractions every ten minutes or so, but they weren't too painful yet. Neil fell asleep and I ate my exciting clear liquids breakfast. The contractions started picking up; the nurse released me to go walk some more, and I realized that the contractions were really starting to hurt. So we walked very very slowly for another twenty-five minutes, and I didn't say much to Neil because I was very occupied in my inner debate of "do I want an epidural, or not?" I decided I'd make that decision based on how much I'd progressed by 10:30.

When I reached my self-appointed 10:30 deadline, I asked the nurse to check me and I was just over a 4. At this point, I was exhausted enough (I was of course too apprehensive to sleep much the night before) and in enough pain that I decided to go ahead with the epidural. So they brought in the anesthesiologist, started everything up, and I was very grateful that we'd gotten the process underway because the contractions suddenly picked up and were basically unbearable--every two minutes and about a minute long. They checked me again one more time just to make sure that I wasn't suddenly progressing a lot, and I was still a 4, so I decided to definitely go with the epidural, since it looked like labor was moving fairly slowly and delivery was hours away.

I was shaking so much that the anesthesiologist couldn't really get the needle in, so she had Neil hold my shoulders. Which meant that Neil locked his knees because he was so focused on holding me still, which meant that I looked up at his face and saw that his skin was white, his lips were blue, and he was sweating. In all the excitement that then followed with Neil nearly passing out, I forgot about how miserable I was and the anesthesiologist managed to get the epidural needle in. Poor Neil!

The epidural didn't work. So they repositioned it and tried again. This time it numbed my right side, but not my back or left side. Fortunately, the numbing was enough so that I could focus on doing my Lamaze breathing through every contraction, and maintain some feeling of control over the process that way. I was also still really tired, so I fell asleep in between each contraction (lots of little ninety-second naps. Let me tell you, THAT is fatigue). As a last-ditch effort before completely removing the epidural, they put in a different kind of medication, and lo and behold, it worked! I had three contractions where I felt absolutely nothing, and it was bliss. Then my doctor came in, and decided to check me again.

And I was fully dilated. Forty-five minutes after the second check where I was at a 4, when they started the epidural process. Three contractions after the medication kicked in.

So everyone ran around like CRAZY (while I kept saying, "Are you sure? Wow. That was fast. I was hoping I could take a nap,") and the room filled up with the surgical team, and four contractions later, Isaac was born. It was a really easy delivery, and I didn't need any stitches afterwards, for which I am incredibly thankful, since it was so fast. I got to hold him right away and then we nursed and cuddled together once he'd been tidied up a bit.

I was very grateful that we had gone ahead with the induction, since we would not have made it to the hospital otherwise. And I was also grateful that I'd decided to have the epidural, since I was so exhausted and tense that my muscles were locking and I think the epidural really helped to speed the process rather than slowing it down. And I was extremely grateful for the anesthesiologist that kept on trying until I was comfortable, rather than just walking out like the one who attended me for Juliet's birth. Overall, I was really pleased with the whole experience--I didn't need any Pitocin or other interventions, and I felt like I was still controlling a lot of the pain and getting myself through the majority of the contractions as the epidural was slowly starting up. I was so impressed with the hospital and with all the staff--I think I wrote some of the most effusive thank-you notes I've ever penned!

Recovery has been going well--I don't know whether it was the comparatively quick labor (not totally worn out), the lack of tearing (hurray! no trauma!), or just the relief in having this pregnancy over and feeling so much more comfortable, but things have been great. Isaac is the dearest little boy imaginable. I opted to stay in the hospital for the full two days mostly just to have the "alone time" with him, and it was so wonderful to just have that bonding time with him. With both of the girls, I was so exhausted and in so much pain after their deliveries that the hospital was a blur of sleeplessness and medication, but I was really able to relish the last couple of days with Isaac and just spend all day cuddling with him and talking to him. It's been lovely. Hopefully it continues to be so here at home!

Isaac

Isaac David was born at 1:00pm on Tuesday, July 14, 2009 weighing 8 lbs. 6 oz. and 22 in. long. He is a beautiful baby. He and Rachael are doing very well.

update

Hmm...I don't even know where to start. I will just make this post about the actual delivery, so you can skip it if you want to, although I will skip out on the ooky details.

After our lovely morning of worry and stress about whether we'd be able to get in for my induction on Tuesday, we called back at 9 am and were told to come in as soon as we wanted to. So we hustled Abigail through breakfast, took her over to Andrea's, and drove to the hospital. They started my induction about ten minutes after ten. Neil and I spent about forty-five minutes walking up and down the halls until I could definitely feel some contractions, and then we went back to my room so that they could monitor me and determine that the induction was indeed "working." The rest of the morning was pretty slow--we walked around some more, I ate my exciting "clear liquid" lunch of bouillion, jell-o, and juice (although I must say it was exciting to be able to eat something other than ice chips, which was all I was given during Abigail's delivery). I read for awhile and Neil did some studying.

After determining that the hospital cafeteria only took cash, Neil left for about an hour to go to Target and buy salami, hard rolls, string cheese, grapes, and dried fruit (what he calls the "Decker Vacation Special," since my family always opts for salami-and-cheese sandwiches when on the road, and I've gotten Neil addicted as well). When he got back, he snuck me some real food, which I greatly appreciated.

At about 2 pm, the doctor came in to see how I was doing. I was at 2 cm when I came into the hospital and I'd gone up to 3 cm in the four hours since I'd been induced. While he was checking my progress, my water broke and the contractions suddenly became very businesslike to the point where they were about a minute apart and pretty nasty (you're supposed to go to the hospital when they're five minutes apart and a minute long, so you can imagine the general unpleasantness of these). Suddenly our quiet little oasis became a beehive of frantic activity--more monitors appeared, a nurse came in to give me the worst stick for an IV I've ever had (literally--blood was FOUNTAINING all over the place and they were using bathtowels to mop it up. Bathtowels. For an IV. I could tell how bad it was by how tight Neil's lips were--he was pretty angry. And the worst part was that the nurse was obviously flustered and kept saying "Oh wow...that's a good vein" and nervously moving her hands and accidentally catching the end of the unsecured tube, thus wrenching it around and causing more blood to gush out. It was quite painful).

After about fifteen minutes, the contractions were so bad that I wimped out and asked for some kind of pain relief. The anesthesiologist was busy, so they gave me a shot of something in my IV that was pretty interesting--I don't know much other than the fact that I could feel my eyes rolling up in my head and I was curious about whether I could see the inside of my eyelids. Everything was very fuzzy and Neil sounded like he was very far away (and pretty distressed when I just sort of laughed whenever he asked me a question and then answered the question five minutes later).

The anesthesiologist came in about 3:00 to do the epidural. Unlike my epidural with Abigail, it was a very long and painful process. It took about half an hour, and I was having contractions the whole time that were making my entire body shake, so it was pretty hard to hold still. At this point I was at 6 cm; if this fact had actually penetrated my pain-fogged brain I'm not sure I would have had the epidural, but I was firmly convinced that once I had it the pain would immediately leave (as it did with Abigail) and I would be able to nap for three hours (as I did with Abigail).

Unfortunately, all that happened was that my legs went numb--I could still feel each contraction. The anesthesiologist upped the dosage: nothing. The nurses happily reassured me that this was good; it meant the baby was coming soon and fast. I retorted that I did not want to have the baby yet, since I wanted to take a nap; they smilingly said "Of course you want the baby now!" and I decided I did not like those nurses. I wanted to send them all out of the room, especially the one who kept patting my arm and saying brightly "You're doing great, honey! Just great, sweetie!" For some reason it's always irritated me when people I don't know call me pet names; usually it doesn't bother me too much, but at that point I wasn't feeling particularly charitable. Especially when in the 30-second interval between each contraction she would say happily "Oh! That was a great one! Good job! Wow, this baby is sure coming fast!"

Fortunately, Neil was amazing. Absolutely amazing. My heart welled up with love for him every minute or so when he had finished talking me through each contraction, counting down the seconds steadily and audibly, encouraging me to squeeze his hand, and telling me when the contraction had peaked and was on its way down (thank goodness for those monitors). He stood there the whole time holding my hand and stroking my forehead and I loved him more in those minutes than I have ever loved anyone in my entire life.

After awhile, the nurses got bored and left, much to my relief. I'm not sure if Neil sent them out or if they left on their own; I do remember him asking angrily at one point "Is there anything you can do for her? Anything at all? She's really hurting and the epidural isn't giving her any relief!" and the nurse responding happily "Nope, she's progressing too fast for the epidural to catch up! Nothing we can do!"

An hour after the anesthesiologist left, I couldn't take it anymore. Whenever I opened my eyes I could see how worried Neil looked, which made me start to worry, plus I was physically starting to run out of energy from fighting through contractions that were several minutes long and coming every thirty seconds. Hard to recoup when you're still twitching as the next one starts. I was also (contrarily) irritated that nobody had been by to check on me for an hour during which I had been having ripping contractions and that nobody seemed to care that the epidural wasn't working and that the anesthesiologist hadn't been by to check on me as promised, nor the doctor and my original nurse had disappeared, so I buzzed the little nurse thing and yelled "Get a doctor or a nurse in here NOW!" which worked wonderfully well and someone came running right away. At first I was told that my nurse was in a C-section and couldn't be spared, etc. etc., but reveling in the new found efficacy of my rage, I kept yelling "Get a nurse here!" and finally one appeared and decided to check my progress, and lo and behold...I was 10 cm and the baby was just about to make an appearance. I shudder to think what would have happened if I hadn't finally lost my cool and abandoned all attempts at patience. Neil would have had a whole new doctoral experience, I suppose.

As it was, the doctor took quite awhile to get there, during which point I kept yelling "Where is the doctor?!" partially just for the fun of it and because it was so nice to say something and see everyone run around frantically repeating the same thing after I said it. It made me feel a little like the Chief Lemming. But after another twenty minutes (!!) the doctor showed up and I was finally allowed to have the baby. She was born about five minutes after the doctor got there at 4:42 pm, six hours and thirty-two minutes from the time the induction started. If you're keeping track, it took me 36 weeks to get to 1 cm, 3 weeks to get to 2 cm, 4 hours to get to 3 cm, and 2 hours for the last 7 cm. Pretty lickety-split. Oh, and the epidural kicked in during the last fifteen minutes, so at least I didn't feel the actual birth part and the stitches afterwards, for which I am deeply grateful.

All things considered, however, I must confess that it was a much easier labor than Abigail's, of which I spent twelve hours in labor at home (including the four darkest hours of my life when I was curled up on the floor under the end table crying from pain and completely unable to wake Neil up to take me to the hospital--it took me about an hour to get from the living room to our bedroom) and another twelve in labor at the hospital. It was also a much less physically damaging ordeal, and I was able to actually get out of bed fairly competently under my own power as soon as the epidural wore off, a feat which took me about a week to do with Abigail. I cannot even describe to you the depth of my rejoicing for that blessing.

As I was cradling Juliet in my arms at about 2 am that morning, I had a feeling of overwhelming peace and a sudden confidence and surety about being a mother of two--I had the feeling that not only could I really do this, but more importantly, that I wanted to do this. I was so excited and happy to be a full-time mommy to these two little girls, and I was so grateful that I had a husband who supported me in that rather than expressing frustration at the fact that he worked twelve-hour days while I kicked back (so to speak) at home. I can't really capture how special that moment was for me, but it was, and I'll just leave it at that.