In a few short weeks, our home will no longer, and never again, have a baby. This fact makes me want to look back on the years I have had as a parent. It is hard not to think of how my boys came into the world.
I absolutely love hearing other mom’s birth stories, so I thought I would finally share both of mine, kicking off the Mid-Michigan Moms Birth Story Series.
I have been blessed with two beautiful, healthy boys. Their stories started similar but different. Looking back at their labors makes me laugh because knowing my boys’ personalities now totally matches how they came into the world. Here, I share the story of how my firstborn came into the world.
Our first son was born in 2017. I had been experiencing Prodromal Labor for weeks. He was our first baby, and like most first-time moms, I was paranoid about everything. I took all of the birthing classes, nursing classes and even forced my husband to do a daddy day camp. I thought I was prepared, and I mostly was. {I have watched plenty of calves being born, they made it look so easy, sure, I could do that too.}
On Tuesday morning, I had been having contractions for months, but the contractions increased in intensity and frequency. I attempted to suffer through a work meeting, but I decided to go home after some convincing from a coworker. Lunchtime came around, and I decided to call my OBGYN. My contractions were two-and-a-half minutes apart at this point. I was talking through them, but I was already five days overdue, so I was told to head in. I think they thought I was overreacting, but I can’t blame them. It most definitely was in my head, and I probably sounded a little crazy on the phone. I tend to play things off, so I can see how they got mixed messages. But, I live a solid 45 minutes from the hospital, so my motto was “better safe than sorry.”
So, I called my husband and told him we got the green light to head in. About an hour and a half later, we made it to the hospital. In hindsight, we should have stopped for lunch, but what first time parent thinks of that?! We went up to the L&D floor, got settled into our room, and I was gowned up. I was dilated to a 4 {oughly the size of a chocolate chip cookie, something I will never forget}. At this point, we were told we wouldn’t be leaving without delivering this baby. We were pumped! As a typical millennial, we took the fun selfies and Snapchats, and sent them to our friends and families. It was fun and exciting.
The nurses came in to get me prepped, I was strep B positive with both kids, so I had to get IV antibiotics. Once the IV was in, it became a waiting game. We joked around for a few hours. We laughed and were super excited to be having a baby. Four o’clock rolled around, and I had progressed enough for my water to be broken. It’s the weirdest feeling ever. Also, that thing looks like a crochet hook. Cant look at those the same either.
That’s when it got real.
My contractions become more intense as I progressed. Memories are weird, sometimes I look back, and some of the details are hazy, but others are not. For example, I will never forget watching my husband sit on the couch eating pringles as I paced the room. I swear I could have strangled him. Seriously, I was starving {back to the hindsight of stopping for lunch.}
Labor was relatively smooth. I am the type of person that internalizes pain. I don’t think I said more than two sentences the whole time. We had a slight snag when we realized that the baby was sunny-side up. He was in position with some pushing, strong contractions, and concentrated power of will {on the nurses’ end}. Holy, I was not prepared for how that felt. Once he was flipped, it was immediate.
I had the urge to push. I always thought it was weird that “when you know, you know,” but it’s true. I knew when I had to push. He was ready to see the world.
Unfortunately, my body wasn’t fully ready for him. After a few pushes, we knew I wouldn’t accommodate him. I was given the option of an episiotomy. I distinctly remember telling my doctor “whatever you have to do to get him out.”
The episiotomy wasn’t really in my birth plan. But hey, girl, you gotta do what you gotta do. After two more pushes, our baby entered the world.
He was beautiful, quiet, and content. As he laid on my chest, and I was getting ready to deliver the placenta, my husband looking over us, I will never forget my OB telling me she would be pulling the cord on the next push. My husband freaked out. Legit full-on freakout, he is a dairy farmer, and in dairy cattle, you can’t pull on the placenta. It would cause blood loss and most likely a terrible outcome for the cow. So, I suppose he had a reason to, and it was the only thing he knew. After it was delivered, my OB and husband got into a long discussion about the differences between cattle and women. I swear I thought I would have been done being compared to a cow, but I guess not {that didn’t happen until after I was done breastfeeding the first, and then it returned for my second pregnancy. Just an FYI!}.
A fun little anecdote: The next day, my OB came in to check on me. She immediately started asking about cow births. Like, really. I’m great, by the way. Thanks for asking.
Each birth story is special, and I can’t wait to hear more as we share this series.
Beautifully written when do we get part 2?