Since she'll be a month old next week, I figured it was high time I shared with you her birth story. Especially since she is completely content right now sitting with me in her carrier. As long as I keep bouncing on this yoga ball.
Most of you know already that we were so ready weeks before she came. We tried many tricks to try and get labor going. Nick and I even walked at least 1-2 miles a day up until she came. People would tell us all these things to try because they worked for them, but honestly, she was going to come when SHE was ready to come. No amount of help was going to get her out.
Monday (the 9th) started with me having an idea to bake a labor cake. Yes. Labor cake. My cousin sent me a recipe for this super chocolately cake that supposedly can help start labor. I figured we were going to a friend's house that night so I wouldn't have to eat it all and, plus, why not try something just for fun?
Well, turns out you don't even have to eat this cake to start labor because as soon as we got into the car my water broke. And continued to flow for way too long. No one talks about how awkward it is when your water breaks. Sure, it's not like the big gush in movies, but it continues to leak for HOURS afterwards. Of course you wanted to know that, right?
We called the hospital and they said, since I wasn't having major contractions, that we should wait a little bit, eat some food, and then come check in. By the way, eating is incredibly difficult when you're anxious, excited, and nervous.
Long story short, we checked in to the hospital around 8:00 pm and hung out waiting for major contractions to happen because I was only 4 cm dilated and nothing big was happening.
We did a lot of walking around the halls, soaking in the tub, bouncing on the yoga ball, playing Words with Friends and Boggle, eating boring hospital snack foods, and watching stupid TV shows.
Around 7:00 the doctor came to check and I was only 5 cm. He said that if we didn't get things going we would need to think about inducing labor (pitocin) because my water broke and there was a higher risk of infection the longer I waited. I was not looking forward to this because I wanted to have an all-natural childbirth. So, we walked around outside with my mom and I actually got some more intense contractions. Unfortunately, they went away as soon as we got back to our room and rested.
At 12 we decided that it was probably a good idea to get induced because the contractions were getting weaker and weaker. Once it was in, though, the contractions were a million times worse. My mom and Nick gave some pretty wonderful massages, though. I don't think I'll ever get the same amount of massage time ever again. Around 6 or so (honestly time was kind of blurred together, so just go with me here) I was told to start pushing when I felt I needed to push. This is also when things started getting very real. I mean, I was cringing in pain and clutching onto my mom's and Nick's hands like no other.
The doctor and nurses couldn't figure out, though, why she wasn't further down than where she was. They thought her head may have been tilted a bit and that must have been why. I was told that I needed to try and push more during my contractions to try and get her head down.
The worst part of all of this? As they got stronger, I was told to change positions. It may not seem terrible, but when you are moaning in pain, the LAST thing you want to do is to move because moving means being uncomfortable for a little bit. I think I cried each time I was told to change positions. It sucked.
Around 9:00 or so my mom went to sit down on a chair in the room. Nick and I both assumed she just needed a break from the craziness of it all. Well, we look over and there she is waving her hand in front of her face and her eyes roll back. I immediately thought she was having a heart attack (worst possible scenario, right?) and Nick thought she was was having a seizure. Nick, the doctor, and the nurse run over to my mom to make sure she is okay. WHILE this is happening, I have a major contraction coming on and I'm supposed to PUSH! PUSH. Hah. I yell at Nick, who comes running over, and proceed to push while worrying like crazy about my mom. She gets taken out on a stretcher, we call my step-dad, and in the end we find out she just passed out because she had low blood sugar from not really eating. Nowhere near a heart attack or seizure.
After that whole ordeal the doctor tells me that if she doesn't get her head down more, he would need to use forceps to get her out (which would involve anesthesia) or we would need to possibly consider a c-section. This is where Nick said that I went into 'beast mode'. I pushed some more for about 10 minutes (probably less, but again, time is blurred) and what do ya know? She was a LOT further down. I just needed the threat of very uncomfortable things to get me going.
LOTS of incredibly uncomfortable pushing, crying, screaming, breathing, crying, saying "I can't do this", and writhing in pain, she was out. At one point they asked if I wanted to touch the head and I thought to myself "are you kidding?! I'm in pain!!". I didn't do it. I quickly yelled "no" and proceeded to end the whole process. She came out and they all mentioned her having football shoulders and her head was never in there the wrong way.
She came out a whopping 10 lbs. 6 oz. and 23 1/2 inches long. Nobody knew she was going to be that big. This is why I suggest to all future moms to bring 0-3 month clothes to the hospital JUST in case. You never know. Ellie didn't get to fit into ANY of her newborn clothes.
I was told afterwards that if she had been any bigger, she would have been too big for my body to handle and we probably would have had to get a c-section. I'm so grateful that she wasn't any bigger.
We are so blessed with this big bundle of cuteness.
We are so blessed with this big bundle of cuteness.