It's not uncommon to find a "baby bump" picture like this one on Facebook:
Then find a picture like this one the next day:
Both pictures just bubble over with new-parent pride and warm fuzzy family feelings--which is good! . . .It's just not the whole story. There's a lot that goes on behind the scenes between pic 1 and pic 2. This blog post will tell you (and show you) a little of what happens in between those two pictures. Disclaimer: This is a birth story. I feel like I kept it PG-13, but if you have a tendency to be the TMI police, this blog post might not be for you :)
My little girl whose birth story this is, is now 3 years old! How times flies! I have long regretted not writing her birth story, so when her
little sister was born, I made sure to document that. But then I felt guilty that Heidi would have her birth story to look back on and Leila wouldn't! So three years later I have undertaken to recall the exhilarating day that we brought our first little girl into the world. I am amazed at how much I remember, though there are a few details that I'm not quite sure of. This post is for my Leila girl one day. If you read it too, that's wonderful! I love it when people read my writing! If you get all the way through. . .ten points for you! It's quite the post :)
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It was July 4th--the day I was hoping to give birth, preferably in the morning after a full night's rest. How ironic, I thought, for the Canadian to have her baby on America's national holiday. As it turned out, she would miss it by a day, but that's when the story began.
Not only did I not get a full night's rest, labor commenced after staying up too late for the 4th of July activities. We had tickets to The Stadium of Fire with my dear friend who introduced me to my husband. We watched Clay Atkins and The Beach Boys with my friend Jini and her boyfriend (future husband). Before that, we spent the afternoon playing games with my cousin's kids. We're too competitive at games. . .so competitive that we couldn't call it quits even when we knew we needed to leave if we were going to find parking. We stayed until the bitter end of the games, then sped off toward the BYU stadium.
We knew the parking would be awful, so when we saw University Avenue lined with cars, we took that as a sign that there was no parking closer to the stadium. We parked and walked 1.5 miles. . . Keep in mind, this was only 12 days before my due date. I laughed as we walked. . .or should I say as Robby walked and I waddled. I laughed as I told Robby that some people purposely try to induce labor by going on long walks. Robby was unaware of this, but it would soon be etched into his memory.
We sang, danced and jumped around to Barbara-Ann and Kokamo, we had a great time! On the long walk back, I felt it. It was the weirdest feeling though, so I didn't quite know what was going on. I felt a tension that started at the end of my bulbous stomach, then snaked around toward my back. I wondered if I was having contractions, but not knowing what contractions felt like, I wasn't sure. I looked it up on my phone and it said that early contractions feel like menstrual cramps--starting in the front, and moving around toward the back. . .yep; that fit the bill. But they were kinda far apart and they weren't consistent. I knew I was supposed to wait until they were 5 minutes apart (if I was following the advice of my prenatal class) or 2-3 minutes apart (if I was following the advice of my OBGYN). Arg! I didn't like the idea of waiting. I know many women want to labor at home as much as they can before going to the hospital, even (and maybe especially) on their first babies. I'm not one of those women. I wanted to be in the hospital under the watchful care of trained professionals and with every monitor, instrument, and do-hickey at their disposal to prevent anything (hopefully) from going wrong. I also knew a girl who labored too long at home and gave birth in the car on the way. No thanks! So when we finally got home, around midnight, I sent Robby to bed while I packed my hospital bag. I used a contraction timing app to monitor my contractions. To my dismay, although they were getting closer together, they weren't getting close enough to be admitted. . .probably. BUT then a marvelous thing happened--I started bleeding! I knew from my prenatal class, that bleeding means "go to the hospital now"! I've never been so excited in my whole life to see blood! It was my "get. . .
into jail free card"! I didn't have to wait for these silly contractions to get closer before the medical staff would take me seriously! Wahoo! I woke Robby up and off we went. We made a pre-planned stop at Sonic to get a chocolate banana milkshake.
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| Wincing/fake-smiling through an early contraction on the way to the hospital |
Aside: I kept hearing that once you go into labor you should only have clear fluids like chicken broth, jello, popsicles etc. I thought "are you kidding me?! You want me to go through the most physically exhausting experience in my life with NO CALORIES IN ME?! ARE YOU NUTS?!?!? No wonder laboring woman are known to yell obscenities at their spouses and altogether act in ways that they might not be proud of later on! When I'm
not pregnant I get "hangry" (hungry/angry if you didn't catch that), when I AM pregnant, I'm hangry on steroids because of hormones. And you expect me to burn 3000 calories/ hour while in hard labor on no food?! No dude! Those two don't jive." Since I was going to be involved in the kind of calorie burning that couldn't be rivaled by a week's worth of P90X, I decided to begin a quest to find the best food to eat before labor.
So one time while I was at a prenatal appointment, there was a student nurse shadowing the Doctor. I told them of my concern and the student said "let me tell you something off the record, this isn't what medical staff are supposed to advise, but when I had my baby I had a chocolate milkshake beforehand because it's packed full of calories and if you
do end up throwing it up, it tastes just as good coming up as it did going down!" Ha! best medical advice of my life! So chocolate milkshake it was. . .with a banana thrown in for fun.
***OK. Stepping off soapbox***
We got to the hospital around 2AM and Robby grabbed a wheelchair for me while I was chowing down on the milkshake in the car. He wheeled me in and we were directed to labor and delivery. They checked me and I was only a 2. Lame. They kept me in triage for awhile to see if they would admit me or not. The first nurse we had was . . .not my favorite. She fastened the big belt around my belly so we could monitor the baby's heart beat and my contractions. As first time parents, Robby and I watched the monitor screen like our baby's life depended on it. Well, it kept losing her heart beat and that concerned us. . .obviously! So we pressed the call button and she came in asking what we needed. When we told her we were worried about the baby's heartbeat, she shrugged it off and said the baby was fine. That was it. No explanation of how she knew the baby was fine, just that she was. Hmmm. She left and it happened again. We hated to "bother" her, but we hated even worse the idea of there being something wrong with our baby, so we hit the call button again. When we told her the reason for our summoning her, she was visibly irritated. She touted that she was the nurse, she knows what's going on, we don't, and If there was anything wrong
she would let
us know. . .So we were grateful for the 6AM shift switch when we got a wonderful, attentive nurse who was patient and explained things well--we were so glad she was the one we actually delivered with.
Our second nurse asked me what my plans were for pain management. I told her that I wanted to do it naturally (that I was really hoping to
not get an epidural). I also admitted that I was a wimp, so who was I kidding--I would likely end up getting one. (Although, what I wasn't considering at the time was the fact that I'm also stubborn/determined). She suggested I get the IV needle placed in my hand, just in case I opted for the epidural, then it would be quicker and easier to administer. That sounded reasonable to me, so we went for it. I walked around the halls of the hospital with Robby, hoping to get the contractions to come closer together. When a contraction hit, I would freeze in pain, lean up against the wall and just wait as I felt like The Incredible Hulk had his fist around my entire mid-section and was squeezing with all his might. OH THE PAIN! It was especially painful in the small of my back, so I had Robby rub my back until the contraction subsided. Back at our room I was trying to figure out ways to get labor moving. I heard in my prenatal class that a birthing ball can help. . .but I guess I hadn't paid attention to
how you use it. I started bouncing up and down on it, and that felt about as unnatural as pineapple on pizza. After all, there was a baby in my pelvis, so that counter-pressure was weird/uncomfortable. I later learned you're supposed to roll around on it using a figure 8 pattern. Oh well! The nurse suggested I try holding onto the bar above the bed and let gravity do it's work, or lean over the bed when the head of the bed was raised, but who wants to do gymnastics while you're in excruciating pain?! I just wanted to curl up in a ball! So I just laid on my side on the bed.
Since I was having trouble dilating, my nurse suggested I do my best to relax. She said that when people are so tense, that seems to possibly prevent dilation. She noted that some women will not progress for hours, then they get an epidural and since that relaxes them, they almost immediately dilate. So, here it was, the biggest feat of self-mastery of my life--relax. . .during contractions. I asked her for some breathing and relaxation tips. Yep. I was in labor, planning on doing it naturally. . . and I didn't have a plan for how to cope with the pain. I blame it on this: I thought I would walk into my prenatal class like a new-mommy-sponge, hungry for knowledge on what to expect in labor, but when the instructor opened the class by saying "so, if you're looking for breathing and relaxation techniques, you're in the wrong class 'cause you won't be learning that here!" I could have taken her out! What was the point in us even being there?! That was the #1 thing I wanted to know! How is it they find it a priority to teach us how to bathe a baby and change her diaper, but you can't let me know how to handle getting something the size of a watermelon out of me without suffering from PTSD later? K. Maybe I'm spazzing a little. . .but REALLY? So I went home and looked up the class that I should have signed up for 2 months ago and there weren't going to be any more offered before my due date, at least not for me to complete all of the sessions. LAME. So fast forward a few months later and there I am trying to "relax" during contractions.
My sweet nurse suggested I take slow, deep breaths, then think of a relaxing place and picture being there. So I pictured a beach. I pretended the light in the corner of the room was the hot sun and I squinted my eyes so that I would just be able to see it a little bit. Then I dug my toes into the blanket and pretended I was wiggling them in the sand. I pictured the waves sweeping up and bathing my feet, and I pretended to hear the calming ocean noises I remembered my mom playing on audio-cassette for me as a child. But then Robby turned some music on using our laptop. I especially liked Paul Cardall, George Winston, and I successfully breathed like this through every contraction for two hours. . .TWO HOURS! I was so super proud of myself and was beyond excited for the nurse to check how much I had dilated. She checked me and--nothing. My cervix hadn't budged. So much effort, so much pain, no reward. I let out the pent up emotion of the last couple hours and wept openly. Part of the difficulty of natural childbirth is not knowing how long you'll have to stay strong, how long you'll have to take a beating. Would it be 5 hours? 25 hours? 55? I didn't know how much longer I could take! Looking back, I'm a little surprised they didn't send me home, seeing as I didn't progress for so long! But maybe it was because my contractions were consistent and intense at that point. Whatever the case, I was glad they let me stay!
Finally they decided to break my water. The only medical personnel who was qualified and available to do so was a good-looking medical student about my age. Weird, right? Actually, no. Normally I would want to be a lot more modest around any adult, but at this point, I just wanted a baby out of me! After my water was broken I started progressing. Finally! Within a couple of hours I was at a 4 and made slow and steady progress after that. Robby was amazing in helping me to handle the contractions! He was likewise exhausted as he had been up since the morning before with just a short nap in between. So he would lay back in a chair in between contractions. When I felt the familiar tense feeling of a contraction creeping up, I would say "Robby! It's coming!" It was terrifying every time! Like looking in the rearview mirror and seeing a car speeding toward you that you knew was going to hit you! So as the pain of the contractions mounted, I could hear the terror in my voice becoming more and more apparent. Bless his heart, Robby helped me by letting me squeeze his hand, by encouraging me, and by rubbing my back. He was there for every contraction--well, almost every one :) One time, in between contractions, Robby actually fell dead asleep sitting upright in the chair across the room. When I yelled for him, it didn't snap him out of his deep sleep, I think I kept yelling if memory serves me right, and he finally jumped out of his chair near the end of the contraction. That's OK. I forgave him for that one :)
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| Robby digging into my back and my sweet nurse offering me flavored ice chips |
The back labor started to get intense and Robby would dig his thumbs into my lower back (where the pain seemed to be stemming from). I would urge him to dig deeper as the pain could not be touched by a gentle spa-like massage. He would go a fraction harder, but it wasn't hard enough! "Harder! Pleeeease!" I would whine. He would ask "are you sure?! I'm going SO hard! I must be hurting you right now!" NO! I need you to dig harder!" I yelled. He would have to turn it up 8 notches to touch that pain. During one contraction, we were both so tired, I whispered in sheer exhaustion for him to push his thumbs in harder. But his sleep-deprived ears couldn't hear my withered tone, so
he persisted with the same strength. That's when I yelled out as hard as I could
"HARDER! ROBBY! HARDER!" Robby was taken aback. In our short 11 months of marriage, he had never heard me raise my voice at him. The nurse later coached Robby on how to better help me--I would bend my knees and Robby would push my feet toward me. This jarred my back a little and helped release the pain somehow. I then figured out that if I just extended my legs out and had him push my feet toward me, that worked even better! But Robby was clearly wearing out! It was now past 8am, so it was a reasonable time to start calling people. First we called Robby's Mom, who would be our birth photographer. She called to get a substitute to take care of her class that day and headed over. A couple hours later we called my cousin who said that she would be happy to be my "Douala" if I needed help in labor. The fact that she had five children naturally made her a worthy candidate (not to mention she has been there for me countless times as a shoulder to cry on when I was in the dating scene!) But one of her children answered the phone and she wasn't at home, so we left a message and Robby had to hold it together as my coach for a little longer.
I felt like I had been beat to a pulp and every time a contraction would come, I would scream/cry like a Prisoner of War pleading to his torturers for mercy. Sounds dramatic? It was! And it was embarassing! So I told Robby that when his Mom came, I didn't want her to be in there during my contractions. Well, unbeknownst to me, she had quietly sneaked in like a fly on a wall and was sitting in a chair watching the whole adventure take place. So Robby just looked at me with a wide-eyed stare as if to say "uuum. . . she's already here". But of course she didn't judge me at all for sounding like an emotional teenage lunatic, rather her eyes welled up with tears for all the pain that I was going through to bring her first little grand baby into the world.
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| I don't really remember this part. . . .I guess I was on oxygen. |
The contractions were getting closer and closer. There didn't seem to be a break between them. I was in the "transition" period of labor. The pain was absolutely tormenting. I thought "I have to get an epidural, this is beyond any kind of pain I can imagine! I am crazy for having gone this long without drugs!!!! I can't handle this! . . .but I can handle it for one more minute." Then a minute later, I basically gave myself the same pity party/ pep talk and held my ground for sixty more pain-staking seconds. Honestly though, if anyone had asked me at that point if I wanted an epidural, especially if it was couched in terms like "you look like you are in so much pain, you have already put in a great effort, how about an epidural?" I would have probably taken it!
I was pretty steamed when, an hour later, my cousin still hadn't called me back, so we called again. She picked up and we found out that the message hadn't been relayed. I couldn't help but thinking "c'mon kid! of all the times to not pass on a message?!" Anyway, she bolted over there lightening fast! Robby and her each took a leg and pushed it toward me to help alleviate some of my back labor. Then she had me slump my body over hers so that I would be in an upright position to let gravity bring the baby down more. Also, with my body right against her back, she could feel me tense up when I had a contraction. She then coached me through it and encouraged me to relax my body--telling me to loosen one body part at a time. She was AMAZING! Such a savior to Robby, me, and our soon to arrive baby.
Then I started having the urge to push, but it was too early. I think I was only dilated to an 8. The nurses and my cousin (who could feel my body tense up as I pushed) kept saying "No! Don't push yet!" But this baby was practically head butting my bowels! I couldn't help but push! They warned me that if I kept pushing before I was fully dilated, my cervix could swell up, I could be less dilated than I was before, and I would have to wait until the swelling went down to be able to push again. That freaked me out! I didn't want to regress in labor! No way! But my body would start pushing, despite my attempts to control it, so I would ask the nurses to check me again to make sure I hadn't swollen. I ended up asking them to check me every five or ten minutes because I was so nervous about delaying delivery by another few hours! Thankfully I wasn't swelling up, and I got to a 9. They finally called Dr. Savage in. She swooped in just at the right moment (I think she has a super power of knowing when that baby is really going to come). She told me how to push, when to push, and when to stop. When she told me to push hard, I was happy to be given permission! I pushed with every ounce of strength left in my body. I didn't care if it hurt! After 13 hours since my first contractions hit, I wanted to be done! Despite my expectations, pushing was actually a breeze! Less than ten minutes after Dr. Savage arrived, I heard my baby's cry for the first time!
A baby?! oh yes! A baby! There was a light at the end of this tunnel! I had practically forgotten! In all the pain and anguish I had almost lost sight of what it was all for! The pain was a means to an end! A beautiful end! They quickly sucked her nose and throat out and placed her warm, slimy body on my chest. Wow! This was mine? Ours? A combination of me and the love of my life? . . .Wow! She has ten fingers. . .she has ten toes. . .her black eyes peeping at us between screams, indicated that they work. . . her lungs definitely work! How can she be so perfect? I was breathless! This little creature that has been part of me these last nine months; I had felt her kicking and squirming in my belly for months, but to see and hear. . .and touch her?! We were just in awe at the miracle before us. We cried. I had always anticipated having to restrain myself from accidentally smothering my baby when I saw him or her for the first time--I pictured myself just wrapping my brand new baby in my arms and squeezing it tight, as though I was physically transferring all of my hopes and dreams of being a mom into this tiny little package. But that's not what happened! I was just so blown away by this miracle before me, I didn't even touch her at first, I just cried with joy.
Our sweet Leila Marie was 7 lb. 4 oz. 21 inches long. She passed her APGAR score first with a 9, then a couple minutes later with a 10. She was beautiful! She was perfect! She has been an irreplaceable member of our family ever since.
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| That's us, bawling over seeing our baby for the first time. Yep. I'm not a pretty cryer. . .oh well :) Can you see her little purple hand past my knee? |
Having a baby without pain medication gave me a new perspective. It's not something I could have done on my own. I had the help of my husband, my cousin, a doctor, nurses, as well as the loving support of my Mother-in-law. Heavenly Father gave these people (and many others in my life) to help me overcome trials. Being able to endure the most unthinkable pain really brought truth to the scriptures: "With (wo)men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible." (Matthew 19:26) and "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me" (Philipians 4:13).
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| I know. I look like I got run over by a truck. |
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| Here's me after having gotten some of my strength back, and starting to look a little more photogenic. |
Another quote I like:
“I know that you can do and accomplish and become what you want, if you really want to do it. If you put your mind to it and do it in an intelligent, thoughtful, prayerful way, the Lord will magnify you and the Lord will bless you and the Lord will answer your prayers and you will be able to do things far beyond your present ability.” -David B. Haight
I am also in awe of my Savior who suffered the most unthinkable pain (D&C 19:18) not only for my labor pains, but every pain, sickness, affliction, and sin in my life (Alma 7:11-13). I am grateful and eternally indebted for what he has done for me. I also feel like I gained some insight into what our Heavenly Father knows we are capable of. This experience makes me brace a little for the future at the thought of all that I will be asked to pass through. You often hear that God won't give you more than you can handle, and apparently, with the help of our Savior, we can handle a lot! He is willing to give us a lot of pain and heartache in this life, but we shouldn't lose sight of the purpose! There is a reason for the pain and there is a light at the end of the tunnel! We were sent here to this earth to be tested and to prove ourselves before returning to God's presence. If we cling to the Lord and his commandments, our reward will be beautiful and awe-inspiring, perhaps so wondrous that, just as I did with my newborn, we will pause for a moment as we take in all that Heavenly Father has in store for us!
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| Grandma Parker with her first Grand-baby |
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| Robby in the nursery with Leila, family looking on |
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| Our AMAZING Doctor! I couldn't imagine delivering with anyone else! |
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Robby's sister was a personal care assistant at the hospital,
so she got to give Leila her first bath! |
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And look after us the next day!
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| My cousin getting me ready to be photographed for the Facebook shot |
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| There you have it--this is my "I just had a baby, it's no big deal" shot. . .but now you know the story behind it. |
