Tater was born last Sunday evening. As I type, it's been a couple of hours since Mimi and Poppy have left after cooking, baking and doing housework all week. They left us with a fixed toilet, hooks hung in the downstairs hallway, empty laundry hampers, outside animals taken care of, and a refrigerator full of food-- just to name a few. I have been living the life of a queen who just had a baby-- the one who hasn't had to lift a finger all week. Consequently, I'm feeling just about back to normal today, which is day five.
Here's how things happened.
On Saturday morning, I had signs that let me know that labor was imminent. By that evening, my mama had come down to stay with the kids in case we needed to go to the hospital during the night. I had some hard contractions, but nothing in a pattern. That was the mystery of this whole labor- no regular timing between contractions. I called Poppy and Mimi to let them know that I thought things were going to happen, but that I still wasn't sure. I read Cutie's birth story to gauge when Tater might arrive. It would definitely be by Monday.
I woke up Sunday morning at 4:30 with contractions that I couldn't sleep through. At 8:30, I called Poppy and Mimi again to update them; they had already left. I went about more nesting activities; the girls' room was finally cleared out and ready for the dresser that my dad would bring down when he came to meet Tater. I wiped down the master bathroom vanity and got rid of toothpaste splatters. Detail-oriented nesting, I tell you. Intermittent, strong contractions. I poured up a jar of raw milk and a jar of tangy beet kvass to take to the hospital and drink during labor. The kvass looked like wine. I decided that for the hospital, I'd keep the jars in New Daddy's lunch bag.
Sunday afternoon, New Daddy had settled down for a nap when I had a contraction that had felt like transition in my other labors. I woke him up and said, "Let's go." We brought Precious, who was going to be present for the birth, and arrived at the hospital around 2:00. Poppy and Mimi were just getting there also, and we waved at them on our way into the parking garage.
New Daddy wheeled me to the delivery area, where we were told that they didn't have a room. No, wait, she can have Room 5. Phew-- I got a room. We later realized that Sunday was a baby boom day at the hospital. My midwife came in with a nurse. I was at 3 cm, 90% effaced, minus 1 station. Not bad, but a woman who's had children before can walk around for weeks at a 3. I started to wonder if I'd come to the hospital too early. They hooked me up to the wireless monitors and waited about 10 minutes for a contraction. Nothing happened. I grinned sheepishly at the midwife as I admitted that I hadn't exactly been having "contractions five to seven minutes apart for at least an hour," as I had been instructed to before I showed up at the hospital. "They've been really strong, though!" Sheepish chuckle.
The midwife told me to get out of bed and start walking. I had been lazy all day (not counting the nesting I had done earlier), because when I had gotten up previously, I immediately had painful contractions. So I obeyed the midwife and started pacing the room. We played Ralph Vaughan Williams on the Kindle Fire. The one movement that I put on repeat turned out to be "My Bonny Boy." It made me smile when I paced by and read the title. I was going to meet my bonny boy in a little while! I looked at the clock and decided that he would probably be here by 7 PM if this really was the day.
I heard nothing from the midwife. I had been kneeling and squatting for contractions, but the pain was much worse than any of my other labors. After an hour and a half of irregular, but painful contractions, we called the midwife and asked her to see if I'd progressed. I was 4 cm, still at the minus 1-- almost no gain for all of that pain. Yuck.
After the midwife left, New Daddy put up his game of Doodle Jump, came over and hugged me, and it set off a contraction. I held onto him, because it was comforting. And I realized that hanging onto him was a good way to get through a contraction (and wasn't that one of the birthing positions I saw in a book somewhere?). That was what we did for the rest of the afternoon. New Daddy left me a few times, once to ask Mimi and Poppy to run to Earth Fare and get us some supper- chicken soup and a quiche. I made it through one contraction without him, and it was horrible. He went to get the food, but I found that I wasn't as hungry as I had thought I was. I had a few bites of soup.
Finally, something popped during a contraction, and water spilled out. Yay! My water broke! Something dramatic and labor-ish! Our trip to the hospital was not in vain! New Daddy's long arms came in handy as he held me and reached to buzz the nurse's station and tell them the news. No one came to see the spill or to check on me. They must have been really busy. Contractions got closer and more intense- if such a thing was possible. "I don't remember my other labors being this bad, do you?" I asked him. I'm not sure what he replied. (I later realized that this was the self-doubt marker, AKA transition.)
New Daddy tried to call my mom and tell her that my water had broken and to bring the younger children on to the hospital. While he was on the phone with her, I started needing to push. The phone call ended abruptly as he hung up on her.
About three contractions after my water broke, New Daddy reached for the buzzer again. "I think she's trying to push!" Now, that got the midwife in there.
I was still standing up, and I couldn't move. They ordered New Daddy to put me on the bed, because it would obviously be a bad thing for Tater to be born vertically. New Daddy didn't want to, because he knew that it hurt me to push lying down. I guess I expected the midwife to get down on the floor to catch the baby. The nurse suggested, "Why don't you just lie down," because she could see that I was standing at the edge of the bed. New Daddy tilted (threw?) me, scooted me onto the bed, where I pushed twice and delivered Tater. It was 6:04, an hour earlier than I had predicted.
He came to me, and I made sure he was a boy. Then, we practiced nursing, which he took to very nicely. Mimi brought Precious to the room, since Precious didn't make it in time for the surprising delivery. Then, they weighed and measured him- 7 pounds, 0.2 ounces; 20.5 inches long. After that, he was taken to the nursery, but not to be stuck with needles or medicated with eye drops. I'm not sure what they did in there. I was taken to the postpartum room, where I devoured two slices of quiche- havarti and ham- for supper. I was hungry after all of that work, and it tasted so good-- no comparison to hospital food. I was pleased that I only had to eat two meals at the hospital on the following day.
It was fun (and a little sad that this wasn't the norm) to amaze the nurses by walking around as soon as I got to my room. Apparently, most women who just gave birth don't walk. I extolled the virtues of natural childbirth to them. I wasn't an invalid! I was free to walk around!
We left the hospital at exactly 24 hours after the birth, and we arrived home before 7 PM on Monday. Aunt Ma came back on Tuesday to help out, and she brought her awesome lens and captured some great shots of us with Tater. They're posted on my Picasa, and here are a few...
Here's how things happened.
On Saturday morning, I had signs that let me know that labor was imminent. By that evening, my mama had come down to stay with the kids in case we needed to go to the hospital during the night. I had some hard contractions, but nothing in a pattern. That was the mystery of this whole labor- no regular timing between contractions. I called Poppy and Mimi to let them know that I thought things were going to happen, but that I still wasn't sure. I read Cutie's birth story to gauge when Tater might arrive. It would definitely be by Monday.
I woke up Sunday morning at 4:30 with contractions that I couldn't sleep through. At 8:30, I called Poppy and Mimi again to update them; they had already left. I went about more nesting activities; the girls' room was finally cleared out and ready for the dresser that my dad would bring down when he came to meet Tater. I wiped down the master bathroom vanity and got rid of toothpaste splatters. Detail-oriented nesting, I tell you. Intermittent, strong contractions. I poured up a jar of raw milk and a jar of tangy beet kvass to take to the hospital and drink during labor. The kvass looked like wine. I decided that for the hospital, I'd keep the jars in New Daddy's lunch bag.
Sunday afternoon, New Daddy had settled down for a nap when I had a contraction that had felt like transition in my other labors. I woke him up and said, "Let's go." We brought Precious, who was going to be present for the birth, and arrived at the hospital around 2:00. Poppy and Mimi were just getting there also, and we waved at them on our way into the parking garage.
New Daddy wheeled me to the delivery area, where we were told that they didn't have a room. No, wait, she can have Room 5. Phew-- I got a room. We later realized that Sunday was a baby boom day at the hospital. My midwife came in with a nurse. I was at 3 cm, 90% effaced, minus 1 station. Not bad, but a woman who's had children before can walk around for weeks at a 3. I started to wonder if I'd come to the hospital too early. They hooked me up to the wireless monitors and waited about 10 minutes for a contraction. Nothing happened. I grinned sheepishly at the midwife as I admitted that I hadn't exactly been having "contractions five to seven minutes apart for at least an hour," as I had been instructed to before I showed up at the hospital. "They've been really strong, though!" Sheepish chuckle.
The midwife told me to get out of bed and start walking. I had been lazy all day (not counting the nesting I had done earlier), because when I had gotten up previously, I immediately had painful contractions. So I obeyed the midwife and started pacing the room. We played Ralph Vaughan Williams on the Kindle Fire. The one movement that I put on repeat turned out to be "My Bonny Boy." It made me smile when I paced by and read the title. I was going to meet my bonny boy in a little while! I looked at the clock and decided that he would probably be here by 7 PM if this really was the day.
I heard nothing from the midwife. I had been kneeling and squatting for contractions, but the pain was much worse than any of my other labors. After an hour and a half of irregular, but painful contractions, we called the midwife and asked her to see if I'd progressed. I was 4 cm, still at the minus 1-- almost no gain for all of that pain. Yuck.
After the midwife left, New Daddy put up his game of Doodle Jump, came over and hugged me, and it set off a contraction. I held onto him, because it was comforting. And I realized that hanging onto him was a good way to get through a contraction (and wasn't that one of the birthing positions I saw in a book somewhere?). That was what we did for the rest of the afternoon. New Daddy left me a few times, once to ask Mimi and Poppy to run to Earth Fare and get us some supper- chicken soup and a quiche. I made it through one contraction without him, and it was horrible. He went to get the food, but I found that I wasn't as hungry as I had thought I was. I had a few bites of soup.
Finally, something popped during a contraction, and water spilled out. Yay! My water broke! Something dramatic and labor-ish! Our trip to the hospital was not in vain! New Daddy's long arms came in handy as he held me and reached to buzz the nurse's station and tell them the news. No one came to see the spill or to check on me. They must have been really busy. Contractions got closer and more intense- if such a thing was possible. "I don't remember my other labors being this bad, do you?" I asked him. I'm not sure what he replied. (I later realized that this was the self-doubt marker, AKA transition.)
New Daddy tried to call my mom and tell her that my water had broken and to bring the younger children on to the hospital. While he was on the phone with her, I started needing to push. The phone call ended abruptly as he hung up on her.
About three contractions after my water broke, New Daddy reached for the buzzer again. "I think she's trying to push!" Now, that got the midwife in there.
I was still standing up, and I couldn't move. They ordered New Daddy to put me on the bed, because it would obviously be a bad thing for Tater to be born vertically. New Daddy didn't want to, because he knew that it hurt me to push lying down. I guess I expected the midwife to get down on the floor to catch the baby. The nurse suggested, "Why don't you just lie down," because she could see that I was standing at the edge of the bed. New Daddy tilted (threw?) me, scooted me onto the bed, where I pushed twice and delivered Tater. It was 6:04, an hour earlier than I had predicted.
He came to me, and I made sure he was a boy. Then, we practiced nursing, which he took to very nicely. Mimi brought Precious to the room, since Precious didn't make it in time for the surprising delivery. Then, they weighed and measured him- 7 pounds, 0.2 ounces; 20.5 inches long. After that, he was taken to the nursery, but not to be stuck with needles or medicated with eye drops. I'm not sure what they did in there. I was taken to the postpartum room, where I devoured two slices of quiche- havarti and ham- for supper. I was hungry after all of that work, and it tasted so good-- no comparison to hospital food. I was pleased that I only had to eat two meals at the hospital on the following day.
It was fun (and a little sad that this wasn't the norm) to amaze the nurses by walking around as soon as I got to my room. Apparently, most women who just gave birth don't walk. I extolled the virtues of natural childbirth to them. I wasn't an invalid! I was free to walk around!
We left the hospital at exactly 24 hours after the birth, and we arrived home before 7 PM on Monday. Aunt Ma came back on Tuesday to help out, and she brought her awesome lens and captured some great shots of us with Tater. They're posted on my Picasa, and here are a few...
long, flat feet
Four children!
Comments
My son JG is already 2 1/2 months old, but reading your story & seeing the pics sure brought the memories back! This was also the hardest labor & birth I had so far (my 3rd). Glad your hosp stay turned out as good as it did! I will be watching for more updates. :)
-Zoe.