I really did try and edit this down, but I just can't seem to say it all succinctly. So, feel free to read, but know that there's probably way more than you ever wanted to know about Leah's birth...
On Saturday night my doctor called me with some blood work results and to check on how I was feeling. I told her I was in better spirits than the day before, but she still tried to talk me into at least scheduling an induction. She told me I could always cancel it, but that at least it would be on the schedule. I gave her my permission, but told her I'd need to talk to my husband about it (and I really wanted to pray about the decision). I know inductions are common practice, and often nothing to worry about, but I also didn't want to get one just because I was "tired of being pregnant". My doctor thought my being dilated to 3 1/2 with a very ripe cervix would mean that all I needed was a "kick start" and then I could still proceed with things naturally. It was tempting, but I still had apprehensions. And, at the back of my mind I kept thinking, "But, what if I go into labor before then?"
On Sunday I went to church, cranky, modeling my newly acquired cankles, wearing flip-flops since I couldn't fit into any heels, and dealing with everyone's obnoxious comments, "You're still here!?" "When's that baby coming out?" That night we called Kevin's mom and asked her to come out on Monday night so that she'd either be there for the induction or to just help keep us busy until the baby arrived--depending on what we decided. I had another appointment scheduled for Monday morning, at which point we'd see how I was doing, and make a final decision on the induction. Monday actually became a busy day for me, a Dr.'s appointment, a lunch date, I was going to go buy a breast pump, and pick up my mother-in-law from the airport--it was kind of nice to have lots of plans to keep my mind off things. But, this baby had some plans of her own!
On Sunday night I began feeling kind of feverish and nauseous, and I began experiencing some slight contractions--but nothing regular or too painful, and since I'd been contracting on and off for weeks, it was nothing to get my hopes up over.
That night we busied ourselves around the house. A bit more tidying up, packing some of our last things, and getting the house in order. All the while I was contracting, but I still wasn't convinced it was the real deal. I had Kevin--achem--bookend the pregnancy (if you don't catch my drift, I'll tell you when you're older), since that's supposed to help things move along, and then went to bed hoping that night might be "The Night." I began waking up about every hour to a contraction. I'd get up to use the bathroom and then fall back asleep until the next contraction. It was strange because the pains became a part of my dream, and I remember describing to someone in the dream that these were what the contractions felt like last time. So my subconscious new I was in labor before I did! Around 3 in the morning the contractions were about 7 minutes apart and I was too distracted timing them to sleep anymore. I was also finally convinced that I was in labor. So I got up, and for some reason had one last spurt of nesting. I did the dishes, scrubbed out my kitchen sink, sanitized all my counters, sent off a few e-mails canceling some plans I'd made, shaved my legs, and cleaned the tub, did my hair and make-up…it was all sort of surreal. Around 4 a.m. Kevin woke up and asked if I was okay. I told him I was in labor but to go back to bed. I think he tried to sleep for about a half hour longer, but finally awoke because he was too excited to sleep anymore. He asked me how far apart the contractions were and I sheepishly told him, "About three minutes." I think that response caught him off guard. “When were you going to wake me up!?” I just figured I’d try and get as much done as I could before waking him up.
He hopped into the shower, and then called his mom around 4:45, who was miraculously able to make the first flight out. Then I called the on-call doctor, gave him a run down, “I’m 3 days past my due date, expecting my second child, experiencing contractions about 3-5 minutes apart, and positive for Group B Strep.” He told me it was time to go to the hospital! I still kind of took my time getting out the door. I called my parents around 5:15 who came over shortly thereafter. (As Kevin ran around the house, far more frantic than I was, he grabbed the video camera and kept walking outside because he wanted to tape my parents arriving. When I laughed at him, all he could do was smile and tell me how excited he was. It was so cute.) I had a bowl of cereal—pausing here and there to breathe through a contraction; the contractions were all still very manageable at this point. I think the way I was handling them gave me the last boost of confidence I needed to prove to myself that I really could have this baby naturally. I also hopped into bed with Claire for some snuggles—I didn’t wake her or anything, but I just needed to hug her one last time with her being my only baby. My parents arrived and I got a blessing from my dad and Kevin. Then my dad stayed behind with Claire, Kevin and I hit the road, and my mom followed in a car behind us.
On the way there I continued to contract although they were more like 4-6 minutes apart. Kevin drove like a mad man, and I accused him of wanting to get pulled over so that he’d finally have an excuse for his speeding. He almost missed our exit and had to cut across 4 lanes of traffic, and blew one stop sign on the way. When we did arrive he assured me knew where he was going and so we walked into the wrong part of the hospital and had to be escorted to the proper wing…we had a shaky start, but at 6:15 we were calmly and excitedly checking in to the hospital.
After four disastrous attempts at getting an IV in me, they finally got me hooked up and I began to receive the first dose of antibiotics (because of the Group B). They wanted me to have at least two doses before delivering, which takes four hours. They called my doctor who said she’d arrive after they’d begun administering the second dose of antibiotics. The plan was to make sure I’d received the needed medications and then she’d come, check me, break my water, and deliver when I was ready. (Didn’t quite work out that way…but I’ll get to that.)
They got me a nurse who was experienced with natural deliveries and who could provide me with individualized care instead of splitting her time with multiple patients. She checked me and I was at about a 5. I was happy to have at least made some progress. They hooked me up to the telemetric heart monitors (the kind you wear but can walk around with), since continuous fetal heart monitoring are required at my hospital. I was given the option of roaming the halls, but I felt more comfortable contracting and moving in my own room. My mom had arrived shortly after us and snuck me a few bites of food. Last time I wasn’t allowed to eat or drink anything, but this time I was determined not to go hungry. I got my music going and began trying a few positions to see which helped me through the contractions. At first it was just holding onto Kevin and doing figure eights. We tried a few others—some were horrible, but the one we finally discovered to be the best was with the birthing ball on the bed, and me kneeling on the bed leaning onto the ball. Not sure if you can picture that or not… As a contraction would come, I’d kind of sway on the ball, completely letting it carry my weight, as Kevin or my mom held a hot pad on my lowed back and applied counter pressure.
I had prepared a stack of post-its with positive affirmations, quotes, tips, scriptures…everything from, to “Relax your jaw.” to “Breathe.” to “Keep praying!” to “Keep peeing!” As contractions came, I could read or recall one of these notes and it helped me stay focused through the contraction. Actually that last one, proved to be one of the most helpful. In between almost very single contraction I would go sit on the toilet, pee, and just relax and release. It was nice because it meant I could really open up, and let loose during a contraction, without worrying about any other body functions. Sounds weird, I know, but it worked great for me. Anyway, I continued to manage the contractions well. I felt very relaxed and in control.
I began to wonder if I was making any more progress, but the nurse said she wouldn’t need to check me again until it was time to give me the second dose of antibiotics. I thought that was kind of a strange way to do things, but my mom consoled me by saying, “It would be disappointing to be doing all this work, only to find out you haven’t progressed much. Maybe it’s for the better.”
Around 9 a.m. Kevin went to the bathroom and I had a contraction with just my mom that left me in tears. “This one’s different,” I cried. A very brief time later I had another one just as painful, and very low in my back. “The contractions are getting ahead of me.” I cried again. I just wasn’t staying on top of them the way I had before, and they were leaving me breathless, and unable to relax. I began to worry that I wasn’t cut out for the natural thing after all. It had only been a short time since I’d been dilated to 5 cm, and I thought I had hours to go, so I began to question my ability to really do this. The nurse ran in and tried to help me through another bad contraction, and then decided to check me after all. “You’re an 8-9,” she reported, clearly surprised. So was I for that matter! She ran to call my doctor, ran back in and began preparing the room for the birth. At 9:16 another nurse ran in and tried to quietly tell my nurse, “The doctor’s not going to make it in time.” “What does that mean?” I asked! She stayed very calm and said, “It means the on-call doctor’s going to deliver this baby, and that you can have the baby whenever you feel the need to push.” Only, I already felt the need to push. So they ended up grabbing a resident from the hallway, her coat still on and everything, and she ran in.
The pain and pressure got pretty intense at that point. It was more than I felt like I could handle, but I had been counting on that moment where I thought I couldn’t do it anymore, but it was too late to turn back, and the only way to get through this was to get that baby out. So it happened just as I expected! Next, came a bit of animalistic screaming (or so says Kevin), and me yelling, “Ow!” and “I can’t!” Apparently I also prayed out loud for help, covered my mouth when I was about to let a naughty word escape, yelled at the two nurses for telling me to do contradictory things, and yelled at the nurse when she told me to hold my own legs…all that seems like a lot, but it actually happened very quickly and after about three pushes came the babies head, and then came the best feeling in the world, the rest of the baby’s body slipping out.
At 9:24 a.m. Leah Grace Osborn entered the world and joined our little family! The doctor arrived about 15 minutes later, my mother-in-law arrived about a half hour later, Claire arrived shortly after that so she could meet her new sister, and then I was taken to my room. As I was wheeled to my room, carrying my sweet new baby, I couldn’t believe she was finally here and that things had all happened so quickly. (Not having had time to get the second round of antibiotics meant that we had to stay the full 2 days in the hospital and that Leah needed some blood work and slight monitoring...wasn't too big of a deal.)
I can hardly describe how much faster the recovery has been having had a drug free, epidural free, episiotomy free, tear free, forceps free delivery. The delivery was so quick, the recovery was so quick, nursing happened so naturally afterwards, and sweet Leah was wide awake and alert for most of the day. I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. I will without question have all of the rest of my children naturally, and I assure you, if I can do it, you can do it! My pain tolerance is nothing to brag about—just ask the people who’ve had to deal with me as I spent the week engorged as my milk came in. I might even continue to encourage people to get the epidural the first time, but there is just nothing like birthing naturally--it was incredible.
You may have questions...I may have left parts out...but that about sums up everything. Shoot me an e-mail or comment if you want me to talk about other things. Next post will be life after Leah's arrival, how Claire's adjusting, and how mom's surviving two kiddos. Stay tuned...I'm off to nap...
But don't let his cute, furry, Ewok exterior deceive you. 
