Playful Rooted

It’s been almost two weeks since our perfect, precious second-born joined us here in the world, and I’ve had a chance to reflect on his amazing birth. There are honestly still moments throughout the day where I feel like I’m dreaming and it can’t possibly have happened yet! I really can’t believe it’s over and that everything went the way it did.

I know it’s a little irritating to begin a story with another story, BUT I think the context is necessary here because parts of Sawyer’s birth were heavily influenced by my lingering fears after Luca’s birth. (Sorry, Sawyer – I promise I know you’re unique and yourself and completely different from your brother!!)

Part 0: The Prequel

I went into Luca’s birth planning on a natural experience – in the hospital, but with no interventions. It didn’t turn out that way. And I really tried! I followed all the rules before we even considered going to the hospital. I labored at home for over ten hours before we left. I was having contractions every four minutes that lasted at least a minute each for several hours. That’s what we learned in birth class was the right time to go to the hospital, and so it felt like I wasn’t being a crazy first-time mom. My doula was very confident it was the right time, too, and that I would be at least five centimeters dilated and in active labor. Well. We arrived at the hospital and I was….TWO centimeters. Two. They wanted to send me home but monitored me for a bit, and I was definitely having intense, long contractions every couple minutes, so they felt that I was established enough in labor to keep me there. There’s a lot more to this story, but basically, I was held in the cold, tiny triage room with no comfort measures for MANY hours and (surprise, surprise!) didn’t progress at all the entire time. They finally moved me to a labor room, and I continued laboring with no pain medication. Every few hours, someone would do a cervical check, and each time, I had barely made any progress, despite the agonizing pain and the hard work I was doing. Over the next nine hours (19 hours of labor total), I had dilated from two centimeters to a whopping three. It was midnight at this point; I had been so nauseous that I hadn’t eaten anything since the day before, and I had thrown up all the water I had tried to drink during labor. I was SO depleted and exhausted that I ended up getting an epidural just so I could get some sleep. It was a really hard decision because I did NOT want interventions, but it was absolutely the right thing for that experience. I woke up in the morning, and even though my body had continued laboring all night (from midnight to around 7:30), I had only progressed from three centimeters to four. So over 26 hours of intense labor at this point, and depending who you asked, I wasn’t even technically in active labor yet! It was truly the most demoralizing experience of my entire life. I couldn’t believe how hard I had worked and how little any of it was accomplishing. Long story short, I then ended up getting Pitocin and progressed from four centimeters to ten very quickly, then Luca was born in just a few pushes. After thirty hours of labor. It was all worth it, of course, but….it was such a difficult experience. The physical part was obviously incredibly hard, but the emotional part left a LOT more scars – scars I didn’t even realize hadn’t healed before Sawyer’s birth.

Okay ENOUGH about Luca; this is Sawyer’s birth story! (I see you, baby!) ((How obvious is my own status as a second child right now??)) 

Part 1: The Denial

I was 100% sure I would make it to at least 39 weeks with this pregnancy, so when Sawyer ended up coming at 38 weeks and 2 days, I was in complete denial about it. The more I reflect on it now, though, the more I realize how perfectly everything lined up that day. First, I had randomly ordered groceries that morning, so our fridge was fully stocked with snacks for my birth crew and groceries for afterward. Luca also skipped his nap that day, which is rare, and which was integral to his sleeping through the entire birth. I had also had an amazing chiropractic adjustment that day; for the first time in weeks, my tailbone was in alignment, and I felt amazing. AND I randomly took a baby bump photo that day, after not having taken one for several weeks. (I’m so glad I took that!)

So, Thursday, July 11th. I had been having very irregular contractions for a few weeks; never anything that I timed or paid much attention to at all since most were pretty mild. I went to the chiropractor on Thursday around 6pm, and after my appointment, I called my sister. While talking to her on the 30-minute drive home, I had several contractions. This wasn’t completely uncommon, so I really didn’t think much of it; I just remember noticing it and mentioning it to her during our conversation. I swore they were just Braxton-Hicks and nothing important or worth getting excited about.

I got home and made dinner, then afterward, I gave Luca his bath and put him to bed. I remember that I lingered in his room that night. As any second-time mom knows, it’s a VERY emotional thing, bringing a sibling into the mix, and it had been really important to me over these last few weeks to let Luca know how loved and special and important he is and will always be. It wasn’t necessarily intuition that Sawyer was coming that night, but I’m glad I had that last special time with my first-born. 

Afterward, while cleaning up the kitchen, I had a huge nesting urge. I finished the dishes, swept and mopped the kitchen floor, cleaned all the bathrooms, and finished up the pile of laundry on my bed. During this time, I continued having sporadic contractions, including a couple that I had to stop what I was doing and breathe through; once or twice, on my hands and knees. I was experiencing them more as strong pressure rather than pain, so I still didn’t think much of them or pay too much attention.

Around 11pm, after my nesting spree, Ben was downstairs working, and I laid down in bed to catch up on The Handmaid’s Tale. Because I’m stupid. This is legitimately the worst show I could possibly watch while pregnant, let alone about to give birth! And the worst episode of the season so far, pregnancy- and childbirth-wise. I skipped through some of the rougher parts of it and made it almost to the end when I realized that, again, I had had quite a few contractions during the 45-minute show. Because I had been having them for a few weeks, I think I was just used to contractions at that point, but as I thought over the last hour or so, and realized how many I had actually had, I started realizing that things MIGHT be happening.

Part 2: The Acknowledgement

Around midnight, I went downstairs and told Ben that it could definitely be a false alarm, but that just in case, he might want to get some sleep that night. (He’s a night owl and often will work into the morning hours.) I had said the exact same thing to him while he was up late working before Luca was born, so….tradition! He wisely listened and went in to lie down in Luca’s room instead of ours. I can’t remember exactly why, but I was secretly glad because I just wanted to lie down in bed by myself.

The next couple hours passed by in a bit of a blur. I knew that I was having regular contractions, but given my history, I knew it could be a LONG haul until it was actually baby time. I didn’t want to alert anyone too early, especially since the midwives were coming to me and not the other way around. I had been practicing Hypnobabies for this birth, so I put on my headphones and listened to a track called “Your Birthing Time Begins.” I was still somewhat in denial that this could actually be my birthing time, but I figured it would at least relax me and distract me from the contractions.

It didn’t.

I was still feeling the contractions as pressure rather than pain, but they did start increasing in intensity, and I couldn’t ignore them. I was breathing pretty heavily through them and finally decided I needed to time a couple of them, just to see. I checked the time on my phone when they started, and it seemed like they were about six or seven minutes apart. I didn’t have a contraction timer app on my phone yet – because I knew he wasn’t coming for another week at least! – so I quickly downloaded one and started officially timing at about 1 am.

I continued listening to my Hypnobabies track and kept timing contractions for the next hour. They were definitely coming every six minutes, which with my history seemed too far apart to notify anyone, but I was surprised by the duration. Each one lasted around a minute, and some were more than 70 seconds. That’s what prompted me to tentatively text the midwives at about 2 am:

I really didn’t expect them to spring into action right away, and I started feeling nervous that I was getting them here too early. I figured I still had many, many, many hours to go. But because they were confident, I started getting things ready. In between contractions, I set out a bunch of snacks for everyone and took care of some last minute necessities, like snapping this final pregnancy photo at 2:30 am.  😉

Our plan had been to have my sister come over to take care of Luca during the birth, so I texted her also, letting her know that it *might* be very early baby time. She didn’t respond, but I figured I would just let her know later in the morning how things were going and when she might start to think about coming over.

I then went in to Luca’s room and woke Ben up. I told him the midwives were on their way, and he said, “Holy crap, okay.” 🙂 He got up and started setting up the birthing tub while I laid in bed and listened to some birthing tracks. I remember this is around the time I started moaning through contractions instead of just breathing. I still would categorize it as pressure and not exactly pain, but it wasn’t comfortable or something I could be distracted from any longer.

Kara and Julie arrived at around 3am and checked to see how I was doing. It felt really really nice to have them here, although I was still anxious that it was way too early. They don’t do cervical checks generally, which is amazing, but they checked my vitals and made sure baby was tolerating the contractions well. Everything sounded perfect, so I just continued doing my thing while Ben and Julie set up the birth tub and Kara stayed near me. I labored mostly on the bed during this time, either lying on my left side or up on hands and knees. My sister called at 3:45; she had randomly woken up and checked her phone to see my message. I talked to her and told her things were progressing but that we had plenty of time and she didn’t need to come right away. We were still talking when I started another contraction and had to hang up on her. Definitely couldn’t talk through them anymore!
Ben and Julie had gotten the birth tub almost filled up in our master bathroom, and at that moment, I had to pee. It was too tight in the master to squeeze past the tub, so I went down the hall to the guest bathroom instead. I ended up just sitting there afterward, backwards on the toilet because it felt really really good. A few minutes later, Kara came in to see where I had gone and if I was okay. She asked if I was ready for the tub, and I said yes, then on the way back to my bedroom, she mentioned that I should get in soon, otherwise I might miss the opportunity.

It was at this point that I started internally freaking out a bit. Kara seemed so sure that I was going to have a baby soon, and I got SO scared that it was going to be a repeat experience of Luca’s birth. I had a total visceral flashback to the doula being totally sure that it was time to go to the hospital and then being so completely wrong. I got so worried that I was only at the very beginning of another incredibly long journey. I didn’t want to go through that again myself, and I also didn’t want to disappoint everyone who was here to support me. 

I tried to put my fears out of my head as I got in the birth tub. It felt amazing; nature’s epidural for sure. It was about 4am at this point and I remember feeling pretty good for a few contractions, taking each one as it came. I had to moan through them and spent most of the time on my hands and knees or lying over the side of the tub and holding the tub handles or Ben’s hand. I kept demanding cold towels on my back and forehead, and Ben was great about getting them for me. Soon, I was feeling the contractions HEAVILY, and I started doing horse lips to get through them. After a few cycles of this, Julie mentioned that because I was doing this, she had a suspicion that I was starting to feel pushy. I didn’t believe that was possible at ALL, so I said (well, barked), “No, you’re wrong! I’m just doing this because it feels better.” She (nicely) replied, “Okayyy,” and I knew she didn’t believe me, but I just couldn’t believe that she could be right! And that’s when my head really took over and made the next part so much harder.

Part 3: The Reckoning

The memory of Luca’s birth and that latent fear of everyone thinking I was further along than I actually was hit me like a BRICK WALL. I was still so, so completely sure that I had SO much farther to go. The fear changed everything. Everything that I had been doing to get through the contractions semi-comfortably stopped working. I knew, I knew, I was only at the very beginning of another long labor, and that’s when I started experiencing real PAIN. I couldn’t moan through the contractions anymore. I couldn’t do anything except yell and scream and say, “I don’t want to do this. I can’t do this!” over and over. I sounded like the stereotypical woman in transition, but I did NOT believe I could actually be in transition. I’ve often heard women describe it as one contraction after another with no break in between, and I was still experiencing a break between them, so I knew I couldn’t be in transition. I knew I still had so far to go.  

Although they don’t do cervical checks in general, Kara offered to check me to see how much my cervix had dilated; really, to prove that it actually was time and I could start pushing. I agreed, because I wanted to know, but I was TERRIFIED. I was absolutely sure I would only be at five centimeters. (When we talked about it later, Ben admitted he had the exact same flashbacks of Luca’s birth and fear that I wouldn’t even be close.) I announced to the room that if I were at a five, I was going to the hospital. This is my one big regret from labor, saying that. Obviously no one (including myself) took me seriously, and I regretted it instantly afterward. The logistics alone didn’t make sense – I’d have to get out of the tub, put on clothes, and drive a half hour to the hospital while still in crazy pain; and who would take care of Luca?? It was probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever said in a long string of dumb things that I’ve said.

I braced myself for the worst news as she checked me, and then Kara told me: I was at a 10. No, no, this couldn’t be. I said, “Are you lying? You’re lying to make me feel better. Are you lying??” She said, “Well…” and my heart started to sink, but then she said, “You’re at a 9.5. There’s a little lip, but you can push now to get the baby over it.”

I could not believe what I was hearing. There was NO WAY I could already be ready to push. I was still so far in my own head that I think I probably asked 20 times if she was lying to me. (Sorry, Kara!! Labor really brings out the best in people.) I just couldn’t make myself believe it, and for some reason, my body started resisting even harder. Instead of using the contractions to push, I was just fighting against them. I wasn’t feeling the urge to push at all, so each of the next few contractions felt like torture. Then I decided that, screw this, if I were going to be in this much pain either way, I might as well give it a purpose. So I started pushing – or trying. I had always envisioned birthing this baby in the water, but when it came down to it, I really couldn’t push in the tub very well at all. I wasn’t getting enough leverage against the bottom of the tub, and it just felt very clumsy and unproductive. Julie noticed that I wasn’t able to stay under the water while pushing, and that’s obviously super dangerous – if the baby’s head comes out under water, it can’t come above the water and then go back under. She suggested that we try something different and move to the bed instead. Since I was struggling in the tub, I agreed, and we all caravanned me to the bed, where I got on my hands and knees and continued pushing with each contraction. 

Pushing out of the water was HARD, but way more effective. The fact that I was actively working toward something and could work with the pain was a million times better than just awaiting and then surviving the contractions. 

Right before I got on the bed to push, my sister miraculously showed up. Ben asked her to take some photos, and I’m so glad he did. Even though I look like absolute death, these are some of my favorite photos that have ever been taken. In the moment, I’m not sure I would have said I felt powerful, but looking back at these….man. I was powerful. Birth is powerful.

The pushing phase felt like an eternity to me, although when I asked afterward, Julie said it was less than 15 minutes. I pushed HARD with each contraction and tried to stay engaged in between. I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to take a break, but I was NOT trying to lose any ground that I had gained. At one point, Kara told me to reach down and feel my baby’s head, and that was so surreal. I was still in utter shock that this was all happening so quickly and that it was really time. Finally, my baby was crowning, and it was so intense. I pushed his head out while screaming my own head completely off. I felt the biggest sense of relief once his head was out, but I couldn’t see anything, so I screamed, “What’s happening?!?” and someone said, “Your baby’s head is out!” I heard Kara say, “Okay, next contraction, you’ll push the rest of baby’s body out!” I geared up for more pain, but with just one solid push, I felt his shoulders and body slide out easily. Kara caught him and pushed him between my legs up to my chest, where I grabbed my precious baby, then slumped backward onto my thighs and took the deepest, most euphoric breaths of my life. HEAVEN. Heaven.

During pregnancy, I had focused so much on visualizing and creating a peaceful, gentle birth – especially the pushing part. HahahahahahaNO. This was, hands down, the hardest, most intense work I have ever done. It was not peaceful. It was not gentle. But it was freaking incredible. 

Part 4: The Bliss

We waited nine long months to find out the gender, so immediately, Ben and I both scrambled to look, fully expecting to find a baby girl. We were both SHOCKED to see that he was most definitely a boy! (I’m still shocked by this, honestly. I would have bet a thousand dollars that he was a girl!) We looked at each other and both shouted, “It’s a boy!!!” and cracked up. THIS is my favorite picture ever taken. 😉 

The next hour or so was just the best ever. I really can’t describe the feeling of being at home, in my own bed, with only people here who I really wanted to be here, while I held my baby for the first time. We looked at his fingers and toes and face, this tiny, huge creature who had lived inside me until a few minutes before. So amazing. Kara and Julie cleaned everything up while Ben and I laid in bed snuggling our boy. After a while, Kara came over to check on my placenta, and with just a gentle push and a little tug, it came right out. So much different than the aggressive uterine “massage” at the hospital! I was prepared for some pain, but it didn’t hurt even a little bit. They also checked to see if I had torn at all, and I only had two tiny lacerations that didn’t need stitches. This truly blows my mind because while pushing, I would have sworn my entire body was ripping in half. The female body is miraculous.

After about an hour, Ben cut the cord, and then we weighed and measured our little man – 7lbs, 4oz, and 19.5 inches long. My sister took some more photos, and then when Luca woke up a while later, she went in to tell him the news.

Speaking of Luca, I am still 100% stunned that he slept through the whole thing. His bedroom shares its main wall with our master bathroom, which is where I did the hardest, loudest work. Sometimes even just flushing the toilet in there causes Luca to wake up in his bedroom, so….I’m not sure exactly HOW he slept through me screaming bloody murder for an hour, but he did! Thank goodness he skipped his nap that day. I was really glad my sister was here because Luca didn’t want to come in right away to see the baby. It makes me proud that he knows himself that well and knew he needed some time to adjust to the idea first. So he and my sister ate muffins and watered our plants and just took some time together, then when he was ready, Luca came in the bedroom. His first words to the baby were, “Hey Sawyer. What’s up?” 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 It was such a thrill to see both of my babies together. Brothers! (Still can’t believe it.) (Also Luca seems HUGE now.)

Sawyer was born a few minutes after 5am, and I would say my experience of labor began around 11pm, so it was about a 6-hour endeavor. I had definitely been in early labor throughout the day, but it was very easy to ignore/deny/work through. And even in active labor, I experienced most of it as pressure and not pain; it honestly didn’t even get BAD until the paralyzing fear set in in my mind around 4am. I really think if I had realized that I needed to work through these fears first, it could have been a LOT easier for that last hour. But one hour of super hard work to have a gorgeous, perfect little son? Yeah….I’ll take that.

In summation of this whole experience, my midwives are amazing and were right about everything, and I was very, very wrong. And I’ve never been SO happy to be SO wrong! 😉

Welcome to the world, my love!

❤ ❤ ❤