Mr. Miles had a different timetable in mind.
After a discouraging midwife appointment on Friday the 20th, I spent the weekend trying to wish myself into labor. Long walks (waddles) around the neighborhood, keeping busy, etc. But the clock kept ticking and nothing was happening. Nothing! It was becoming a cruel and unusual punishment. Each night I would think, tonight is the night!!! And each morning I would wake up still pregnant and even more discouraged. I would lay awake at night and cry at how uncomfortable I felt. I was a miserable sight.
On Wednesday the 25th, the day after my due date, I had another visit with my midwife, Anne. We made a plan to induce me if I hadn't gone into labor by Sunday. She told me she expected to see me before then. I told her of my birthday party plan and how the window of opportunity had passed to have the baby and be home before the party. She told me I better lay low then =) She was on call all weekend, and I was thrilled that she would most likely be the one to deliver Miles. By the grace of God, I left her office feeling like I wouldn't be pregnant forever. I was rejuvenated and finally out of my funk.
I spent the next two days on self-imposed bed rest. It was awesome-ish. My snoogle body pillow and I laid on the couch and watched my people get things ready for the party. Friday the 27th was so incredible it deserves a whole separate blog post! Coming soon!
On Wednesday the 25th, the day after my due date, I had another visit with my midwife, Anne. We made a plan to induce me if I hadn't gone into labor by Sunday. She told me she expected to see me before then. I told her of my birthday party plan and how the window of opportunity had passed to have the baby and be home before the party. She told me I better lay low then =) She was on call all weekend, and I was thrilled that she would most likely be the one to deliver Miles. By the grace of God, I left her office feeling like I wouldn't be pregnant forever. I was rejuvenated and finally out of my funk.
I spent the next two days on self-imposed bed rest. It was awesome-ish. My snoogle body pillow and I laid on the couch and watched my people get things ready for the party. Friday the 27th was so incredible it deserves a whole separate blog post! Coming soon!
 |
| Bedrest at it's finest. Did I mention I also had a cold? |
On Saturday morning, I woke up feeling those wonderfully familiar cramps. I couldn't get over the fact that I was in labor just hours after my birthday party ended. Miles really knew what he was doing.
I rode the contractions out for a bit, just to be sure. I showered, and tried to snuggle Maxwell a little bit extra before his world got rocked. After an hour or two, I knew it was going down for real (#gdfr) and I started to get a little panicky. Because, as everyone had told me, 2nd babies come so quickly!
(False.)
(False.)
 |
| Me: "Ok Max, I'm about to leave so I can give birth to your best friend" Max: "Cool but can you turn on Netflix before you go?" |
I gave Anne a quick call to let her know wassup. She told me to head her way. With spring kickball leagues starting on Monday, Mike started rushing around with final preparations, knowing he would be a little occupied over the next 48 hours. Max left to hang with his cousins, so I sat on the couch and breathed through each contraction while watching Mike race around the yard/garage/house/etc.
On the way to the hospital, I held on to the door handle to bear the bumps in the road on Monaco Pkwy. I cursed the city of Denver for not taking better care to fix potholes.
We pulled up to the hospital and I huffed it inside. It was like an obstacle course to get to the right place. We took the wrong elevator so we had to go back down and find the right one. All I could remember from our hospital class was "follow the green line". Once we found said green line, I had to pause every so often along the way to hunch over and breathe through some serious contractions. It was such a great feeling to know that IT WAS ALL HAPPENING!!!!
Finally we arrived on the right floor and we were met in the hallway by Anne and a red head who would be my nurse. Nurse Red followed me into the bathroom as I went in to change into the hospital gown and she pelted me with some unexpected questions: "Is there anything you don't want your husband to know? Any patterns of abuse or any problems at home?" I guess this is what happens when your sister and her friends aren't your labor and delivery nurses.
Nurse Red got right to work with me. I issued her Strike 1 when she used the term "blood bath" while administering my IV. I issued her Strike 2 with her incessant questioning during each of my contractions. I thought she might take a clue when I went silent but she did not.
Because I was GBS+, they were acting fast to get my antibiotics flowing, as they wanted me to have two doses in before I delivered. And as we all know, we needed to get cracking since 2nd babies come so fast.
(False.)
It wasn't long before I was epidural'd up and able to just sit back and relax. That is such a magical time...there is a whole bustling world outside the hospital window, and they're oblivious to this huge life event that is about to take place in this room. Even though I'm not the first or the last to give birth, it feels like I have this special secret going on. Mike and I napped, watched Netflix, listened to Brendan James (of course I was on a serious B James high from the night before!!!)
At 5pm, there was a shift change. Out with Nurse Red, in with Carrie and...Aaron. A Murse. When he first walked in I thought, oh hell no! I can't have a murse! Then I remembered that a man ultimately ended up delivering Max and what's the diff? So I was over it in about 1 second and soon, my new nurse gang and I were having a great time!!! These two were awesome. Funny when they needed to be, professional when they needed to be...I was so happy to have these two around.
By 6:30pm, my final dose of antibiotics were in, so by 8pm, it was time to start the pushing. We had the Kentucky/Notre Dame game playing on TV, and I thought, oh cool! Miles will be born during the game! You know, because 2nd babies come so quickly.
(False.)
They turned on the warmers in the baby bed so that it was ready for Miles when he arrived. He'd be here in no time, since we all know, 2nd babies just slide right out!
(False.)
It was like Maxwell's birth all over again. Me, pushing in every position ever imagined. Me, wanting to see excitement in the faces of the nurses, but instead seeing them try to stay positive and try to keep me motivated. I kept thinking, why am I so bad at pushing?! Isn't this how it's supposed to happen?! I was exhausted, frustrated, starving, and thirsty. I was begging for water, ice, anything!! I felt like I had been crab crawling through a desert for a week. Anne allowed me to have small "champagne" sips of water, but was pretty hardcore about limiting my fluids. (I later learned it was because they were nervous I was on my way to the OR.)
After two hours with little progress, they decided to give me some time to rest. It was discouraging to see them turn off the warmers in the baby bed, since it wouldn't be holding a baby any time soon. I hated this. I was frustrated and I just wanted it to be over. I didn't want to wait. I wanted to keep trying. They gave me an injection to relax my uterus (or something?) and told me to rest. I laid there and tried so hard to not be upset with my body. Sweet Carrie came over to me and I told her I was nervous I was headed for a c-section. She said, "Okay listen...I don't mean to get all 'granola' on you, but you need to imagine your baby coming out. You need to visualize it and send good thoughts to him." I absolutely loved her and was so glad she had put it that way. I started to only focus on Miles being born in that room, not in an OR.
Around 10:30pm, I sent Mike to the nurses station to see if I could start pushing again. I was anxious and determined to have Miles before midnight. They came back in and agreed that it was time. I was in a fog of nighttime hospital room lights and just needed this all to be over. I pushed and pushed and pushed again with all my might. I pushed so hard I felt like I would pass out. Anne promised me a glass of cold, icy fruit punch once the baby was out. Again, I looked for signs of progress on the faces of the nurses. Soon, it felt like I was finally getting somewhere, and Anne began to realize that this was a rather large baby. There was talk of his shoulders getting stuck and what they would do if that happened. It sounded scary and I felt like I might freak out if I thought too much about it, so I had to just ignore the instructions. A NICU nurse came in, just in case. A few other people came in, just in case. Really all of this was a blur. I couldn't focus on the "what-ifs"...I just had to get him out.
With each contraction, I felt more and more pressure, and felt like it was finally happening. Anne asked if I wanted to reach down and feel his head. I was like, absolutely not!!! I felt like if I moved, I would lose the progress I had made. In between contractions, I was miserable, I knew I would only get relief once he was out, but that I would have to wait for another contraction. I just had to surrender to the pain.
Then, at 11;47pm, our sweet Miles was placed on my chest. Any concerns that Anne had were gone, so he was able to lay on my chest while they cleaned him off. I didn't get to do this with Max, and it was just as incredible as I imagined. He let out his teeny, adorable little cries, and I just stared at him. It's a funny thing to see the face of the little baby that you've just spent the last 40+ weeks with. I was so amazed that he was finally, finally, finally here. Anne and the nurses were guessing at how big he was, and were just sure that he was at least 10 pounds. I don't know much about appropriate baby sizes but I was positive that I wasn't capable of growing and birthing a 10 pound baby.
(False.)
Miles Edward
March 28, 2015
11:47pm
10 lbs, 4 oz | 21 inches
Needless to say, we all love this little fella. It's like he's always been here. Max calls him "brother", loves to give him kisses and appropriately says "eww" every time I change a diaper.
Life is good in this hood.
Finally we arrived on the right floor and we were met in the hallway by Anne and a red head who would be my nurse. Nurse Red followed me into the bathroom as I went in to change into the hospital gown and she pelted me with some unexpected questions: "Is there anything you don't want your husband to know? Any patterns of abuse or any problems at home?" I guess this is what happens when your sister and her friends aren't your labor and delivery nurses.
Nurse Red got right to work with me. I issued her Strike 1 when she used the term "blood bath" while administering my IV. I issued her Strike 2 with her incessant questioning during each of my contractions. I thought she might take a clue when I went silent but she did not.
Because I was GBS+, they were acting fast to get my antibiotics flowing, as they wanted me to have two doses in before I delivered. And as we all know, we needed to get cracking since 2nd babies come so fast.
(False.)
It wasn't long before I was epidural'd up and able to just sit back and relax. That is such a magical time...there is a whole bustling world outside the hospital window, and they're oblivious to this huge life event that is about to take place in this room. Even though I'm not the first or the last to give birth, it feels like I have this special secret going on. Mike and I napped, watched Netflix, listened to Brendan James (of course I was on a serious B James high from the night before!!!)
At 5pm, there was a shift change. Out with Nurse Red, in with Carrie and...Aaron. A Murse. When he first walked in I thought, oh hell no! I can't have a murse! Then I remembered that a man ultimately ended up delivering Max and what's the diff? So I was over it in about 1 second and soon, my new nurse gang and I were having a great time!!! These two were awesome. Funny when they needed to be, professional when they needed to be...I was so happy to have these two around.
 |
| Just me, my nurse friends, and a giant yellow ball called "peanut" that was supposedly helping get the baby out. |
By 6:30pm, my final dose of antibiotics were in, so by 8pm, it was time to start the pushing. We had the Kentucky/Notre Dame game playing on TV, and I thought, oh cool! Miles will be born during the game! You know, because 2nd babies come so quickly.
(False.)
They turned on the warmers in the baby bed so that it was ready for Miles when he arrived. He'd be here in no time, since we all know, 2nd babies just slide right out!
(False.)
It was like Maxwell's birth all over again. Me, pushing in every position ever imagined. Me, wanting to see excitement in the faces of the nurses, but instead seeing them try to stay positive and try to keep me motivated. I kept thinking, why am I so bad at pushing?! Isn't this how it's supposed to happen?! I was exhausted, frustrated, starving, and thirsty. I was begging for water, ice, anything!! I felt like I had been crab crawling through a desert for a week. Anne allowed me to have small "champagne" sips of water, but was pretty hardcore about limiting my fluids. (I later learned it was because they were nervous I was on my way to the OR.)
After two hours with little progress, they decided to give me some time to rest. It was discouraging to see them turn off the warmers in the baby bed, since it wouldn't be holding a baby any time soon. I hated this. I was frustrated and I just wanted it to be over. I didn't want to wait. I wanted to keep trying. They gave me an injection to relax my uterus (or something?) and told me to rest. I laid there and tried so hard to not be upset with my body. Sweet Carrie came over to me and I told her I was nervous I was headed for a c-section. She said, "Okay listen...I don't mean to get all 'granola' on you, but you need to imagine your baby coming out. You need to visualize it and send good thoughts to him." I absolutely loved her and was so glad she had put it that way. I started to only focus on Miles being born in that room, not in an OR.
Around 10:30pm, I sent Mike to the nurses station to see if I could start pushing again. I was anxious and determined to have Miles before midnight. They came back in and agreed that it was time. I was in a fog of nighttime hospital room lights and just needed this all to be over. I pushed and pushed and pushed again with all my might. I pushed so hard I felt like I would pass out. Anne promised me a glass of cold, icy fruit punch once the baby was out. Again, I looked for signs of progress on the faces of the nurses. Soon, it felt like I was finally getting somewhere, and Anne began to realize that this was a rather large baby. There was talk of his shoulders getting stuck and what they would do if that happened. It sounded scary and I felt like I might freak out if I thought too much about it, so I had to just ignore the instructions. A NICU nurse came in, just in case. A few other people came in, just in case. Really all of this was a blur. I couldn't focus on the "what-ifs"...I just had to get him out.
With each contraction, I felt more and more pressure, and felt like it was finally happening. Anne asked if I wanted to reach down and feel his head. I was like, absolutely not!!! I felt like if I moved, I would lose the progress I had made. In between contractions, I was miserable, I knew I would only get relief once he was out, but that I would have to wait for another contraction. I just had to surrender to the pain.
Then, at 11;47pm, our sweet Miles was placed on my chest. Any concerns that Anne had were gone, so he was able to lay on my chest while they cleaned him off. I didn't get to do this with Max, and it was just as incredible as I imagined. He let out his teeny, adorable little cries, and I just stared at him. It's a funny thing to see the face of the little baby that you've just spent the last 40+ weeks with. I was so amazed that he was finally, finally, finally here. Anne and the nurses were guessing at how big he was, and were just sure that he was at least 10 pounds. I don't know much about appropriate baby sizes but I was positive that I wasn't capable of growing and birthing a 10 pound baby.
(False.)
Miles Edward
March 28, 2015
11:47pm
10 lbs, 4 oz | 21 inches
Needless to say, we all love this little fella. It's like he's always been here. Max calls him "brother", loves to give him kisses and appropriately says "eww" every time I change a diaper.
Life is good in this hood.
