Well, alas, he has arrived. On November 12th, 2011 at 8:50 AM Liam Clark decided he was ready to join us Earth-side. He arrived at a pleasant 7lbs 5.6ounces, 20.5" long.
From the begining:
Friday night, our little family of 3 joined my parents and grandmother for dinner. Upon arriving home, I had this sudden urge to finalize my hospital bag. I removed my coming home outfit, replaced it with another, tossed in the books Ryan and I had been reading, put the camera near the bag and then settled in on the couch for the night. All week I had been making jokes about the full moon and how this had to be my weekend - but fully expected that nothing would happen and Tuesday I'd stroll in at my scheduled time of 5am for an induction.
Sitting on the couch, for the third time in this pregnancy I started to feel some contractions around 10:40PM on 11/11. I had contracted before, usually for about 20-30 minutes regularly and then things would just stop, so I didn't want to get my hopes up. I had just gone in for a visit earlier that morning and been told I was still only 4cm - thus making little progress over the course of the last week. But, I began timing them and they were registering about every 6-7 minutes and only mildly intense - basically just tightening of the uterus. Over the course of the next half an hour or so, they continued to gain intensity and got closer together in frequency. They weren't exactly show-stoppers as far as intensity was concerned, but they were getting stronger and more frequent. I timed them via text with Barbie until about midnight before deciding I should probably fill Ryan in on our plans for the rest of the evening (I had failed to mention it to him up to this point because my parents were sitting on the couch and I really didn't want to get their hopes up - I'm so not into the attention thing). I immediately called the doctor at this point and got the answering service. We waited around for a little bit for the call back, but eventually decided to just head out. At this point contractions were about every 4 minutes apart and I had been told repeatedly not to mess around with a second pregnancy. Intensity was mounting, but they still didn't seem like they were hard-labor intense. I was still able to stand and conversation wasn't impossible... but not really knowing what to look for, I figured I'd play it safe (after all, that's why I wanted to do this whole 'go into labor naturally' thing anyway - to know what to look for).
As I went upstairs to get ready to leave, grab our bags and kiss Jude goodbye (my parents were already up from NC, so they were there to stay with him), I was still apprehensive - mostly because I just felt like we'd get in the car, drive half way there and they'd just stop. But we headed out anyway - about half way there, getting a call from the docor on duty, confirming that yes, it sounds like now is a good time to go in. Arriving at the hospital, I felt totally out of sorts. With Jude, it was cut-and-dry, we were admitted, ushered upstairs and induced. This time there was a process.
They took down my information, got my vitals and took me to a triage room to be hooked to a monitor to chart contractions - which basically means they put a belt around my stomach to register the muscle contractions. We arrived around 1:30am and were easily on the machine in 15 minutes, after having my cervix checked - at which point I was told I was still only 4cm. Through the first half of the 30minutes or so that I was monitored, my contractions were strong, but still not unbearable I continued to feel the intensity rise, but could still manage them on my own. By the second half, they had advance significantly and it was to the point where I had to find a way to work through them (breathing, focusing on an area that wasn't in pain, squeezing the railing... whatever worked). It still wasn't horrific, but I thought for sure things were in full swing - at which point the nurse came in and announced that according to her monitor, it was non-conclusive whether I was infact in active labor and she recommended I walk for the next 2 hours to see if gravity would take it's toll on my body. I immediately wanted to cry. I looked at her like she was crazy and had her confirm my contractions were showing up on the screen - but she stuck to her guns. Just to be certain, she checked my cervix again and I hadn't progressed from 4cm. Since I seemed adament that something was going on though, she reduced my sentence from 2 hours to about an hour and a half - which would bring me back to her right at 4am. Now, I know there are tons of women who would welcome the idea of walking during labor, but it just seemed stupid to me - there was no part of me that wanted to get up and walk around.
I reluctantly got my clothes on and Ryan and I began our trek through the halls. As I said, contractions had already been growing, so getting dressed, Ryan just looked at me in pitty - he could see in my face how uncomfortable I was and he didn't know how to help. Part of the reason I had waited it out for 'so long' (it was nearly 3 hours after I started monitoring contractions that I actually got to the hospital) after contractions started at home is because I didn't want any false alarms. If we made the journey to the hospital, we wanted to come home with a baby. Period. Being told that there was a chance that I might be sent home was enough to crush my spirit - even though I knew that once 4am rolled around there was no way they'd send me home - things were in full swing. As walking began and contractions began to continue to grow in intensity, we both had our fears.
Ryan was concerned that he'd be delivering our child in the hallway - judging from the look on my face. I was concerned I wouldn't get my 4 hours of antibioic for being GBS positive (which meant it was possible they'd encourage an extended stay for Liam - depending on how things played out) and I was equally worried that if/when I decided I wanted an epidural it wouldn't be an option. It was almost immediately upon entering the hallway that we were told was the 'walking hallway' that contractions began practically bringing me to my knees. I had to lean against the wall for support, I felt like my whole body was shaking and I started to cry (looking back, this is what the nurse meant by "come back in two hours... or if things change"). I'm not sure how I would have handled this transition into hard contractions if I hadn't been so frustrated (There's no way I was going to run back to triage after only 5 minutes... she'd laugh at me!), but regardless, I was a mess. All I kept thinking was there was no way I could do this for an hour and a half... but that I didn't want to crawl back and beg for them to admit me - after all, I had been given the option for an induction, declined it and now was doing it the way I wanted. Suck it up Alicia.
Once I basically began to crumble, my super support-team (aka, Ryan) told me to wait as he went back to find the nurse. I'm not sure what he said to her, but after only 20ish minutes of walking, she had us back in the room and was processing our information to be admitted. She check my cervix again and I had progressed to 6cm. Shwoo.... all that for 2cm. At this point it was about 3am, I reminded her I was GBS positive (my doctor had told me to make sure the triage nurse knew this upon being admited so they could start the antibiotics immediately) and she started me on my antibiotic right away before taking me up to the Labor and Delivery floor.
Being that it was 3:15am and they ideally wanted 4 hours of antbiotics in me before delivery, I was informed that they wouldn't do anything to augment my labor until 7:15am (i.e. break my water -which would get things really moving), which I was fine with - but as I was already at my threshold for pain, I was ready for something to help. We were in our official LD room by 4am where I was asked if I'd be getting an epidural and I accepted. I had successfully gone into labor on my own and labored through my contractions (varying from nothing to 'holy shit' in intensity) from roughly 11pm (4cm) until 4:30am (7cm at the time I entered LD). After being taken upstairs, I was told by a couple people how 'well' I was handling the contractions. I think really they were just comparing me to the poor women in the triage room next to mine who kept screaming "Get her out! Get her out! Get her out!"
From the begining:
Friday night, our little family of 3 joined my parents and grandmother for dinner. Upon arriving home, I had this sudden urge to finalize my hospital bag. I removed my coming home outfit, replaced it with another, tossed in the books Ryan and I had been reading, put the camera near the bag and then settled in on the couch for the night. All week I had been making jokes about the full moon and how this had to be my weekend - but fully expected that nothing would happen and Tuesday I'd stroll in at my scheduled time of 5am for an induction.
Sitting on the couch, for the third time in this pregnancy I started to feel some contractions around 10:40PM on 11/11. I had contracted before, usually for about 20-30 minutes regularly and then things would just stop, so I didn't want to get my hopes up. I had just gone in for a visit earlier that morning and been told I was still only 4cm - thus making little progress over the course of the last week. But, I began timing them and they were registering about every 6-7 minutes and only mildly intense - basically just tightening of the uterus. Over the course of the next half an hour or so, they continued to gain intensity and got closer together in frequency. They weren't exactly show-stoppers as far as intensity was concerned, but they were getting stronger and more frequent. I timed them via text with Barbie until about midnight before deciding I should probably fill Ryan in on our plans for the rest of the evening (I had failed to mention it to him up to this point because my parents were sitting on the couch and I really didn't want to get their hopes up - I'm so not into the attention thing). I immediately called the doctor at this point and got the answering service. We waited around for a little bit for the call back, but eventually decided to just head out. At this point contractions were about every 4 minutes apart and I had been told repeatedly not to mess around with a second pregnancy. Intensity was mounting, but they still didn't seem like they were hard-labor intense. I was still able to stand and conversation wasn't impossible... but not really knowing what to look for, I figured I'd play it safe (after all, that's why I wanted to do this whole 'go into labor naturally' thing anyway - to know what to look for).
As I went upstairs to get ready to leave, grab our bags and kiss Jude goodbye (my parents were already up from NC, so they were there to stay with him), I was still apprehensive - mostly because I just felt like we'd get in the car, drive half way there and they'd just stop. But we headed out anyway - about half way there, getting a call from the docor on duty, confirming that yes, it sounds like now is a good time to go in. Arriving at the hospital, I felt totally out of sorts. With Jude, it was cut-and-dry, we were admitted, ushered upstairs and induced. This time there was a process.
They took down my information, got my vitals and took me to a triage room to be hooked to a monitor to chart contractions - which basically means they put a belt around my stomach to register the muscle contractions. We arrived around 1:30am and were easily on the machine in 15 minutes, after having my cervix checked - at which point I was told I was still only 4cm. Through the first half of the 30minutes or so that I was monitored, my contractions were strong, but still not unbearable I continued to feel the intensity rise, but could still manage them on my own. By the second half, they had advance significantly and it was to the point where I had to find a way to work through them (breathing, focusing on an area that wasn't in pain, squeezing the railing... whatever worked). It still wasn't horrific, but I thought for sure things were in full swing - at which point the nurse came in and announced that according to her monitor, it was non-conclusive whether I was infact in active labor and she recommended I walk for the next 2 hours to see if gravity would take it's toll on my body. I immediately wanted to cry. I looked at her like she was crazy and had her confirm my contractions were showing up on the screen - but she stuck to her guns. Just to be certain, she checked my cervix again and I hadn't progressed from 4cm. Since I seemed adament that something was going on though, she reduced my sentence from 2 hours to about an hour and a half - which would bring me back to her right at 4am. Now, I know there are tons of women who would welcome the idea of walking during labor, but it just seemed stupid to me - there was no part of me that wanted to get up and walk around.
I reluctantly got my clothes on and Ryan and I began our trek through the halls. As I said, contractions had already been growing, so getting dressed, Ryan just looked at me in pitty - he could see in my face how uncomfortable I was and he didn't know how to help. Part of the reason I had waited it out for 'so long' (it was nearly 3 hours after I started monitoring contractions that I actually got to the hospital) after contractions started at home is because I didn't want any false alarms. If we made the journey to the hospital, we wanted to come home with a baby. Period. Being told that there was a chance that I might be sent home was enough to crush my spirit - even though I knew that once 4am rolled around there was no way they'd send me home - things were in full swing. As walking began and contractions began to continue to grow in intensity, we both had our fears.
Ryan was concerned that he'd be delivering our child in the hallway - judging from the look on my face. I was concerned I wouldn't get my 4 hours of antibioic for being GBS positive (which meant it was possible they'd encourage an extended stay for Liam - depending on how things played out) and I was equally worried that if/when I decided I wanted an epidural it wouldn't be an option. It was almost immediately upon entering the hallway that we were told was the 'walking hallway' that contractions began practically bringing me to my knees. I had to lean against the wall for support, I felt like my whole body was shaking and I started to cry (looking back, this is what the nurse meant by "come back in two hours... or if things change"). I'm not sure how I would have handled this transition into hard contractions if I hadn't been so frustrated (There's no way I was going to run back to triage after only 5 minutes... she'd laugh at me!), but regardless, I was a mess. All I kept thinking was there was no way I could do this for an hour and a half... but that I didn't want to crawl back and beg for them to admit me - after all, I had been given the option for an induction, declined it and now was doing it the way I wanted. Suck it up Alicia.
Once I basically began to crumble, my super support-team (aka, Ryan) told me to wait as he went back to find the nurse. I'm not sure what he said to her, but after only 20ish minutes of walking, she had us back in the room and was processing our information to be admitted. She check my cervix again and I had progressed to 6cm. Shwoo.... all that for 2cm. At this point it was about 3am, I reminded her I was GBS positive (my doctor had told me to make sure the triage nurse knew this upon being admited so they could start the antibiotics immediately) and she started me on my antibiotic right away before taking me up to the Labor and Delivery floor.
Being that it was 3:15am and they ideally wanted 4 hours of antbiotics in me before delivery, I was informed that they wouldn't do anything to augment my labor until 7:15am (i.e. break my water -which would get things really moving), which I was fine with - but as I was already at my threshold for pain, I was ready for something to help. We were in our official LD room by 4am where I was asked if I'd be getting an epidural and I accepted. I had successfully gone into labor on my own and labored through my contractions (varying from nothing to 'holy shit' in intensity) from roughly 11pm (4cm) until 4:30am (7cm at the time I entered LD). After being taken upstairs, I was told by a couple people how 'well' I was handling the contractions. I think really they were just comparing me to the poor women in the triage room next to mine who kept screaming "Get her out! Get her out! Get her out!"
Considering my main reasons for wanting to go into labor naturally was to experience the natural on-set of contractions, avoid the complications that could flow from being induced (even though, I really didn't have many concerns about how my body would handle induction - things had gone extremely smoothly with Jude), etc, I was pleased with how far I'd gone. Part of me is curious how I would have responded if they had voluntered to break my water - since it would have without a doubt pushed labor along significantly faster, but considering it wasn't an option, I'll stick to it that I have zero regrets. I was shaking, exhausted and still (in their eyes) a minimum of 3 hours away from delivery. There is no way that I personally could have gone 3 more hours on my own. An hour? Sure. Three hours - maybe more? No way.
After being checked following the placement of my epidural (and before they were going to leave us alone to rest for a little while), I was told that unless my water broke on it's own, labor would not progress beyond the 7cm and 90% effacement. Basically the sack of water was weighing on my cervix not allowing the baby to 'push' things along any further - unless of course my water broke on it's own. At this point I was roughly 2+ hours away from my 7:15am mark where they would take the next step.
Even though I was tired, rest was a foreign concept. My nerves had mostly subsided as far as my shaking was concerned, but let's face it, I was getting ready to birth a child, sleep wouldn't be happening. Ryan on the other hand had at his point been awake for over 24 hours (I was lucky to have taken a nice 3 hour nap that afternoon with Jude!). I encouraged him to get some sleep, knowing the day would not allow for much relaxing after 7am - so he slept.
Time seemed to simultaniously fly by and coast slowly for the next two hours. Right on cue the doctor on call for my practice (Dr. Smith) entered the room moments before 7am. She checked my cervix - which had progressed to 8cm and she broke my water. She had started to say that chances were she'd be gone by the time Liam made an appearance (shift change happened somewhere between 7:30 and 8:00am) but she corrected herself and said that since things had come this far, it was possible I wouldn't make it to 8:00.
However, I did - which in hindsight was awesome! I had no problems with Dr. Smith, but the next on-call doctor - Dr. McCrackin was someone I'd met prior and was super personable. I basically advanced through the last 2cm from 7:00am-8:15am. I could feel the pressure mounting (and possibly the epidural beginning to wear off a little?) and informed the nurse. Upon checking my cervix, she had the doctor enter the room immediately, they got their stuff together and I began pushing just after 8:30am.
With Jude, I remember pushing was a breeze. I felt like I went through it effortlessly (an exaggeration - obviously) and aside from just feeling like I needed to push, not really 'feeling' much of the delivery. I didn't have to be told to push for him and I felt totally in tune with what was happening, but it all seemed to just happen... if that makes sense?
Liam's delivery was different. Perhaps it's because I was running on no sleep? Perhaps because I don't think the epidural was as 'high' (as far as how much was being administered)? Perhaps it's because it's just fresh in my mind? But regardless, I seemed to feel more of what was happening. I wouldn't call it pain, but it was intense pressure - that at times I wasn't sure I could work through. I can't say I wasn't able to push, but I feel like each push took more and more out of me. As I pushed, the encouragement from the doctor (Dr. McCrackin) and the nurse and of course, my devouted husband, was just what I needed to keep going. In addition, knowing that if I didn't push through each contraction to my fullest, it would only make me more exhausted and draw out the process kept me focused.
With Jude, there was a point where I was asked if I wanted a mirror to watch the delivery and I declined. No part of me cared to see what would be happening to my body. However, with Liam, the doctor was wearing glasses and with the reflection from the light I pretty much saw the whole birth - basically right up until he slid right out - at which point I just couldn't look any more (and instead needed to focus on the pressure, not this little head bobbing out). I was oddly drawn to watch it happen.
After just 17 minutes of pushing, Liam entered the world at 8:50am.
After being checked following the placement of my epidural (and before they were going to leave us alone to rest for a little while), I was told that unless my water broke on it's own, labor would not progress beyond the 7cm and 90% effacement. Basically the sack of water was weighing on my cervix not allowing the baby to 'push' things along any further - unless of course my water broke on it's own. At this point I was roughly 2+ hours away from my 7:15am mark where they would take the next step.
Even though I was tired, rest was a foreign concept. My nerves had mostly subsided as far as my shaking was concerned, but let's face it, I was getting ready to birth a child, sleep wouldn't be happening. Ryan on the other hand had at his point been awake for over 24 hours (I was lucky to have taken a nice 3 hour nap that afternoon with Jude!). I encouraged him to get some sleep, knowing the day would not allow for much relaxing after 7am - so he slept.
Time seemed to simultaniously fly by and coast slowly for the next two hours. Right on cue the doctor on call for my practice (Dr. Smith) entered the room moments before 7am. She checked my cervix - which had progressed to 8cm and she broke my water. She had started to say that chances were she'd be gone by the time Liam made an appearance (shift change happened somewhere between 7:30 and 8:00am) but she corrected herself and said that since things had come this far, it was possible I wouldn't make it to 8:00.
However, I did - which in hindsight was awesome! I had no problems with Dr. Smith, but the next on-call doctor - Dr. McCrackin was someone I'd met prior and was super personable. I basically advanced through the last 2cm from 7:00am-8:15am. I could feel the pressure mounting (and possibly the epidural beginning to wear off a little?) and informed the nurse. Upon checking my cervix, she had the doctor enter the room immediately, they got their stuff together and I began pushing just after 8:30am.
With Jude, I remember pushing was a breeze. I felt like I went through it effortlessly (an exaggeration - obviously) and aside from just feeling like I needed to push, not really 'feeling' much of the delivery. I didn't have to be told to push for him and I felt totally in tune with what was happening, but it all seemed to just happen... if that makes sense?
Liam's delivery was different. Perhaps it's because I was running on no sleep? Perhaps because I don't think the epidural was as 'high' (as far as how much was being administered)? Perhaps it's because it's just fresh in my mind? But regardless, I seemed to feel more of what was happening. I wouldn't call it pain, but it was intense pressure - that at times I wasn't sure I could work through. I can't say I wasn't able to push, but I feel like each push took more and more out of me. As I pushed, the encouragement from the doctor (Dr. McCrackin) and the nurse and of course, my devouted husband, was just what I needed to keep going. In addition, knowing that if I didn't push through each contraction to my fullest, it would only make me more exhausted and draw out the process kept me focused.
With Jude, there was a point where I was asked if I wanted a mirror to watch the delivery and I declined. No part of me cared to see what would be happening to my body. However, with Liam, the doctor was wearing glasses and with the reflection from the light I pretty much saw the whole birth - basically right up until he slid right out - at which point I just couldn't look any more (and instead needed to focus on the pressure, not this little head bobbing out). I was oddly drawn to watch it happen.
After just 17 minutes of pushing, Liam entered the world at 8:50am.
Right before I began pushing I had one last gush of amniotic fluid, which the nurse and doctor determined to have some very slight traces of meconum. As a result, a pediatrician was called to be on hand, and instead of being immediately placed on my chest, Liam had to be whisked off to the heating lamp to be checked. I had been told that as long as he cries right away, the odds were that I could get him right back - and of course he did just what he needed to do to be deemed healthy and safe. After about 5 minutes (just enough time to deliver the placenta and stitch me up - while Ryan admiringly looked over his newest son) Liam was placed cozily in my arms at a healthy 7lbs 6 ounces. Thus ending the stretch from 10:40pm to 8:50am (about 10 hours) of being in labor.
Everyone at the hospital was exceptional - even the nurse in the triage room wasn't as horrible as I thought she was at that moment - in fact she really helped push those few centimeters along.
In the days following the delivery, the care and support from the staff continued to be 'right on point' (as Ryan would say). We had to hang out in the L and D room after the delivery since the hospital was so full (and they wanted to clear out a few rooms before ushering anyone else down to the maternity floor), and the nurse who hung out in our room following delivery was so supportive. After the brief time of checking Liam for any poop-related problems, he was placed right back on my chest. I could hear the receptionists in the hall asking the nurse over and over again for Liam's measurements and she kept pipping back "just give mom some more time..." or "he's nursing, it'll be awhile" (have I mentioned that he latched on immediately and did an AWESOME job? and that he hasn't stopped since...lol). It wasn't until well after Jude was brought up to the room and we had our little time together as a family of four that she even attempted to take him over to be measured.
After we were taken down to our room a couple hours later, the support and care continued to impress us - just as it had with Jude. Initially upon entering our room, the nurse (Cathy) was waiting and ready to assist in any way. We really didn't want any care, but she was there in case we needed it. At one point she came in to gather all the information she needed to help us through our stay. When I said I was nursing - she beamed. When I said we weren't circumsizing - she nearly jumped out of her chair from sheer excitement. At one point I hinted to the fact that we co-slept with Jude (most people frown upon that) - and she said she did too. Basically, she 'got' me.
The day after I had Liam (sunday) she even made an honest effort to get us discharged early. The hospital likes to keep you for two nights after you deliver (which I totally support, no part of me wants to be rushed into a car after my vagina gets turned inside out). Being that I delivered in the morning (as opposed to the evening like I did with Jude), this meant some extra time... and by Sunday afternoon, we were itching for home. She informed me that my OB had given me the greenlight to be home bound, but when Liam's pediatrician came in, she seemed hesitant to send us away. She wanted to keep an eye on his jaundice levels (which at 12 hours were climbing - but at 24 hours were in safe territory) and wanted to look for any GBS-related complications. She didn't out-right decline our request, but just informed us of what benefit there was in keeping him under their care... so we stayed and were discharged first thing the next morning.
Bringing Jude home a little brother was an awesome moment. He did everything but squeal with joy when we walked in the door. He would pet Liam and smile at him and kiss him... and is just head over heals about him.
In the end, I am once again thrilled with my delivery and the final outcome. We have an amazing, healthy little end-cap to our family. We had a friendly and supportive hospital staff and no real complaints. I'm so excited to watch Liam grow into as wonderful of a child as his big brother!
