how Baby Mia came into the world

 

Two weeks ago today, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl and our world changed instantly, but not in the way you would expect a new baby to change your world. Our journey took a little detour. While I doubted the outcome in the beginning, I can now confidently say, we are on our way back to the place I thought we were headed early Sunday morning on July 31st. I have been so focused on Mia's battle to live that the memories of that Sunday morning are already fading into the background. It is sometimes difficult to remember how excited and happy I felt that morning, even through the pains of labor. So, before they escape my memory forever, I would like to write it all down.

This is the story of how our precious Mia came into the world.

Technically, labor didn't start until early Sunday morning, but if I want to start at the real beginning of the story, I should probably backtrack to Tuesday when I had my 36 week OB appointment. I was dilated 1-2 CM/40% effaced...exactly where I had been at 36 weeks with Laci. I knew little Mia would be early, but was expecting to wait at least another two weeks. That evening, I had some contractions, slightly stronger than the Braxton-Hicks contractions I'd been having since about 20 weeks, but thought nothing of it. I'd been having contractions so often and for so long that I was used to just tuning them out.

It should be know that I have a history of denying the fact that I'm in labor until...well...until I can deny it no longer. Just imagine a puffing, sweating prego lady who can't speak through her contractions, saying, "Yeah, I think it might be real labor." I'm a little stubborn like that.

Fast forward to early Friday morning. After spending most of Thursday night being uncomfortable in bed (which I'm sure any 9 month pregnant lady can relate to), I started having contractions again at about 3:30 am. These were definitely stronger than the usual contractions, and there were even a few I had to think about. I lay in bed for the next two hours, wondering why my body was keeping me awake like this when clearly I had two more weeks to incubate my little bundle. Ryan has been working second shift and doesn't get to bed much before midnight, so I wasn't in a hurry to wake him so early in the morning. Around 5:30 am, the contractions subsided, I dozed off for a little bit, then started my day bright and early as usual. I went to work for a few hours and, just to be on the safe side, made sure I was more than caught up with my workload, including all the end of the month things I usually take care of after the first. Looking back now, I think it is safe to say that my body knows more than my mind and can (and did) take over when necessary. Thank goodness my body is smarter than my brain sometimes.

Saturday was uneventful, but I felt restless. I sewed a dress for Laci during her nap. Ummmm, how did I not see this as a sign? My form of "nesting" when I was pregnant with Laci was to go on a spending spree 24 hours before she was born. I went online and purchased every baby item I had been procrastinating about for nine months, most of which arrived after we got home from the hospital. Apparently with Mia, my "nesting" manifested itself in a giant sewing spree.

Ryan got off work early on Saturday night - a gift of free time from the lack of fresh fruit this season. We looked at appliances online, discussed our soon-to-be-built kitchen, and went to bed as usual. I think I even slept pretty well.

Sunday morning, Laci woke up at 4:00 am. I brought her to our bed for some snuggle time. We both certainly needed more rest, but I couldn't get comfortable with her next to me. She asked for "Mulk" (milk), which I gladly gave her, and then she asked for a "Show" on TV. I didn't even know she could say "Show", but it didn't matter because I refused to turn on the TV at four in the morning. She was clearly upset with me, but I got her back to sleep fairly quickly. I, on the other hand, couldn't get to sleep at all.

I got up around 4:30 am to use the bathroom and had a contraction. A real contraction...the kind where you just focus on having a contraction and, in between deep breaths, think, "Oh yeah, I forgot how bad contractions hurt." Then I had another contraction, then another, then another. Serious contractions, although at the time, I was still slightly denying it. For some reason, I was concerned with waking everyone up with false alarms. After half an hour in the bathroom, I attempted to go back to bed, but that was soooooo not happening.

Still in the bathroom, I heard a thump over the baby monitor in the shop. Laci, in her sleepy daze, fell off the bed. Ryan had no idea I wasn't in bed, so he rescued our daughter from the floor and came to find me. "Are you OK?" he asked through the bathroom door. "I'm fine," I say. Of course, I'm fine...I'm not supposed to have a baby yet. Shortly after five, I make it back to the trailer where Laci is happily sipping her milk and watching a show. Ryan sees the look on my face, despite my best efforts to look completely calm and collected, and he gets into action. He asks me again, "Are you OK?" and I say, "Yes...well...maybe...I don't know." Good thing he knows my stubbornness.

I sat with Laci for a few more contractions, which was fine until she got too clingy. To set the scene completely at this point, there I am, sitting on the bed, consoling a crying baby in between pretty intense contractions, still trying to convince my brain that yes, we probably need to go to the hospital.

Around 5:30, Ryan says to me in his best take charge voice, "We are going to the hospital, I'm going to go call your mom." I replied, "OK" because obviously I was out of my mind and having a baby on the side of the highway wasn't really something either one of us wanted to experience.

I was incapable of doing much besides breathe and pretend I was in control of the situation. I wasn't prepared to go to the hospital, no bags were packed, and I decided no bags were going to be packed. In fact, packing a bag was completely out of the question, and I figured I would just send Ryan home to get whatever we needed after the baby was born. Right around 6:00 am, we pulled out of the driveway with my mom and Laci behind us. She would be dropping Laci off with my sisters and would meet us at the hospital as soon as possible.

The contractions continued all the way to hospital, and I was thankful when we made it past our rough, bumpy roads, and were cruising down the much smoother highway. I was also thankful for the lack of traffic and lack of highway patrol that allowed Ryan to drive a very "safe" 90 mph. I remember saying, "I forgot how bad contractions hurt" several times during our trip, but I also remember being able to still hold a conversation between contractions, even joking about how long I liked to wait before leaving for the hospital. I remember chit-chatting about how I never expected to have a July baby, how she probably just wanted her own birthday month, and how excited I was to meet our daughter a little early.

We arrived at the hospital in record time. My stubborn self insisted on walking into the hospital, but my wise husband rounded up a wheelchair for me, ensuring that we would actually make it to the delivery room in time. We arrived at the nurses' station in Labor & Delivery somewhere around 6:45 am. The kind nurse at the desk asked me, "Can you walk to the bathroom?" I smiled and said something like, "Sure, as soon as this contraction is over." Except once that one ended, another began. I remember signing a couple of forms, conveniently highlighted in bright yellow so that I didn't really have to read anything. Another nurse then wheeled me straight to the delivery room, no need for bathroom interviews or triage this time around.

Poor Ryan thought I was being taken to the bathroom, so he hung in the hall for a few minutes before someone kindly alerted him that I was in a room and probably going to be giving birth very shortly. I quickly changed into a fashionable hospital gown, got a couple of monitors hooked around my belly and the nurse performed the official (uncomfortable) check of my cervix. Yep, dilated 8-9 cm. Guess those contractions are real after all. The first recorded contraction on my monitor was at 6:55 am. My mom and sister, Beth, arrived just a few minutes after that...we were ready to have a baby.

Months ago I had already decided that I would have as natural a birth as I could handle. I had given birth to Laci with only a single dose of Nubain that wore off well before the time came for pushing, so I knew I had it in me to do it on my own. With things progressing so much more quickly this time around, I knew that even if I didn't want to do it naturally, I certainly didn't have a choice anymore.

My OB doctor, who just so happened to be on call (Hooray!!!), was doing his morning rounds and then hung out in our room for the few minutes he predicted it would take to have a baby. He broke my water and said, "Well, when you're ready to push, let us know." I remember trying to gain control over the pain of the contractions. Once I remembered how to breathe, I actually felt a little bit in control of the situation, though my vocalizations may have sounded otherwise. I remember thinking how different this was than Laci's birth. I remember thinking, "Wow, when I'm ready to push? Guess I'm really in charge of this thing after all." A few more contractions later, I started pushing. It was about 7:20 am. The pushing seemed harder than last time, I was getting frustrated because it felt like I couldn't get her out fast enough. It felt like I was pushing forever. In reality, it was only 10 minutes.

At 7:30 am, beautiful little Mia was born, and placed immediately on my chest. Seeing that little person for the first time is just as amazing when it's your second baby as when it is your first. I can imagine that no matter how many babies you have, that feeling is always the same. It is unbeatable by any other experience on earth. She was messy and tiny and beautiful, and as you already know, not breathing very well. She couldn't catch her breath to make that first crying sound every parent wants and needs to hear. It was just a couple of minutes before the nurse took her from me, but in that time, I fell in love with her, and she peed on me. Yes, peed right down the side of me. Bless her little heart, she's had healthy kidneys from the beginning.

This is the point in the story where the beauty fades and is replaced by fear, sorrow, confusion, none of the feelings you expect to experience at the birth of your child. Now, two weeks later, I can honestly say the excitement and happiness are back. I am so anxious to get our little girl home and be a family again, to get to know our baby in a way we haven't been able to experience while here at the hospital. Now that we have survived two weeks of this madness, it is much easier to see the big picture...that years from now, this whole experience will feel so very short in the grand scheme of things. And that July 31st, despite its twists and turns, it still one of the best days of my life.

~ two weeks old today...almost completely tube-free ~