Parker meets Care-O-Wine

Birth Story Part 3

If you missed part 1 click here and if you missed part 2 click here!

Chris finally managed to calm me down enough to where I was breathing normally again and I just closed my eyes and hated the world and argued with God until Doctor Tate showed up.  I wish I knew the time he came - but I think it was around 7:30.  I just kept my eyes closed while he checked me again (all this "checking" by the way is REALLY painful!  I was NOT prepared for the intense pain that came along with just "checking".  "Checking" sounds so normal and pain-free... they need to change this term to something more like, "Someone completely violating you by putting their entire hand in your body and squirming it around for what feels like til the end of time, maybe tugging on a rib or two and moving your entire insides around in your body and just coming up with a number for the fun of it."  SO - I close my eyes and wait to hear the news that I am a "failure to progress patient" and that they would be prepping my operating room  right away.

I heard him say it.  And I couldn't believe it.  I opened my eyes thinking I was SURELY in a dream and the Nubain was still working its way out of my system.  I asked him, "What?" and he said it again.  I was right at the cusp of 8 cm.  I was shocked.  I wish I could describe in words how I felt but I'm afraid it's impossible.  I had progressed!  I HAD PROGRESSED!  Who ever said being honest with God was a bad idea is crazy... I mean - he knew what I was feeling anyway... but I of course made amends with Him and gave him ALL the praise and glory for allowing me to progress!

After having a mini celebration with Chris, my mom and Jessica (who had come back after work to be with me) I started getting "real" and told him I was ready for my epidural.  Doctor Tate just sort of looked at me like I was crazy.  "Now?!?!?!" is what I heard him say.  "After going through more than 24 hours of labor on your own with minimal drugs and NO epidural?"  I gave him a blank stare, like, UM, YES!  DUH!  I told him I was deathly afraid of pushing a baby out with no drugs and I was not really prepared to do it drug free.  He had already told me about the advantages of the paracervical block in his office a few weeks before, and I had researched it quite a bit, but the one thing that kept hearing over and over in my head is "the block can wear off after 30 minutes or so and you are not guaranteed to have any pain relief during pushing."  Okay - next cue for panic attack.  I kept looking at Chris with as big of eyes as I could manage - pleading with him to back me up on this.  Chris got the hint and took over to argue my case for an epidural.  The "argument" lasted about 20 minutes... I guess I should just say it was an argument in MY head.  Tate was completely calm and cool during the entire conversation and he did keep saying, "I WILL give you an epidural, Hillary, if that's what you really want, BUT.... blah blah blah..."  I remember thinking, "Ok - I'll hold off on the epidural..." then right about that time I got another really intense contraction and I look at Tate in the eyes said I wanted my epidural NOW.  When he explained that I first needed 2 bags of fluids in me, and the anesthesiologist was in a surgery right now so it would be up to an hour before I could get it... I decided to give the paracervical block another thought or two.  Tate just couldn't believe that I would want to go through the craziness of an epidural when I had lasted ALL day without it.  He said that he thought my goal in this entire labor was to go as drug free as possible.  Chris quickly informed him that our ONE and MAIN goal (besides having a healthy baby and mommy) was to have this baby vaginally.  And the reason I had declined the epidural all day was because I was afraid it would slow things down and I wouldn't progress.  He kept saying that he really just couldn't believe that I would want an epidural when I was literally minutes away from possibly meeting this baby.  I closed my eyes and prayed... prayed hard... and the words of my good friend Chelsea rang through my head.  Chels had her baby a few weeks prior (with an epidural) but assured me that pushing was the most amazing feeling and that she wanted to push babies out for a living.  I also thought about my friend Kristin who had had her baby one month before.  She had a 100% drug free labor in her home and she ended up pushing for more than four hours in every position possible to have her 9 pound baby, Tanner.  After about 20 minutes of "arguing" with Doctor Tate, and about my 10th desperate prayer to my Heavenly Father, I honestly just got a sudden peace about it.  I told Tate that I would try his paracervical block, but I wanted to go ahead and be hooked up to fluids in case I ended up not progressing any further and I had time to get an epidural.  I also wanted some instant relief which would come with the paracervical block - at least a little relief... obviously not as much that would come with an epidural.  Within a few minutes, he had given me the block and he also broke my water.  He was worried that since I had been in labor for so long that my uterus would start to tire - especially at the site of my c-section incision - so even though he is NOT a fan of breaking water on patients - he was more concerned with making sure I could have this baby vaginally.  So he made my water break - but not as much water as I thought would come out did but I hopped off of the bed as quickly as possible to start working my butt off to move the baby down a bit further.  Chris' mom and dad showed up as soon as I got off of the bed and they sat with us and chatted for a few minutes. By this point, I wanted all the distractions I could get... the more company the merrier!  I could still feel my contractions, there was no doubt about it, and each one started to get more and more intense.  I was bouncing my booty off on the exercise ball, and I think I did a few deep squats as well.  Well, the contractions were closer and closer together... within a few minutes of each other... and I started to feel like I was losing my breath in between each one.  I wasn't able to get the 3-4 minutes of rest I had so heavily relied on for the past 24 hours to get ready for the next 60 second contraction.  Each one got more and more intense and with one I actually felt pressure and the need to push the biggest poop I could ever imagine out.  I kept that feeling to myself at the time... then the next one came on right after it.  Again - I felt pressure and a major poop needing to escape.  After the contraction was over, I opened my eyes and looked right at Chris and told him I needed to poop.  He sort of smiled and said to wait for the next one to see if I felt it again.  Well, before he could even finish his sentence and I could tell him that I had already felt the urge with 2 contractions before it, the next contraction was on and it was stronger than the one before.  And then I felt it.  The baby dropped.  Low.  And I mean L-O-W.  And I felt like I was peeing all over myself.  Well guess what - I looked down and there was a cascading waterfall of clear fluid gushing down the exercise ball.  I frantically grabbed Chris' hand and announced to the room that water was gushing out of me.  Poor Mr. Hull.  Chris' dad was sitting right across from me enjoying the conversation that I had excused myself from about 3 minutes before when the poop feeling started to come along.  He held the straightest face I have ever seen, stood up and before I even finished my sentence about water coming out of me, he was OUT the door.  Then I heard Chris' sweet mom's voice, "Well, Hillary, who do you want in the room?"  To be honest, I had thought about this a lot in previous weeks.  I had considered allowing my mom and Chris' mom in the room with us, but for some reason the first thing that left my mouth was, "CHRIS!!!!!!"  The next thing I knew, my mom, Jess and Chris' mom had left and Chris had called the nurse to come in.  She called Doc T in right away and he meandered on in - still fully suited up in his dress shirt and tie - hands in his pockets - just as calm and collected as can be.  He started talking about how he was watching Criminal Minds and what a great show it was when I interrupted him and told him I had water gushing out of me.  He asked if I wanted to be checked.  Um.  YES!  NOW!  So he calmly tells me to hop up on the bed.  He sits next to me and grabs my foot and gently places it up on his chest.  He told Chris to go to the other side of the bed and put my other leg up on his chest as well.  My knees are up by my ears right now... How's that visual?  He checks me and the baby is RIGHT there.  READY to come out.  OK - start panic attack numero dos.  I could feel EVERYTHING.  I was about to have this baby - and I was going to feel everything.  After 30 seconds of an inner panic attack, I felt an even more strong poop contraction come along and knew that I had to get that "poop" out of me as soon as possible.  Doctor Tate looked at Chris and then at me and explained how I needed to start pushing and how he wanted me to do it.  Chris' face got sort of white and he asked, "Um - push what out?  A baby?"  I wanted to absolutely kick Chris in the head.  I won't even begin to say the words that came into my head of what I wanted to say after he said that.  I know I somehow refrained from saying them out loud - probably because I couldn't talk anymore - but I will assure you that about 50 words that I NEVER say out loud were going through my head faster than you can say the first 4 letter word that comes to your mind.  Tate told me he wanted me to just give a few good pushes to get the head fully engaged.  The baby had also completely turned sunny side up (hence the back labor I had been experiencing whenever lying on my back in bed that day) and he needed to try to turn the baby as soon as possible so that "it" could move down to the right position to push.  Well, two pushes later, the baby completely cork screwed down and was in the absolute perfect position to come out of me.  Tate said that I was ready and I closed my eyes and the next thing I knew, 5 residents were surrounding me, a nurse was taking my fluids out since I obviously wouldn't be getting an epidural now (FREAKING OUT NOW), and Tate was telling me exactly what I needed to do to push this baby out.  I kept repeating his instructions in my head.   "Pull my thighs into my forehead, Try to touch my chin to my chest, DON'T push Tate and Chris away with my feet which were both perched up on their chests, and push RIGHT where one of the residents had her fingers (um - right where I was feeling the urge to POO!)"  My mind was in complete shock.  This baby was about to be here.  This baby - who up to this point had no name, no gender associated with it, was about to be in my arms.  I just remember praying non stop.  With the next contraction, I started pushing.  And HOLY MOLY - I have no idea if I thought about Chelsea in that moment, but good grief - that girl is crazy if she wants to push babies out for a living.  It's a GOOD thing my contractions were one after another because if I had had time to re-think this whole thing I would have DEMANDED an epidural.  I have NEVER squeezed so hard in my life - I could actually feel my eyeballs popping out of my head (I had a nice popped blood vessel in my left eye for 3 weeks to prove it.)  After about 10 minutes and 5-6 good pushes, I heard Tate say, "Wow - look at all that hair!"  Then I heard all 5 of the residents exclaim the SAME exactly thing... "Holy crap - look at that hair!"  "Oh my goodness - all that hair - there's so much!"  Etc Etc Etc Etc......  Chris then whispered in my ear, "Babe - that's the most hair I've ever seen on any baby in my entire life."  I never opened my eyes, but very politely (OK maybe not at all) explained to the million people in the room that I was NOT interested in how much hair this child had, but I was exhausted and I needed them to tell me when to push next because I was absolutely unable to think clearly enough to know when to do so.  (I think that thought actually came out as - "SHUT UP AND TELL ME WHEN TO 'FRIGGIN' PUSH!")  I think they all go the point because within a few seconds they were all cheering me on to push.  The idiot resident to my right was about to get knocked to the ground because she was the designated "counter".  Well - let me tell you - I have no idea how she was counting in reality - but at that point in time, she was counting as slow as absolutely possible.  Like - it was taking her about 10 seconds alone just to say the word, "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEE."  I literally never made it to the number 10.  Ever.  I think the farthest I ever made it one time was 7 - and the rest of the times I made it to number 5.  After 2-3 pushes of getting her head somewhat out, I would run out of breath and she would go right back inside me.  I heard Tate start to order me to pull my legs in closer to my ears (yes - my knees were basically touching my ears) and to lift my chin down as far as possible and to try not to scream so loud because if I could use the energy I was giving to scream through the pushes, I would have a little more energy to put towards the push.  Well - it happened and I felt her head ALMOST leave my body - then I gave up again - and she went back in.  I started to think this baby was NEVER going to leave my body.  I sort of wanted to give up and ask if we could forget this whole labor thing and I could just go back to being pregnant for a little bit longer.  Tate seemed pleased with my progression in pushes and told me to open my eyes and look at him.  THIS was the LAST thing I wanted to do.  First, I did NOT want to see what was going on down there and I also did NOT want to see all the faces looking down on me and the bright lights from the cieling shining down on all my "glory".  After a few requests (that got more demanding than the one before), Tate got my eyes open and he told me that with the next push, he wanted me to push exactly like the one I had just given, but when he told me to STOP, he wanted me to pant really heavily to slow the push down because he didn't want the baby to come out too fast.  Before he could finish this sentence the next contraction was here and I did as I was told... except I heard him say "stop" but I did NOT want to!  After I heard him scream STOP for the third time, I did as I was told, but also felt possibly the worst feeling any woman can imagine feeling.  Yeah.  I felt it all.  I felt myself tear.  I'll stop there because the next contraction was here already it was time to REALLY push the rest of the baby out.  I think it took me 2 more pushes to get the shoulder blades out, then the rest of the body.  THAT was the most amazing feeling ever.  The doctor let Chris announce the sex and I heard him say, "Um.... it's.... aaaaa...." then I heard silence.  My eyes were still closed.  I was waiting for it.  Then I heard him say... "Um... it's.  It's.  It's.  A.  GIRL????  Hillary - it's a girl!  We have a little girl!  It's a girl!"  I remember just lying there - thinking - SERIOUSLY?!  I was in shock - complete shock.  I could NOT believe it was a girl!  They immediately laid her down on my chest and left the cord attached.  We laid there - still a part of one another.  I immediately tried to get her to breastfeed, but I could tell something was a little off - she wasn't really able to breathe really well.  Her color was amazing so I wasn't too concerned, but she still wasn't "right".  I still held on to her for about 3 minutes.  I remember Chris taking my picture but I was SO in shock and SO in awe of this precious baby, I couldn't take my eyes off of her.  (Also didn't think to cover up my breast so that Chris could take a picture of us I could actually show people.  Oh well.) They clamped her cord and handed the scissors to Chris to cut it and he jumped right in to take advantage of that moment.  (Something he had said a few days earlier he wasn't really interested in doing!  Ha!)  They took her away and ended up having to use a little suction vacuum to get all the "birth stuff" out of her nose and mouth to which she IMMEDIATELY was breathing better and let us ALL know it by screaming the ABSOLUTE loudest cry I've ever heard.  Even Doctor Tate said a comment on the volume of her cry!

Little did I know, my mom and Chris' mom were just outside the delivery room popping some popcorn in the microwave and they heard the cry and they, of course, started FREAKING out!  Too bad they didn't realize it would be another hour before Chris could leave my side to come tell them the "news"!  Anyway, back INSIDE the delivery room... I was completely DONE.  I have to be honest, I had been looking SO forward to those few moments with the baby on my chest for so long... and it wasn't really all that I thought it would be.  I think I was just in so much pain and so totally exhausted, and TOTALLY in shock that it was a GIRL, that my mind just couldn't mentally grasp what was happening.  After they took her away and she started crying, I turned my attention back to all the people standing over me and I heard my doctor tell me it was time to deliver the placenta.  I thought, OK - take it on out Doc!   Be my guest! Then I pretty much wanted to punch him in the nose when he told me I had to push.  AGAIN.  I THOUGHT I WAS DONE PUSHING HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I knew I didn't have to push very hard, but he was telling me I still had to push a little!  And I didn't want to even do that!  I drew in a deep breath and pushed one last measly push and out came the biggest glob of glub I've ever seen.  I reminded the doctor about the fact that he had at one time in my pregnancy thought I may have a separate piece of placenta in there.  He said he was about to double check and I wanted to punch myself in the nose for reminding him.  It felt like he reached up to my rib cage and yanked on my heart a few times then decided I definitely didn't have any other separate placentas.  OK - THAT was painful.  But it was over... the painful part was over, right?  Then - I heard him start talking about the stitching.  I wasn't too worried about it - no one ever talks about the stitching being too painful.  Well.  Yeah.  Most people have FREAKING EPIDURALS during the stitching part.  Guess who didn't?  Yeah - that would me.  The big dummy.  I HONESTLY can say that the stitching was just about equal to pushing the baby out painful.  Doctor Tate was allowing a resident to do the stitching and he was telling her exactly where and what to do - but it was taking her FOREVER.  I NEVER thought it was going to end.  Chris kept bringing me cold wash cloths to help keep me cool and to help with the pain  and help keep my mind off of it but I could not stop screaming at the pain.  Doc T insisted he was inserting local anesthetic and I shouldn't be feeling it as much as I was claiming BUT.  I.  FELT.  EVERYTHING.  I felt EVERY single time the needle came in and out and I felt EVERY single pull of the thread.  I.  WANTED.  TO.  DIE.  That was SO incredibly painful - I can't even tell you.  After about 45 minutes of stitching, it was done.

It was done.

Finally.

They cleaned me all up and handed me my precious baby GIRL back in my arms.

The nurse cleaning out her air passageways while I was being stitched.

 Tate teaching a few of the remaining residents in the labor and delivery room how to stitch... Something I will definitely request that Tate do himself with my next labor...

This is when she let us all hear her beautiful cry.

 Caroline's and my first picture together!  This was taken after I was stitched and cleaned up - but before we left the delivery room.

 Me and my fabulous Dr. Tate!

I just remember praising God for this healthy miracle in my arms.  I was moved to tears, praying that every woman who wanted to could experience this one day... the feeling is perfect and wonderful.  And I LOVED the fact that God created this little girl in my body.  And that my body nourished it for 40 weeks.  And that my body knew exactly when to start pushing it out.  I didn't need any medicine to help things along.  I didn't TELL my body when to start having contractions.  It just did.  The entire process was AMAZING.  I thought about the entire day I had just experienced and I couldn't think of one thing I'd change.  God had blessed me with the ability to push a baby out - naturally.  Maybe a little more naturally than I had planned, but it was perfect.  I loved the fact that my doctor patiently waited all night and all day to allow my body to labor exactly how it was supposed to.  As I thought about all of this, Chris came back over to me and I looked at her, then back up at him and said, I think this is Caroline Grace.  He smiled at me then said, "Hi Caroline Grace.."  I knew it at the moment that that was her name - no doubt.  She was here.  And she was perfect.  And she did have a BUNCH of hair!  I couldn't get over how much more pretty she was than Parker!  Parker looked like he had come out of a boxing match after my surgery... Caroline looked like a perfect little princess.  And her eyes - oh my goodness - her eyes - were ABSOLUTELY beautiful.  They were Chris' eyes - through and through - and I loved that.  They were dark and absolutely wonderful.

 In my wheelchair - on my way to our hospital room!  Look at how absolutely perfect she is.  What a miracle.

I took this while laying in bed after they came in and gave her her first bath in our room... I just laid in bed pretty much all night staring at her beautiful face - trying to get over the fact that we had a GIRL!

Here are a few pictures from the rest of our stay at the hospital... which was as SHORT as possibly possible because Emory is NOT Northside and maybe a little scary.  There was actually a FIGHT that broke out in the waiting room outside where we were!  Emory was the only "downside" to this entire process.

Jess came to visit us both mornings we were there!

Yeah - this is the look of a mommy on Percoset....

Chris was on diaper changing duty since the thought of getting out of bed for anything except going to the bathroom was NOT happening for me.  So - my recovery was pretty horrible.  I had NO idea I'd be in THAT much pain!  I still stand by my word that it's NOTHING compared to a c-section pain - but it is still NO walk in the park for sure!

We allowed Parker to announce to the family the next morning after Caroline's birth, the name of our sweet baby girl!  My mom was there, both of Chris' parents, and my sister, Whitney was there, too.  I have video of it - will post in another blog - maybe tomorrow.... For now - here are a few cute pictures... My definition of love is spelled out in these pictures... I had no idea I could love this much.

Birth Story Part 2

If you missed Part 1 - click HERE to read it first!

I felt myself fading... I knew I was reaching a low point.  (This was actually a few minutes before my mom showed up.)  I was getting hungry and cranky, but still didn't want to get an epidural yet.  I felt like I could handle the contractions on my own for a bit longer but because lying down on the bed was the absolute most painful position I could be in, finding a way to sleep for a bit was NOT going to be easy.  So, we called the nurse in and after she talked to Dr Tate, she recommended Nubain which would just help me to relax for a bit.  Well, she put it into my heplock and within 30 seconds I was completely relaxed and although not fully asleep, I was definitely relaxed and was taking full advantage of it.  I heard my mom come in, but I didn't have the energy to open my eyes to say hello.  About 45 minutes after my "happy drug" entered my body, it was gone just as quick.  I felt my contractions jump back into full swing and I jumped up just as quickly and hopped back on my exercise ball for some bouncy time.  I called Kristin to ask for some pointers on what exercises I could do to move the baby down more and she had about 30 seconds before my next contraction came along and I think I either hung up on her or said a quick "goodbye and I love you" (I'm hoping I ended the conversation this way... but I honestly can't remember).

Back on my birthing ball!  I was ready to tackle this labor!

 Right after I took this picture of myself, I turned my phone around and took a picture of my poor husband.  This guy was exhausted.  The delivery room had NOwhere for your "coach" to get some shut eye - well - at least not a 6 foot 4,  200++ pound coach!  I think he was afraid to ask if he could hop on my bed all morning, but when I finally assured him I was good to go on the birthing ball for a bit, he practically collapsed in the bed and slept for about an hour or so. 

I'll also take a moment to just say how INCREDIBLE Chris was during this entire experience.  My sweet husband just doesn't function very well off of little sleep... and he had only gotten about an hour of sleep on Tuesday night before heading into the hospital.  He would stand up and let me hold onto him through all my contractions.  After they started to get more intense, he was still there and was a great support, but I needed more from him.  I needed him to tell me I was beautiful and was doing a great job.  So - instead of getting mad at him in my head, I told him to get in the game and to encourage me more.  I even remember getting a little annoyed when I'd look up at him after a contraction and he'd be watching tv over my shoulder!  Ha ha!  I think it's hysterical now - but for some reason at the moment - I expected him to just be staring at me in complete awe that I was doing this naturally.  I mean - he HAD done this to me afterall.  This was ALL his fault, right?  He needed to suffer a little bit and watching TV while I breathed through some of the most intense pain of my life was not cutting it.  I just think it's hysterical now - looking back at this - all I can think about was how amazing he was to me all day long.  Love this guy....

Jessica stopped back by during her lunch break and took Chris down to the cafeteria for some lunch.  They ate (with my blessing) their yummy french fries and sandwiches while I bounced up and down.  Jessica truly was a life saver as far as distractions went.  She made the time go by way faster when she stopped by.

I was allowed to have Jello and juices so I made an order for "all of the above" since I really hadn't eaten anything since 5 pm the night before.  They brought me one tiny container of Jello and several juice boxes and a few hours later I decided I wanted more Jello because I could feel myself starting to fade.  It was mid afternoon and I was hungry and cranky.  Well guess what - the hospital was "out" of Jello.  How is that possible?  I decided that was the least of my worries and downed more juice hoping it'd give me enough energy for the rest of the day ahead of me.

Our nurse kept telling me that Tate would probably be by after his appointments at his office were through and when we still had no sign of Tate by 6 pm, I was getting worried.  I was thinking I was SURELY getting close because I had nearly puked all over the hospital room several times (a sign my nurse was sure that things were progressing) and I was "thinking" I was maybe starting to feel pressure.  The nurse called Doc T and he wasn't going to able to come by for a few more hours so I begged her to go ahead and check me for progress.  Well, with high hopes of being 8-9 cm, I closed my eyes awaiting the exciting news.  And when I heard the words come out of her mouth, I kept my eyes closing thinking maybe it wasn't really true if I didn't make eye contact with her.  SURELY she was wrong.  SURELY she was mistaken.  I opened my eyes and the reality set in that I was still at 5 cm.  After an ENTIRE day of contractions with no epidural.  An entire day of working my BUTT off on the exercise ball.  Doing DEEP squats  up and down getting the baby to move down.  I was done.  I hated everyone in the world.  I was going to have another c-section.  My body was NOT going to be able to have this baby vaginally.  My dreams of having a baby the way God intended was gone.  GONE!  I was going to have another EXTREMELY invasive surgery on my body and another long road to recovery was to come.  I was devastated.  I immediately asked for more Nubain because I didn't care anymore.  I wasn't going to give in to the epidural until Doc T was there to check me again, but I knew that the epidural was in my future.  I started hyperventilating - full on panic attack came on.  I wasn't able to breathe, I wasn't able to think clearly, all I knew was that my dreams of a vaginal birth were down the drain.  I would never experience the birth I wanted.  It wasn't meant to be.  I was shattered.  The nurse couldn't come fast enough with the Nubain.  She put it in my body and I asked (more like shouted) to my mom and Chris that I didn't want to hear a WORD - NO conversation at all.  A few minutes later, my mom's phone rings and she answers in her normal chippy voice and I nearly lost it.  I asked (more like ordered) her to leave the room and fell back into my depressed, "sorry for myself" state of "somewhat" relaxation.  I felt the Nubain wear off after about 20 minutes and I went RIGHT back into my state of hysteria.  I cried and cried into Chris' shirt.  I absolutely hated my c-section the first time and knowing it was in my future now was absolutely the worst thing I could imagine.  WHY couldn't my body progress in labor?  WHY couldn't my perfectly healthy body do what it was supposed to do?  I told Chris to immediately text our entire growth group to ask for prayers.  He said he'd been trying but for some reason neither of our phones were able to send out text messages anymore.  Whatever - I didn't care anyway.  It was done.  I had been defeated.  I just laid back and prayed.  I prayed and prayed and prayed.  I was MAD.  I was mad at God for allowing me to feel like a vaginal birth was what I was supposed to do.  I truly had felt for at least a year or so that God had been pushing me towards learning about a VBAC and changing my heart to be a huge supporter for VBACs.  I never really approached the VBAC process without prayer and I just couldn't believe that He would put me through this pregnancy yearning for a vaginal birth - and in the end just tearing it away from me after an entire day of labor.  I was honest with God and told Him I was mad at Him - and pleaded with Him to give me the birth I knew deep down He had planned for me to have.  I laid there in silent prayer..... for what seemed like hours.  Then - Doc T finally showed up.....

Part 3 coming tomorrow!

Birth Story Part 1

So I was 40 weeks and 3 days pregnant and basically REALLY miserable.  It was a Monday afternoon and I had a "pressure point" massage at 4 that afternoon.  It was mostly a lot of pressing certain points on my feet, legs, back, etc.  I left the massage feeling a bit more relaxed - but definitely not any closer to meeting our little baby!  I started working a bit on my lap top that evening and started having contractions about every 30 minutes around 10 pm.  They lasted the entire night long and I woke up with every one and went to the bathroom with each one.  On Tuesday, I went to work feeling pretty awful, but knew I had a ton to get done and I knew it would make the day go by much faster than just staying home and having contractions all day - not to mention there was NO way I could chase after Parker all day.  I started having more regular contractions and by lunchtime, they were around 20 minutes apart.  I had 3-4 contractions on my way home that day (30 minute car ride) and when I got home, they were irregularly between 10 and 20 minutes apart most of the evening.

Our fridge was bare on Tuesday night, so for dinner I decided to eat cereal, scrambled eggs and milk (sorta wish I wold have done something more hearty considering I didn't eat another meal until Thursday morning at 2 am!!)  By 9 or 10 Tuesday night, the contractions were getting closer together so I texted my best friend and chiropractor doctor, Kristin, and we decided to meet up at her office to have her adjust me just in case.  I wanted to be SURE my hips and back were in the perfect placement to push a baby out :)  Jon and Robin came over to sit here while Parker was in bed and we headed off to K's office.  Well - if you read my posts below (that I had every intention of keeping updated throughout the day - FAIL) you know that my contractions were only a few minutes apart by 1 am so we called Doc T and I was shocked that HE actually answered the phone!  After getting over the initial shock that my actual doctor was answering the phone at 1:00 in the morning, he said to come on in and get checked out in triage at Emory Midtown Hospital.  SO - off we go!

We had already packed our bags the night before when I started having contractions so we were basically ready - just had to grab a few last minute things.  We woke Parker up and loaded up in the truck.  On our way to Whitney's house (where Parker and our dog, Jack were going), the fog was really heavy.  I was moaning and groaning through contractions in the truck when Parker just decided he would be a chatter box.  And thank goodness he did because I think the funny things he said were the only thing getting me through the pain at the time.  He kept asking about the fog and what it was and Chris told him it was like a cloud from the sky was really low on the ground.  Parker was quiet for a minute and he finally asked, "Daddy???  Why is that cloud down on the ground?  Is it lost?"  This pretty much made Chris and I lose it and we are still joking about "lost clouds" today.  ANYWAY - We dropped Parker and Jack off at Whit's house and I had steady contractions all the way to the hospital.  I stopped timing them - but I knew they were getting closer together.

We got there and immediately regretted not doing a hospital tour because we had no idea where to go.  I was afraid of Chris just dropping me off at the front because let's just say that Emory Midtown hospital is smack in the middle of downtown Atlanta and it is NOT the safest place to be hanging out at 3:00 in the morning.  We decided to park in the garage - I knew I could just stop and lean on Chris during contractions on the walk into the hospital.  After asking the police man at the front of the hospital where we were supposed to go, we figured out where maternity triage was and headed that way.  But first I had to take advantage of taking a few pictures in between contractions.  As soon as we walked into the hospital, I was excited to see CHRISTMAS decorations out!  I took a few pictures of me in front of one of the Christmas trees and sent them to Kristin (my fellow Christmas fanatic).

Funny story - I didn't find this out until a few weeks after Caroline came, but I guess Tyler asked Kristin in the middle of the night Tuesday night if he had heard from me and she mentioned that she got a text from me around 3 am with a picture of my Christmas tree at my house!  She told Tyler that she guessed that since I had been having contractions, I figured I should go ahead and decorate my house for Christmas before going to the hospital!  HA HA HA!  Tyler shook his head and just said, "Oh no - she's going to be SO tired while in labor!"  Well, it's a good thing that Tyler's MOM from Peachtree City reads my blog because she asked Kristin and Tyler later that next morning about me and said she had seen that I was on the way to the hospital in the wee hours of the morning.  Kristin THEN took a closer look at the picture of the Christmas tree I sent her and she quickly realized that the ugly carpet and tacky wall painting was definitely not in my house and that I must have taken it at the hospital! 

The picture I texted Kristin at 3 am when we were checking in.  

Because friends can send friends texts of Christmas trees at 3 am.

 This was me right as we were walking into the hospital!  My last "belly shot"!

 

We get checked into triage and the nurse wanted to check to see if my water had broken first before checking to see if I was dilated (Doc T's special orders is that you don't check for dilation if the water is already broken.)  So she does a few tests and decides that my water, in fact, had broken.  I knew I had been leaking "stuff" all day - but it was never a big gush or steady flow that I had expected.  So, after talking to Doc T, she does decide to check me just to see how progressed I am - so that Doc T would know how quickly he would need to head up to the hospital.  Turns out I was only 3 cm (1/2 a cm progress from Monday) but my cervix was thinning  (can't remember how much now) but it was all good news.  We got checked into our room and I got the news that because they had determined that because my water had broken, I wasn't going to be granted permission to walk the hospital halls like I had planned. They were afraid that the umbilical cord could fall out or something.  They also wanted me hooked up to the monitors as much as possible since I was a VBAC patient - they like to keep an eye on things as much as possible.  I was allowed to walk around the delivery room as much as I wanted.

This was the first picture I took in the delivery room... waiting for Doc T to come in!

 Doctor Tate came in around 8:30 that morning on his way into the office and he is totally cool and collected just as I had expected.  He answers his phone and talks to his wife about whether or not he fed the dogs that morning then talks to us for a few minutes about my progress.  He decides to check me and I was 5 cm!!!!  HOORAY!  I was half way there!  I was thinking this baby was going to be OUT in a matter of hours!  THEN - he breaks the news that he was sure that my water had, in fact, NOT broken.  He was sure it was still in tact.  So - in the awesome, Tate way, he says he wants to allow my water to break naturally throughout the day.  He still wanted me to stay hooked up to the monitors because I was a VBAC patient so that the nurses could keep a close eye on the baby and me as well.  He told me to get the birthing ball from a nurse and work on it for awhile.  He mentioned to give him a call at the office if/when I was ready for something to help with the pain.  I still felt OK at this point and sort of wanted to keep going natural for a little longer if possible.  He left and we got the birthing ball and I sat on it and bounced, rolled and tried to start getting the baby to move on down. (Baby at this point was still very high).  Lying down on the hospital bed was basically the most painful position possible so I stayed up in the rocking chair and the birthing ball the rest of the day.

Here is what my hospital room looked like!  Little did I know I'd be in here for about 20 hours!

Here were the views from our room...

This was down towards Tech's campus...

This was my "information board".  They asked what my goals were and the only thing I could think of was that I wanted to push this baby out of my vagina and I did NOT want any surgery!  They then reminded me that I also should probably have a goal of "healthy mom and baby" - oh yeah - that too!

Oh - I almost forgot to mention my visitors!  One of my best friends, Jessica, works at Emory so she was able to stop by before work to visit for a bit which ended up being a GREAT distraction.

My mom also showed up around 10 that morning thinking it would only be a few hours til baby!  Parker was at Whit's house and we truly thought baby was coming sooner than later so we decided to leave him up there and let mom stay at the hospital with me and Chris.

I was EXCITED and on a NATURAL HIGH for most of the early morning.... until..... (Part 2 coming tomorrow!)