I still vividly remember that first contraction. I looked at the clock and it said 1:57pm. I thought to myself, "Whoa. I think this is real. I better write that down."
But we're getting ahead of ourselves.
With Calvin, I was induced at 41-weeks and it was the slowest 30+ hours of labor ever. (So much Pitocin, so much epidural, so exhausted & SO thankful when he finally arrived!) When I went into labor with Lucy, I didn't realize it was happening. By the time I did, and made it to the hospital, I was dilated to an 8 & there was no time for an epidural. I wasn't planning on a natural birth, but after it was over, I was surprisingly glad I had the experience! I felt strong, capable, empowered... like I was part of this special "mom club" that knew the pain of what it really feels like to push out a baby! (Side note: I am 100% not shaming moms who get epidurals... I still think you are amazing because birthing a baby isn't easy no matter what route you take!)
But anyway... this time around, my doctor said if I was induced, my labor would go really fast. So... I wanted the drugs! I decided to schedule an elective induction the day before my due date: April 28. (I was really excited about this date because Dr. Arbona (who I love) was on-call and it fit the pattern of our other kids' birth dates. Calvin was born April 24, 2014, Lucy was born April 26, 2016, so baby #3 just had to be born on April 28, 2018!!)
The week before I was really nervous that I would go into labor early and two of our kids would have to share a birthday. So I put myself on bedrest periodically, especially when I started to get Braxton Hicks. Thankfully, we made it through all the celebrations and to my induction date!
The induction was scheduled for 4am at Mount Carmel St Ann's hospital in Westerville. My parents came down to watch the kids the night before. I curled my hair, ate breakfast, packed my bags, and I was ready to have this baby! Everything was perfect. Except... once we arrived, we found out the hospital was full.
Wait. What?! I was so confused. I didn't even realize this was a possibility. They said that so many women kept going into labor naturally and they didn't have any rooms left for elective inductions. So my choices were to stay and wait to see if a room opened up, go home and they would call me, or reschedule the induction for the next day at 4am. I didn't want to go home yet (and secretly thought that maybe if I stayed there, I could somehow get myself to go into labor!)
So as we waited, I started doing lunges, squats, and power walking laps around the halls. After several hours, I looked at my FitBit and saw I had walked over 7 miles! I had been having a lot of contractions so I thought maybe I progressed enough for them to admit me. I asked the nurse to check me again, but sadly I was still at 4cm. I was so disappointed. They said we should go home and they would call me if anything changed.
As we left the hospital, in my hormonal, extremely pregnant (& physically exhausted) state, I broke down and cried. This was not how my "perfect" birth story was supposed to go. Husband took me to Waffle House and I ate my feelings with a big Grand Slam breakfast. Once we got home, I decided that I was going to try one more time. I started walking up and down the stairs two at a time, doing more lunges and squats, and even researched acupressure points to stimulate labor. Still nothing.
As I sat down to eat lunch, I came to the realization that it just wasn't going to happen. I decided that maybe this was a sign that the baby just wasn't ready to come and I shouldn't be induced at all. I consciously thought to myself, I'm going to cancel my induction and just let the baby come naturally, whenever that may be. After I made this decision, I felt so relaxed and at peace. I wasn't disappointed anymore and accepted that things happen for a reason and this was meant to be.
Less than an hour later, I felt it. That first real contraction. I flashed back to when I went into labor with Lucy. I was 90% sure it was the same feeling. It was a sharp cramp pain that wrapped around my body and ended with a deep aching in my back. This was not like the other contractions. It was not Braxton Hicks. I was in labor. It was 1:57pm.
I told Husband and my mom that I thought this might be it. At first I didn't want to believe it and get my hopes up again, but they kept coming. 1:59, 2:00, 2:03, 2:05, 2:07, 2:09, 2:11, 2:14, 2:16, 2:19, 2:21, 2:23, 2:26, 2:28, 2:30... and that's when I stopped writing them down. The pain kept escalating. I could barely walk or talk during each contraction. That's the moment I said, "Get the stuff. We are going to the hospital NOW." (I was so grateful my mom was already there so we didn't have to stress over who would watch the kids!) On the way to the hospital, I texted my birth photographer, Marnie, and Husband called Dr. Arbona and told her we were on our way... and now I was 110% sure it was the real thing! Luckily, she was just on her way out so she headed back into the hospital to wait for me.
When we arrived, all the staff was smiling and laughing that we were back... and this time they couldn't turn me away! They had some issues with my registration at the check-in desk (even though I had already been admitted, they had to re-do everything). The girl said something about having three different accounts... I couldn't really focus because each contraction was getting closer together and increasing in pain. The only thing I remember her saying was, "Just let me know if you have the urge to push!" I stared at her with wide eyes, hoping and praying that it wasn't that close. Then the contractions hit a whole new level and I just kept moan-screaming and swaying my hips from side to side (which I'm pretty sure traumatized the young dad in the lobby who had just checked his wife in.)
We finally made it to triage where the nurse crushed all my hopes and dreams. "Sorry honey. You're 10cm. This baby is coming and there's no time for an epidural!"
I wanted to cry but then another contraction hit, and I just kept trying to stay positive and tell myself, "You've done it before. You can do it again!"
Of course it was so extremely painful I can't even put it into words, but instead of just suffering and being tortured, I felt like I was able to manage the pain and stay in control of my body. The most difficult part was definitely the last 10 minutes. It literally felt like my body might rip in half, or catch on fire, or both. I wanted so badly to just keep pushing and get the baby out ASAP. But Dr. Arbona kept reminding me to relax. To slow my breathing. Take a break. Wait for the next contraction. Finally, I felt the undeniable urge to push and after 2 more contractions, BABY. WAS. OUT!!! The instant relief and first sight of my sweet baby was the best feeling in the world. The time was 3:38pm.
I remember Dr. Arbona asking my husband, "Do you see what it is?!" And he responded, "Yes! It's a boy!"
When they laid my baby boy in my arms, I had this overwhelming feeling that I already knew him. I just felt so instantly connected to him, like we weren't meeting for the first time, we were being reunited. (I never had this experience with my other two children, so it totally caught me off guard in the most beautiful, spiritual way.)
Then my second thought was, "Wow, he's heavy!" Dr. Arbona said, "You pushed out a big baby! I think he's bigger than Calvin!" She asked me what I thought he weighed and my guess was maybe 9lbs 8oz? We looked over at the scale and it said 10 lbs 3 oz.
Yes, you read that right... TEN POUNDS. Everyone was so shocked! I had an ultrasound several weeks earlier and they predicted baby was 50th percentile, average size and probably about 8lbs. haha not quite. Although to be honest, I was actually glad they were wrong about his weight because I think it totally would have psyched me out during the delivery.
It still amazes me that with the help of my awesome doctor, pushing out a 10-pound baby was easier than delivering Lucy, who was only 7-pounds. I can totally see why people hire a doula now. It really does make a difference having someone who knows what they're doing to help guide you through it!
Even though our baby's gender was a surprise... it didn't really feel like one because we all just knew it was a boy. That's what my instinct told me since the beginning. Especially since 8-months earlier, Calvin ran up to me while he was playing, laid his head on my belly and said, "Mom, there's a baby boy in your belly." I was on birth control and we weren't trying or even thinking about getting pregnant, so I was very shocked and responded, "No, there's not!" haha well... clearly, he was right all along.
While this birth was the easiest, the recovery was not. The days following the delivery were rough. I had a third-degree tear, gave birth after only 3 hours of sleep the night before, and worst of all: the soreness from the 16,933 steps (7.28 miles), 12 floors and 106 minutes of physical activity that put me into labor in the first place. The pain from all my lunges and squats led to barely being able to lift my legs or walk. haha I didn't quite think that part through...
But regardless of the pain and soreness, we were so happy that our sweet baby boy made it here safely!! It was a bonus that he came all on his own... on my dream birth date: 4/28/2018. He had beautiful dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin and every time I held him, the name "Theo" just kept coming to my mind. It took a few days of convincing, but I finally got Husband on board with the name, Theodore James. I think it's a perfect fit because "Theodore" means "God's gift." And since he was our unexpected surprise baby, I've always felt like he is a little gift to our family. And we're so grateful he's ours.
But we're getting ahead of ourselves.
With Calvin, I was induced at 41-weeks and it was the slowest 30+ hours of labor ever. (So much Pitocin, so much epidural, so exhausted & SO thankful when he finally arrived!) When I went into labor with Lucy, I didn't realize it was happening. By the time I did, and made it to the hospital, I was dilated to an 8 & there was no time for an epidural. I wasn't planning on a natural birth, but after it was over, I was surprisingly glad I had the experience! I felt strong, capable, empowered... like I was part of this special "mom club" that knew the pain of what it really feels like to push out a baby! (Side note: I am 100% not shaming moms who get epidurals... I still think you are amazing because birthing a baby isn't easy no matter what route you take!)
But anyway... this time around, my doctor said if I was induced, my labor would go really fast. So... I wanted the drugs! I decided to schedule an elective induction the day before my due date: April 28. (I was really excited about this date because Dr. Arbona (who I love) was on-call and it fit the pattern of our other kids' birth dates. Calvin was born April 24, 2014, Lucy was born April 26, 2016, so baby #3 just had to be born on April 28, 2018!!)
The week before I was really nervous that I would go into labor early and two of our kids would have to share a birthday. So I put myself on bedrest periodically, especially when I started to get Braxton Hicks. Thankfully, we made it through all the celebrations and to my induction date!
The induction was scheduled for 4am at Mount Carmel St Ann's hospital in Westerville. My parents came down to watch the kids the night before. I curled my hair, ate breakfast, packed my bags, and I was ready to have this baby! Everything was perfect. Except... once we arrived, we found out the hospital was full.
Wait. What?! I was so confused. I didn't even realize this was a possibility. They said that so many women kept going into labor naturally and they didn't have any rooms left for elective inductions. So my choices were to stay and wait to see if a room opened up, go home and they would call me, or reschedule the induction for the next day at 4am. I didn't want to go home yet (and secretly thought that maybe if I stayed there, I could somehow get myself to go into labor!)
So as we waited, I started doing lunges, squats, and power walking laps around the halls. After several hours, I looked at my FitBit and saw I had walked over 7 miles! I had been having a lot of contractions so I thought maybe I progressed enough for them to admit me. I asked the nurse to check me again, but sadly I was still at 4cm. I was so disappointed. They said we should go home and they would call me if anything changed.
As we left the hospital, in my hormonal, extremely pregnant (& physically exhausted) state, I broke down and cried. This was not how my "perfect" birth story was supposed to go. Husband took me to Waffle House and I ate my feelings with a big Grand Slam breakfast. Once we got home, I decided that I was going to try one more time. I started walking up and down the stairs two at a time, doing more lunges and squats, and even researched acupressure points to stimulate labor. Still nothing.
As I sat down to eat lunch, I came to the realization that it just wasn't going to happen. I decided that maybe this was a sign that the baby just wasn't ready to come and I shouldn't be induced at all. I consciously thought to myself, I'm going to cancel my induction and just let the baby come naturally, whenever that may be. After I made this decision, I felt so relaxed and at peace. I wasn't disappointed anymore and accepted that things happen for a reason and this was meant to be.
Less than an hour later, I felt it. That first real contraction. I flashed back to when I went into labor with Lucy. I was 90% sure it was the same feeling. It was a sharp cramp pain that wrapped around my body and ended with a deep aching in my back. This was not like the other contractions. It was not Braxton Hicks. I was in labor. It was 1:57pm.
I told Husband and my mom that I thought this might be it. At first I didn't want to believe it and get my hopes up again, but they kept coming. 1:59, 2:00, 2:03, 2:05, 2:07, 2:09, 2:11, 2:14, 2:16, 2:19, 2:21, 2:23, 2:26, 2:28, 2:30... and that's when I stopped writing them down. The pain kept escalating. I could barely walk or talk during each contraction. That's the moment I said, "Get the stuff. We are going to the hospital NOW." (I was so grateful my mom was already there so we didn't have to stress over who would watch the kids!) On the way to the hospital, I texted my birth photographer, Marnie, and Husband called Dr. Arbona and told her we were on our way... and now I was 110% sure it was the real thing! Luckily, she was just on her way out so she headed back into the hospital to wait for me.
When we arrived, all the staff was smiling and laughing that we were back... and this time they couldn't turn me away! They had some issues with my registration at the check-in desk (even though I had already been admitted, they had to re-do everything). The girl said something about having three different accounts... I couldn't really focus because each contraction was getting closer together and increasing in pain. The only thing I remember her saying was, "Just let me know if you have the urge to push!" I stared at her with wide eyes, hoping and praying that it wasn't that close. Then the contractions hit a whole new level and I just kept moan-screaming and swaying my hips from side to side (which I'm pretty sure traumatized the young dad in the lobby who had just checked his wife in.)
We finally made it to triage where the nurse crushed all my hopes and dreams. "Sorry honey. You're 10cm. This baby is coming and there's no time for an epidural!"
I wanted to cry but then another contraction hit, and I just kept trying to stay positive and tell myself, "You've done it before. You can do it again!"
Once we finally got to the delivery room, Dr. Arbona came in and I was so relieved to see her! She was basically my doula. She helped me incorporate different breathing techniques during and after contractions, encouraged me, helped me know when to push and when to rest... out of all 3 of my deliveries, it was hands down the best birth experience!
I remember Dr. Arbona asking my husband, "Do you see what it is?!" And he responded, "Yes! It's a boy!"
When they laid my baby boy in my arms, I had this overwhelming feeling that I already knew him. I just felt so instantly connected to him, like we weren't meeting for the first time, we were being reunited. (I never had this experience with my other two children, so it totally caught me off guard in the most beautiful, spiritual way.)
Then my second thought was, "Wow, he's heavy!" Dr. Arbona said, "You pushed out a big baby! I think he's bigger than Calvin!" She asked me what I thought he weighed and my guess was maybe 9lbs 8oz? We looked over at the scale and it said 10 lbs 3 oz.
Yes, you read that right... TEN POUNDS. Everyone was so shocked! I had an ultrasound several weeks earlier and they predicted baby was 50th percentile, average size and probably about 8lbs. haha not quite. Although to be honest, I was actually glad they were wrong about his weight because I think it totally would have psyched me out during the delivery.
It still amazes me that with the help of my awesome doctor, pushing out a 10-pound baby was easier than delivering Lucy, who was only 7-pounds. I can totally see why people hire a doula now. It really does make a difference having someone who knows what they're doing to help guide you through it!
Even though our baby's gender was a surprise... it didn't really feel like one because we all just knew it was a boy. That's what my instinct told me since the beginning. Especially since 8-months earlier, Calvin ran up to me while he was playing, laid his head on my belly and said, "Mom, there's a baby boy in your belly." I was on birth control and we weren't trying or even thinking about getting pregnant, so I was very shocked and responded, "No, there's not!" haha well... clearly, he was right all along.
While this birth was the easiest, the recovery was not. The days following the delivery were rough. I had a third-degree tear, gave birth after only 3 hours of sleep the night before, and worst of all: the soreness from the 16,933 steps (7.28 miles), 12 floors and 106 minutes of physical activity that put me into labor in the first place. The pain from all my lunges and squats led to barely being able to lift my legs or walk. haha I didn't quite think that part through...
But regardless of the pain and soreness, we were so happy that our sweet baby boy made it here safely!! It was a bonus that he came all on his own... on my dream birth date: 4/28/2018. He had beautiful dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin and every time I held him, the name "Theo" just kept coming to my mind. It took a few days of convincing, but I finally got Husband on board with the name, Theodore James. I think it's a perfect fit because "Theodore" means "God's gift." And since he was our unexpected surprise baby, I've always felt like he is a little gift to our family. And we're so grateful he's ours.
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