Where to begin? Especially since I'm finishing this three weeks after I intended to have it finished...
Since Michael came a (ridiculously long) week and a half
after his due date, I told myself from the very beginning of this pregnancy that I wouldn't expect Liam to come before--or even on--his due date of November 10th. Naturally that resolution didn't last past week 36 or so. I was having such strong Braxton-Hicks contractions pretty much every day that I felt like labor
must be just around the corner. All through week 37 and 38 and I would start having regular, fairly strong contractions when I was walking around, but they always stopped when I stopped. So. Annoying.
Around 1am on the morning of November 3rd I woke up to a contraction. It was just barely strong enough to wake me up, not particularly uncomfortable, but it was wildly exciting because thus far I hadn't been having contractions when I was resting. I tried not to get my hopes up, but the contractions continued almost regularly for the rest of the night, and when Alex woke up I told him I thought there was a good possibility we would be meeting Liam that day or the next. Thankfully it was a Saturday and we didn't have to evaluate whether or not Alex should go to work.
Despite the auspicious beginning to the day, my contractions didn't stay regular. We decided to take a trip to Ikea in the hopes that walking around the blue and yellow monstrosity would get labor going (and keep it going). As usual, I started having strong, regular contractions while we were walking around--and, as usual, they subsided when I stopped walking. After Michael's nap we all went outside so I could do laps around the yard. The contractions started up again as expected, and they did seem to be getting stronger. By this time I was absolutely fed up with wondering whether or not I was going into labor for real.
For a pick-me-up we decided to do Chipotle for dinner, and Alex and Michael left to go pick it up. Much to Alex's dismay, just as he was loading M into his car seat he realized that M was in desperate need of a new diaper, as well as a new pair of pants. I was in the bathroom when Alex came in to wash his hands, and just as he was about to leave again my water broke. We've never been so thankful for a diaper blow-out (and probably never will be again).
Since we're still living with Alex's parents, Michael was originally going to just stay home with Papa and Cici when we went to the hospital. However, they just happened to be out of town that night. So we called up Josh and Kari to see if we could drop M off at their house for the night. They were happy to oblige, and I was thrilled because M
loves going to Abby's house. I also called our healthcare appointment/advice line before we left, because we needed to make sure the nearer hospital had room for us before showing up there. After trying to convince the nurse on the line that my water had actually broken (they must get a lot of false alarms--she didn't seem willing to just take my word for it) she instructed us to head to the hospital which was, thankfully, not full (the alternative was to go downtown to the hospital where we had M; we loved delivering at that hospital, but really didn't want the drive this time). We finished packing and got everyone and everything into the car, I vetoed our earlier plan to stop at Chipotle on the way so Alex could get some dinner, we dropped off M, and Josh and Kari very thoughtfully traded us a well-stocked cooler for our firstborn. An hour after my water had broken, we arrived at the hospital. It was about 6:15 and the front entrance was still open so we just assumed that was where we were supposed to go. Whoops. The admitting desk was closed although the entrance was open, so we traversed seemingly endless hallways to get to the ER so we could check in there. Meanwhile I was leaking amniotic fluid all over the hospital and hoping that anyone who saw us would realize that the very pregnant woman waddling through hospital halls was probably in labor and hadn't merely peed her pants. Gross, I know.
Once we got to the ER they called a labor and delivery nurse down to pick us up. And, naturally, I had to convince her as well that my water really had broken. She obviously didn't look at my pants before ushering me into the wheelchair. When we got up to the L&D triage room she handed me a gown and pointed me to the bathroom while explaining that they would do a culture on the fluid I was leaking to see if my water really had broken. Thankfully as soon as I stood up and started walking she saw the evidence for herself and was finally convinced. She immediately moved us to our room and started getting us situated.
With M we were in the hospital for almost 7 hours before my water broke, and everything was very quiet and low-key (minus, you know, the contractions and all). This experience was completely the opposite. From the time we entered the room to the time Liam was born we were left alone for maybe a total of 5 minutes. The first order of business was to simultaneously put in my IV (strep B positive, blech) and ... take my medical history? Seriously? This hospital is connected with our healthcare group, and so I kind of just assumed they had access to my medical records. I don't remember being asked anywhere near this number of questions with M. Three needle sticks and uncountable questions later I was getting my antibiotic and was able to concentrate on contractions without talking to the nurse in between. For, you know, five minutes. Then the OB on call came in to introduce himself and talk to me about... I don't even remember what. Being strep B positive, getting tested for HIV so they didn't have to test Liam after he was born and apparently I should've been tested during pregnancy (really? is that just standard for everyone?). So. Much. Talking!
Thankfully our nurse and the OB were both entirely supportive of our desire to have a natural labor and birth. They just talked in really loud voices. A lot. And even though we'd been told on our hospital tour that the hospital policy was only ice chips and popsicles during labor (lame) no one scolded Alex for giving me juice and water.
I didn't get to move around as much as I'd planned, mostly because everything went so quickly. I was stuck in bed while they labored (ha, get it?) to get my IV in and got their initial monitor readings. By the time the antibiotic and the questions were done, my contractions were so hard and fast that I didn't want to try to get out of bed. I did have Alex raise the back of the bed all the way and kneel facing it for a while, and that was helpful. But these contractions were so much more painful than I remembered with M--thankfully my labor was much shorter.
Labor with Michael was a marathon; Liam was a very intense sprint. I suppose part of that is laboring for only about an hour after my water broke with M, and for several hours after it broke with Liam. That cushion makes a
huge difference.
After about two hours (it felt so much longer) of intense, excruciating contractions it was finally time to push. I had wanted to push while lying on my side to minimize risk of tearing again, and my OB was willing to let me try it, but it didn't work out quite like I wanted. He and nurse still wanted my feet more or less in the stirrups, so I ended up kind of on my side but fairly twisted (which, I'm fairly sure, contributed significantly to my back/hip problems of the last few weeks). It did achieve the desired result, however--I had only a very minor tear which didn't even require stitches.
This time around pushing wasn't the relief I had expected--it was harder than I remembered, and for the first 20 minutes or so it didn't feel like it was doing
anything. The OB had me adjust my position a bit, and finally pushing got productive. After Liam crowned the OB announced that the reason I'd been pushing with so little result previously was that the little stink butt (my term of endearment, not his) was posterior. So earlier when I'd thought, "Man, these contractions are hurting my back
way more than in labor with Michael" it was because it
was back labor!
So almost exactly 4 hours after my water broke, Liam Roderick was born at 9:13pm on November 3rd, a healthy 8 lbs 6 oz, 20" long--and a whole week early! His head was fairly bruised from headbutting my hips and tailbone throughout labor, but you could hardly see the bruising through all his dark hair.
I got to hold him immediately, and the clever little boy started nursing pretty much right away. The nurses gave us almost an hour to enjoy our little boy almost uninterrupted before weighing, measuring, etc.--and when they did come in for that they did everything right in our room, much to our delight. Apparently 8 lbs 6 oz was large for his gestational age, so he had to have his heel pricked for glucose tests every two hours for the first 12 hours, but his levels were fine so we didn't have to fight any battles concerning supplementing.
I cannot find the words to express how amazing Alex was at coaching me through all of this. He did such an incredible job of keeping me (more or less) calm and focused, fielding the plethora of questions when the nurse or doctor didn't realize they'd asked me something right as a contraction was starting, and encouraging me. And he's still doing all that--telling me I'm a wonderful mother when I really don't feel like it, giving me permission to be thoroughly and completely exhausted even though Liam is sleeping better than Michael did, making sure I get some time for myself, and so on. I am so incredibly blessed!
More on our first few weeks coming later... I won't make any promises about how much later, but now that my back is feeling so much better I don't think it will be another three weeks before I post again :)
