Noah (The Birth)

Everyone told me that the third baby would surely come with a quick and relatively easy labor.  I was very eager to believe them.  Our second came much faster and easier than the first, so surely that trend would continue, right?

It didn't.

And I was not prepared.

Of course, we were "prepared" for baby Noah to come.  I just wasn't mentally prepared for  the intensity of labor.  It all started about two in the morning with the first piercing contraction that woke me from my sleep.  My other labors had begun around that same time, so I laid there, with adrenaline pumping, calculating about what time of day I thought I would be holding our new baby.  I was hoping for noon or so.  Then I tried to calm my thoughts and catch some more sleep.  I dozed restlessly in between contractions that were approximately fifteen minutes apart until about 6:30.  Then I hopped in the shower, expecting things to pick up once I was up and moving.

They really didn't.

If I was active, contractions got closer together.  When I slowed down, the labor pains did too.  I had my weekly doctor appointment that morning, so after playing with the kids for a bit in the first significant snowfall of the season, we headed to see the doctor.  A cervical check showed I was at 2.5 cm and 70% effaced.  I elected to have the doctor strip my membranes in hopes of "getting things going".  And they got going.

But I sure wouldn't do that again.

My contractions instantly changed from quite bearable to really intense, in a super crampy kind of way.  They were difficult to work through.  But I was excited that they were more intense and getting closer together.  We returned home to labor for several hours.  By nearly two o'clock, I was convinced we should head to the hospital.  We arrived to have a cervical check show that I was only 3 cm dilated and still around 70% effaced.  I had essentially made NO progress since that morning.  And once the nurses gave me the report, my contractions all but stopped for a while.  A frank discussion with our doula highlighted that having my membranes stripped that morning may have caused the illusion (that's my word, not hers) of active labor, but with no physical effect on my cervix.  I was so disappointed and fought a lot of feelings of shame and embarrassment.  I had never made that trip to the hospital only to turn around and leave again right away.  It made me doubt myself and my ability to understand what was going on with my body.

I resolved that I would go home and try to nap.  I was half convinced that the contractions might disappear all together if I could just sleep.

They didn't.

They continued to be intense in nature but about fifteen minutes apart again.  I tried to sleep, but would end up writhing in pain, not coping well through the contractions, and then eventually crying.  In the midst of this I uttered the famous words, "I don't know if I can do it."

Our home was not very relaxing at this point.  My mom was here tending to the kids, but as long as T and I were around, they wanted to keep checking in with us.  They were loud, distracting, and kept wanting to touch me (which was not welcome).   T kept getting pulled away to help tend to their needs.  It didn't help that I was a bit distressed and that Hannah was quite worried about me.

So, around dinner time, we called our doula, asking her to come to our house.  I felt like I needed her to help me regain some mental tenacity and to speak some words to me about my ability to trust my body.  T also took the kids to the Sapps' house at this point.  That was some glorious peace and quiet!

With the presence and attention of both my hubby and our doula, I was able to get in rhythm with the intense surges.  I was able to mentally focus on letting my body open up.  I was able to relax.  Shortly before nine o'clock, I began to have slight sensations of pressure with some contractions.  I was also gaining confidence that I had made significant progress.  So, we headed to the hospital again.

SIDENOTE:  I don't remember the transition to the hospital being so frustratingly annoying with my first two births.  I had brief thoughts about just not going this time around.  As a woman who prefers to labor mostly at home, I found it SO out of rhythm and almost comical to get in a vehicle, drive across town, to then be greeted by a battery of check-in procedures, questions, small-talk, and vital checks.  All the while I'm moaning quite loudly through frequent contractions.  It was a bit surreal.

Anyway, upon arrival to the hospital this time around, I was 8 cm dilated.  I was encouraged and knew the end was in sight.  I continued through contractions until the urge to push came around 10:30, I'd guess.  With the initial pushes, my water finally broke.  That was cool to experience spontaneously, as I'd chosen to have it artificially ruptured in the late stages of labor with the other two.  And not long after that, I pushed with all my might.  My body had taken over.  Before I knew it, there was a beautiful brand new baby boy between my legs.

I think I immediately summed up my joy, relief, and awe by asking, "How did I do that?"  :)