The Birth of Lucy Joan

At 34 weeks, we discovered I had Polyhydramnios (excess amniotic fluid).  Typically, it isn’t a major concern, but there are risks, and as with anything, when you know those risks, it can be worrisome.  So, from that point on in the pregnancy, I had a weekly ultrasound to check on the baby and my fluid level.  I didn’t mind that part at all!  My doctor originally was not going to let me go past the 39 week mark anyway, but once we discovered this, he moved it to the 38 week mark…just to try to prevent anything bad from happening during delivery.  So, the date was set for November 20^th.

There were definitely times I didn’t think I would make it to that date and sleepless nights with contractions and pains.  In fact, we went to Amarillo the evening before, and I had consistent
contractions the two hours there, but they stopped as we arrived.  So, November 20^th it would be!

For some reason, I was worried more about this labor and delivery more than my others.  Deep down, I knew I could handle it (after Henry’s birth experience), but it was the unknown that kept creeping up.  Would she turn before labor (she was posterior)?   Would any of the risks associated with Polyhydramniosis come to fruition?  Would I be able to have an unmedicated induction (for no other reason than to avoid the migraines I’ve had coming off the anesthesia before)?  All of it unknown, and again, for some reason, unsettling this time around.

After a restless night, we arrived at the hospital just a bit before my 7AM induction.  I knew I wanted to hold this sweet baby in my arms, but I didn’t want to wish the pregnancy or labor and delivery away.  As crazy as it sounds, I want those joyous moments in my heart forever, and the details of it all fade away from my memory much too quickly. 

I was put in a room and changed before my nurse arrived.  When she walked through the door, I breathed a huge sigh of relief.  I had a nurse I had wanted to have for years.  Seeing her in Church when in Amarillo, and knowing just by watching her, she was incredibly compassionate and gifted as a nurse, I smiled so big, and exclaimed, “I’ve always wanted to have you as a nurse!”  What a blessing she would prove to be!  She also had a student with her who was as sweet as they come.

We went through all of the questions, got an IV placed (first try – which is a record)!  She asked if I wanted an epidural.  I said I wanted to try to not have one but I was afraid I would.  She then smiled and said she needed pain meds when stubbing her toe, but if I wanted to go unmedicated, she could be my girl – “no pain, no gain” were her words.  She said there were two scheduled cesareans that morning - one at 8AM and one at noon.  So in those two hours, I wouldn't be able to get an epidural.  I then told her I was also worried about the baby being posterior, to which she replied, “They don’t call be Flip for nothing!”  I knew I was in good hands.

I started the morning at 3cm dilated and 50% effaced.  They got the Pitocin going, and my doctor came in to break my water at 9 AM.  After that I was 4 cm.  He left, and I could feel the contractions, but they were very bearable.  I sat upright in bed for a little over an hour, and progressed a centimeter. 

Angela came back in, bumped my Pitocin up to four and changed my position (laying on my left side with the “peanut ball”).  The contractions picked up a bit.  After another hour (I think), she upped the Pitocin to six, and fairly quickly, I felt the pain.

Right before noon, I texted my birth photographer (the amazing Lauren Hodges!) that the contractions were getting more intense, and then I really couldn’t text or talk much anymore.  She arrived soon after, and things picked up.  I was praying and focusing on breathing through each contraction when I saw Jeremy sitting down, looking like he was in more pain than me (he’s always has a hard time watching me in labor and feeling helpless).  They turned the Pitocin off.  I closed my eyes and asked Mary to be a mother to me as I offered up each contraction.

I kept feeling pressure with each contraction, but I thought there surely was not any way I could be that far along.  The pain was intense, and my back was still hurting between contractions.  In my mind, I thought, “I can’t do this.”  And, I knew that could mean I was close, but I also didn’t believe I was close enough. 

Angela came to check me around 12:30, and I was eight cm.  She was asking me if I could handle the pain, and instead of answering, I started crying (it’s my “go-to” emotion…when I’m hurting, sad, mad, worried, etc).  Chloe, the student, reached out with a tissue and dried my tears (what compassion!)  Angela then asked if I wanted Fentanyl.  I didn’t know.  But it was in the noon hour, and the epidural was no longer an option.  It was now or never.  I said yes, thinking the pain would go away.  It didn’t.  Instead, it felt like I was in a tunnel and couldn’t hear anyone clearly for a couple of minutes, and then life was back to normal.

She checked again, and I was complete, so she called my doctor, and we waited.  I started pushing at 1PM.  I’ve never pushed more than maybe two rounds of contractions.  But, this time was different. 

I was pushing but nothing seemed to be happening.  I got frustrated with myself, and I think I apologized to everyone in the room about fifty times.  After a little pep talk from Angela, things picked up.  They drained my bladder to make a bit more room, and after a few more pushes, I felt that ring of fire as she came into the world (that didn’t happen with Henry). 

My amazing doctor and nurse placed her on my chest, and I thanked God for a happy, healthy baby with a quick, safe delivery.

Jeremy was right by my side throughout the process, and he was such a rock for me as I felt discouraged, and as I recovered.

Lucy Joan Fisk arrived at 1:13 PM, weighing 8lb, 10 oz. and measuring 20 inches long.  She is named after two heroic saints and a very close friend.  As Jeremy and I decided on her name, we knew she would need to be a light for this darkened world (Lucy means light), and she would need the strength of Joan to do so. 

As always, this new little one brings an instant new love like no other to our family, and we are so incredibly thankful for her life. 

Birth Story: Henry Joseph

Well, this is going to be a long one...you've been warned.

And, a little of the backstory must be told first. I am a lover of birth stories.  I know a lot of people are, and I've read a lot of the stories from my blogging friends, many of whom have unmedicated births.  I have had five inductions, all with an epidural and swore I had no interest in doing it any other way.  But, I bought a couple of books on natural birth, just for fun, and I didn't tell anyone (minus a few friends whose experiences I asked about) but my husband and a couple family members (mainly half-heartedly telling them I just was curious).  I didn't tell anyone because I did not know if I could do it, or if I really wanted to, even though millions have done it before me.

I also love to be fully prepared for something.  So, the planning that comes with an induction is right up my alley.  Knowing I didn't want to have a baby on the way to the hospital, I didn't want to let go of the induction.  So, I then sought out friends who had unmedicated births with inductions, and I found a few.  Finally, I just had this thought in the back of my mind that if I could get though it, I could offer it up as a sacrifice for those needing prayers.

So...on to Thursday morning.  I had an induction scheduled for January 17th.  On January 9th, at my last appointment, I was dilated to 2cm and was 50% effaced.  I've never gone earlier than my scheduled 39-week induction, so I wasn't too concerned about doing so this time.  Well, I started to have some pain in the evenings and couldn't sleep very well Monday and Tuesday night.  Wednesday night about 11ish, I started having contractions.  They were not unbearable, but they definitely were not Braxton-Hicks either.  I finally just got up, did laundry, wrote a couple blog posts, and did whatever I could to busy myself because I wasn't getting any rest laying down anyway.  Jeremy woke up around 5 am and I told him but didn't know if we needed to make a two hour drive to the hospital. Then, I started bleeding.  And, it scared me.  My contractions were also about six minutes apart.  So, we called my mom to come be with the kids, and we headed in (Thursday morning at this point).

On the way to the hospital the contractions got much father apart but increased in intensity.  When we arrived at the hospital, there wasn't much to them.  BUT, I kept thinking to myself, "I came in for a reason - I'm really not just being a wimp."  I was at 2cm and 70% effaced.  But, there were also some other factors to consider.  An ice storm was forecasted for the weekend.  It was a two hour drive from home.  I was almost at the 39-week mark, and well, this was my sixth baby.  Thur nurse said the contractions weren't that intense (at the time, they weren't, but the ones that made me decide to come in were) and to come back if I had an hour of contractions  5-7 minutes apart.  Then, in a miscommunication between my doctor and the nurse, I was sent home.  Note: I could have/should have stayed in Amarillo with my inlaws just to be safe, but I was a bit embarrassed and just wanted to be at my own home.

I didn't even make it out of the hospital without tears streaming down my face.  I was humiliated and felt defeated.  Later that day I told my mom and sister I was afraid one of two things would happen: 1) I would either go back to the hospital and be sent home again or 2) I'd end up having the baby at home because I would be too "afraid" of having a repeat of the morning...waiting too long to make the call to go.

Well, the contractions never went away.  Mid-day they were 15-20 minutes apart.  And, I tried to take an afternoon nap with the kids, seeing if they'd taper off.  A friend suggested a hot shower to see what would happen, too.  Nothing made them go away.  They were painful but not unbearable, but the strange thing to me was that the pain was in my back.  Sure, there was an area of my stomach that felt each contraction, but the pain was never fully in the front, so I kept doubting if the contractions were really doing anything.  I think I googled prodromal labor fifteen times.  Again though, my bleeding only increased, and it is what kept me thinking that something was going on.

After diner Thursday night, I let Jeremy get the kids to bed, and I opted for a bath, hoping to relax a bit.  Well, at around 9:30, I was hurting more than I had, and I told Jeremy that I was going to try to get into the bath again and go for an hour, timing contractions and seeing what happened.  By the end of the bath, the bath was no longer making me feel better.  Jeremy had also gone to bed.

So 10:30ish, they were coming every eight minutes or so, lasting about a minute and 15 seconds. Pretty quickly I was no longer comfortable at all.  My back was constantly aching.  I tried every position I could think of...sitting, laying down, in the bath, on all fours, standing, leaning against a wall, you name it.  I didn't want to wake Jeremy if I didn't need to.  After an hour or so more, and at a point where when I was having contractions I couldn't even move (like it was as if I was paralyzed - like my mind wasn't working with my body), I started sobbing.  I had no idea what to do, and the contractions were 5ish minutes apart, and well...I texted my mom at 12:15 am (but I knew she had to be sleeping). I just had to tell someone that I was in a lot of pain but felt so unsure of things.

Then, I woke Jeremy up around 12:30.  Still sobbing, I told him I didn't know what to do.  Then he proceeded to sweetly ask me questions and I started another contraction and just yelled that I couldn't talk.  Thankfully he called my mom.

By the time she arrived, we loaded the car, and they basically had to put me in the car.  I was having trouble walking.  It felt like my lower back was breaking.  We had a two hour drive ahead.  I told myself all I needed was some pain relief for my back and I'd be just fine, so I really just wanted to stop at a hospital along the way.  Jeremy brought me to my senses...saying it would take so long to fill out the paperwork before any meds were given, we might as well keep driving.  All I could do was calculate the minutes.  It was 2 hours.  I was having contractions every 4-5 minutes, and they were lasting 1.5 minutes each.  In my mind, I just needed to make it through about 25-30 contractions.  At that point, it became the longest trip ever.  I'm guessing we started our drive a little before 1 am.

Back to the natural childbirth books.  I told myself if there were two things I was not doing, it was moaning and screaming.

Well, at this point, I could barely breathe through them, and nothing was helping.  I was trying so hard to relax every muscle in my body (what my friends told me to focus on), but I have a hard time doing that on a normal day.  I also tried to make my exhales last as long as they could.  I tried to pray. I tried to offer each contraction for different friends' intentions.  Nothing took my mind away like I had hoped.  I just kept thinking, "If I can make it to 50 seconds, I can get over the peak of this."  I had to start focusing on only getting through one, and I was anything but relaxed.  Plus, I started making a little noise (never say never).

Jeremy was white-knuckled and driving as fast as was safe, saying not a word.  Come to find out, at one point he looked over, and he thought I had passed out.  He was so scared, but was also so scared to touch me to see if I truly was.  Bless his heart.

About an hour into the drive, the contractions upped to about 1 minute 45 seconds each, every three minutes.  So, essentially I had a minute of rest between each one, and my back was in constant pain. Forty-five minutes from the hospital, I felt more pressure.  With each tensing up, I could feel something just wasn't quite right, but I made that thought go away.  I couldn't have the baby on the road.

I prayed and prayed for a break...for just a ten minute stretch before I got to the hospital. Instead, about ten minutes out, I had an eight minute contraction (all I could think was that my friend had recently reminded me that during transition, she had three contractions right on top of the other, and then the baby was out).  Well, I was still second guessing that all of this was working to get the baby down, because unlike what I had read in the books, I didn't feel like the contractions were moving my boy down.  I just felt like they were breaking my back.

We got to the hospital!  I couldn't get out.  The main doors were locked.  We headed to the ER. Jeremy got me a wheel chair.  On our way to the third floor, he accidentally almost shot me out of the chair three times.  Ha!  Not funny at the time.  We arrived at the nurses station, and one suggested I head to triage.  The other took one look and said, "No, she needs a room."

Jeremy left to go move our car from the ambulance entrance.  They handed me a gown.  I just started stripping in the middle of the room.  Wide-eyed, they suggested that I go into the bathroom to change and empty my bladder.  All I could think about was getting relief for my back.

I got into the bathroom, sat down and felt I might need to go to the bathroom.  I also knew that feeling might mean something else.  I knew that I was blessed in never having more than 2-3 pushes before the baby was out.  So, in a split second, I pushed just to see, and out came the baby's head.  I yelled for help.  Four nurses ran in and told me to stand up.  I couldn't.  They helped me up, and out he came within seconds.  I was told not to deliver the placenta yet, though.  So, there I was, back sitting on a toilet, surrounded by four nurses holding my still-attached baby, a floor of blood-soaked clothes, and relief.  So much relief.

So, it happened.  An unmedicated birth.  Just like millions before me.  It wasn't how I pictured it happening, but rarely is it.  And, we have this beautiful baby boy in our arms now, with many sets of hands waiting to love on him, too.  I was able to offer up a lot for those whose prayers need answering, and I was able to experience birth in a different way this time around.  If there is another time, some day, I don't know how it will happen.  But, this one happened just as it should...even if a bit unnerving on more than one level.

Welcome, sweet Henry.  We adore you.

Henry Joseph

3:45 am*

8 lb. 12 oz.

19.5 in.

As the family came to meet him a few hours later, his Mimi and Pops were adoring him, and from nowhere, the song, "The Prayer" came on from her phone in her pocket.  A loving reminder that we were now holding what we had prayed for!

*approximately two hours from when we left home because of a time change

Birth Story: Genevieve

On November 12^th, I had my 37 week appointment.  Since I live so far from the doctor, He told me to skip the 36 week appointment, and he’d see my at 37 weeks.  So, at that appointment, we did a growth scan to determine what we might be looking at in terms of the size of the baby.  During that scan, everything with the baby turned out great, but my fluid levels were high.  I remember the fluid levels being a bit high with Sophie at some point in my pregnancy with her, but it never seemed to greatly concern my previous doctor.  Well, my new doctor seemed a bit more concerned than my old doctor had been.  He said that those levels could mean nothing OR they could pose a few risks…infection or the cord delivering before the baby and cutting off the oxygen supply.  He wanted to check back in a week and decide what to do from there.

So, five days later we had another appointment scheduled.  The day before, a blizzard hit.  So, we got everything packed and ready, in the event that we’d have to deliver early, and braved the icy roads with everyone in order to get to Amarillo.  They closed the roads behind us, if that tells you anything about their condition.  It turns out it was a good thing we made it to Amarillo.  In five days, my fluid levels went from 25 to 32.  I became a bit more worried than I had been before, and let Dr. Hopkins know that I was afraid to go into labor at home, two hours away, in the event that one of those risks came to fruition.  He was concerned, too, and scheduled the induction for the next day, Thursday, November 19^th.

We stayed the night with Jeremy’s parents and were at the hospital the next morning by 7 to start things.  I started at a two and probably about 40% effaced, being a week earlier than my previous inductions.  But, since I had been at nothing when I was induced with Carter, I didn’t think it would make much difference.  It always is a bit tough to get things going because I’m really hard to get an IV in.  Luckily this time it only took three tries, as opposed to the seven or eight typically.  It’s always the worst part.  Then, right away, the doctor broke my water, forcing the baby down as he did in order to insure the head would come before the cord.  Once that was done, I started the Pitocin and waited.

And, I waited.

By noon, the contractions were getting a bit painful but not bad.  By 12:30, I was at a five.  Knowing my past history (when I get to a 6, the baby has always been here within thirty minutes), I decided to get the epidural before it was too late.  Little did I know, I had plenty of time.

The epidural didn’t go quite like it had in previous years either.  I’m not sure the doctor waited long enough for the numbing shot to take effect, but I could feel every part of it, as he threaded it and all…kind of gives me the chills to think about again.  Then, it kicked in, heavily and quickly, and my already super low blood pressure dropped, and I almost passed out.  Instead, I just felt nauseated for the remainder of labor.

I thought things would pick up quickly.  But, I was wrong.

I bet I sat at a five for another three to four hours.  To add to the no progress, the baby was having trouble.  I could only be in one position to keep the baby’s heart rate up, and that position was sitting straight up. 

After watching the baby’s heart rate drop with every contraction, the nurses came in to check me.

Still a five.

They said they’d give it another hour, with an internal contraction monitor, and then they might have to think about going another route – cesarean.  If it was the only way to keep us both safe, I would have done it.  But, I didn’t want to.

An hour later, I was at a seven, and things picked up!  But, there was one problem.  The right side of my cervix had quit thinning.

I was quickly at a ten, but the cervix wasn’t completely thinned on that right side still, and the baby’s heart rate was dropping – plus they put me on oxygen.  The doctor came in to see what happened during a contraction but then quickly changed his mind saying we just had to get the baby out. 

I was scared.  I didn’t know what was going on.  And, while it could have been so much worse than it was, I started worrying.  Why had this labor (my fifth!) gone so differently/taken longer?  Why wasn’t everything just falling into place?  Was this little one okay?

I pushed and the head came with the cord wrapped around the baby’s neck.  So the doctor quickly pulled the cord around the baby’s head, and helped pull the baby out with the next contraction to get her breathing.  She was bruised up a bit, and it was a very quick and forceful delivery, but she was finally here and safe. 

Sadly, I was so caught up in what might be happening and worried that she might not be okay, that I don’t think I was able to fully be present for the gender surprise!  We had another little girl…a sister that I longer for for Sophie!! 

In those moments, when the doctor/nurses put that baby safely in your arms, the flood of emotions is indescribable, and at the top of my list that day was gratitude for a doctor who knew enough to induce early and help get her out quickly and safely. 

It won’t matter how many times I give birth, each time I’m overwhelmed by the amount of love I have for that tiny baby completely dependent upon us. 

Welcome to the world, Genevieve Mary Rose!

(in almost all of her ultrasound pics, she was just like this)

*Jeremy and John Paul were very present, but Jeremy was behind the camera, and John Paul was all over the place, so hopefully I'll be able to update with more photos once I see what is on my mom's camera!