Julia Takes on . . . Delivering Baby #2

Foreword: I’d like to start off by saying that even though I write about a painful birth experience, there are worse things that women go through, one of them being infertility. I cannot imagine the pain and anguish that women who want to be mothers but cannot must go through. My struggles with giving birth are no comparison to the struggles of infertility. I only write what I know and what I have experienced.

Great sport!

Throughout my second pregnancy I was given 2 due dates, May 20^th and May 23^rd. I was also measuring a week ahead of time so I just assumed that my baby boy would arrive close to schedule, like his older sister, on May 20^th. Well May 20^th came and went and no baby. May 23^rd also came and went, and no baby. What was even more discouraging is that I was told on May 23^rd that I was still only 1 cm dilated. It was not the news I wanted to hear.

Keeping my game face on after being told I am only 1 cm dilated

My husband and I decided early in the pregnancy that we wanted my sister Claudia to be present during the birth of her future god son and nephew. She took time out of her busy work schedule to be with us for an entire week, the week of his due dates. She was to return to work on the 26^th of May and as each day passed, I feared she would not make it to D-day.

The week that she was with us in town I tried everything to get the little guy to make his appearance and nothing seemed to be working for me. On the 24^th of May I had a feeling that my water broke. Without going into detail, I just felt something different happening down there. To assuage my fear, I decided to go to the labor and delivery floor to get checked out. To my dismay, not only had my water not broken, but I was still only one and a HALF centimeters dilated. I left feeling defeated and began to realize that my sister would be heading back to Charlotte either that evening or early the next morning.

False alarm selfie at UNC, no water broken yet....

Finally realizing that there was no telling when this baby would come I just decided to go home and relax and let nature take its course. I put it all in God’s hands. At around 8 pm that evening I started to have contractions. I did not say anything at the time. I just kept getting up from the couch and walking around to see if they would go away. I was bringing back all the education I received during my second semester of nursing school at this point. At nine o’clock I finally looked over to my husband and sister and said, “Guys, I think I am having contractions and I think it’s the real thing”. I don’t know if they believed me at this point but Claudia started timing them regardless. Sure enough they were three to five minutes apart. I was at this point uncomfortable when they came on but not bad enough off that I couldn’t speak. I knew that moment would come sooner than later however and Philippe and I were out of the house within the hour. 

Headed to the hospital!

By the time we got to the hospital the pain was bad enough that I had to stop talking to get through them. In my first pregnancy I had the tendency to hold my breath during a contraction which then put my baby at risk and I had to be put on oxygen. I kept telling myself not to do this this time around but old habits don’t die hard. I was put in a triage room, placed on a fetal monitor, and asked to wait what felt like an hour but was probably more like ten minutes. When they came in to check my cervix I was only 2 cm dilated. The nurse said that normally they send women home until they are 5 cm dilated. I told her that I would scream downstairs in the lobby if she didn’t let me stay. She hurried off to talk to the attending and because my baby’s heart rate was “acting funny” according to them, I was allowed to stay. Maybe holding my breath was causing this but I did not care, I was not going anywhere in such pain. I was left in the room with my husband and with every contraction I wanted to get up off the bed and squat. It just felt like the natural thing to do, but because I was hooked up to all these monitors, I had to stay put in the damn bed. I felt so limited and the pain was excruciating, much worse than I remember with my first. I had heard this would be the case, that my second birth would be more painful than my first, but I did not understand why. I also heard that my second birth would take half the time of my first birth so I was banking on a 7 hour time frame till I got to meet my little boy. Valentina had taken 14 hours to make her way into our lives. 

Within the next several hours, I remember only bits and pieces. The pain was so bad that I couldn’t breathe anymore. My boy kept kicking his feet up against my ribs and that combined with the contractions were what caused that severe pain. My legs were shaking uncontrollably and I was sure that I was hurting my husband as I bared down on him during a contraction. I do remember one point where it suddenly seemed appealing to bite him….

My sister showed up at some point, I was transferred to a delivery room, and I attempted several methods of pain relief.  I had absolutely fabulous nurses that reminded me of my mom and made me miss my mom not being there. I was comforted knowing that my brother drove from Elon to stay with Valentina, whom we had left fast asleep on our way to the hospital. I knew my mom would also be arriving early the next morning to help take care of her. Besides the pain, I could not have been more at ease and more comfortable during the labor process.

The waiting game on Memorial Day

Well my little man took his sweet time. Not only had more than ten hours passed but it was now Memorial Day, it was getting close to lunch time, and I was only 6 centimeters. I kept wondering if they knew what they were talking about because it seemed that all the “real doctors” were enjoying their Memorial Day on a beach somewhere and here I was with these residents that looked like they had just graduated from college. I was told that my cervix was not fully dilated on the left side and that my son seemed to be comfortably positioned there. I realize now that them allowing me to take his time to come on his own would prevent me from tearing during the birth and that was quite a blessing in the long run.

Around 11:30 on Memorial Day it seemed the forces of nature were on my side and I was now fully dilated and ready to push. With Philippe holding my left leg and Claudia holding my right, it was finally time to push. I pushed once and his head became visible. I pushed again and his head was even more visible. It was time to call the medical team and really push now. Within minutes four new people were in my room and I was being told to push. It took six more pushes and a total of twelve minutes of pushing and Edward Alexander was here, cone head and all.

Brand new baby with Tita aka Grandma

Love at first sight

Thirteen hours of labor, twelve minutes of pushing, and finally my baby boy “Teddy” was laying right there on my chest. He was perfect. We were all betting how long he would be and how much he would weigh. We were all way under but Claudia ultimately guessed the closest because she guessed the highest. He was 21 inches long and weighed 8.3 lbs. This was a huge difference from his 18 inch, 6.5 lb sister. 

Proud papa and birthing coach #1

Meeting Opi

Meeting Aunt Claudia, his godmother and excellent birthing coach #2

One thing that happened that wasn’t exactly pretty was the amount of meconium involved in the birth. Without painting a gross picture, lets just say it was everywhere, meaning on me, and even the dr. and nurses said they had never seen a baby greet his mother with so much “crap”. Let’s just hope this is not a foreshadowing of what he is going to put me through later in life. 

What I appreciated so much from this birth experience was how hands on I was able to be with my son after the birth. He stayed in my arms for over an hour before they took him to assess him. All of it was done in the room and I was extremely grateful to be a part of the whole process. Unlike my last birth I kept him in the room with me at all times, mostly on my chest. With my first child I was scared of doing it all wrong or getting too close and I was just a mixture of conflicting emotions. With this birth I had so much more confidence in myself as a parent. 

Giving birth the second time was extremely empowering. I honestly felt like my body was built to make and have babies. I felt and still feel like being a nurturer was my calling and motherhood is just one way I am expressing this in my life. For the rest of that day, there was no one more inspiring to me than myself, my mother, and all wonderful mothers I know in my inner circle. 

As physically painful as this labor was, it was no comparison to the emotional struggles that would follow in the next few days. No one forewarned me that I would all of a sudden feel like less of a mother to my oldest child. There was no way of knowing that the next time I would see my Valentina, she would be such a big girl and she was no longer my baby.............to be continued.