Jan 2014:
She's our little miracle. Not only did her daddy predict her birth but she was predestined to be our little princess. Not a princess in a Disney movie kinda way but a Daughter of a King kinda way. We love her and want her to always know, first and foremost, that she is a Daughter of God and destined to be a queen.
How she came to be....
Honestly, we wondered if she would ever "be". After having 5 miscarriages, 3 in a row, and suffering severe bouts of postpartum depression, we wondered what the Lord had in store and whether we would be strong enough to survive it. We never questioned that our family would be complete, in His way and on His timetable, we were just curious to know when and how it would come to pass.
Not many people will know exactly when they became more than just a twinkle in their parents eyes. She will. Valentines Day 2013. Logically, or rather, biologically it never should have happened....but it did...and I knew it...and Rob knew it...and an ultrasound confirmed it. We were cautiously ecstatic.
Fast forward 9 months, through more severe morning sickness, many more aches and pains, and a lot more poundage (50!!!!---what can I say...the baby loved fries), several trips to Spokane and a lot of wondering (and some worrying) and we arrive at the story of her birth...and it's a good one.....
Right from the get go we knew that having her here in our little hospital was not an option. They wouldn't allow for a VBAC and I was not willing to undergo major surgery unless it was necessary. We did a lot of pondering and praying and decided our best option was to deliver in Spokane.
Many trips later, and the hassle of coordinating care, we arrived in Spokane at 38 weeks, anxiously awaiting her arrival. We worried that with Rob would not make it back in time. That he would miss her delivery...but knew this was the best solution. We buckled down to wait. Then we waited...and waited....and waited. Carrie and Brett (Rob's sister and brother-in-law) were very gracious to house me. 10 days they put up with me. Bittersweet time. On one hand, I was alone and able to do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted without the demands of motherhood pulling at my arms. Like a mini vacation. On the other hand, I missed my family, I felt bad for my mother who was taking care of my kiddos and running my household, and...I was tired of being pregnant and wanted to meet my baby. All in due time....all in due time.
In the end, an induction was scheduled for Monday, November 4th, although I hoped to go into labor sooner. Roberto was scheduled to get into town on the 3rd but I begged him to come earlier. I was lonely. I missed him.
November 2, 2013 Rob gave into my pleadings and came a day early. I was so grateful. We went out for mexican food with Carrie and Brett and met up with his parents for a movie. We got home late. It was a nice date.
12:00 midnight. Contractions begin. 1.5 to 3 minutes apart. Very consistent. Very bearable. I paced the floor. I knew I wasn't in "active" labor but after 3 hours....I called my doula. (Side note: I had the awesome opportunity to "hire" a doula (a birth coach) for this birth. She is the sister of a friend and was "in training" and needed more hours for her qualification. She lived in Spokane...and was free....and I desperately wanted to experience child birth without any form of medication and knew I needed that extra help and support to make it all the way. Anyway....). She suggested I call the on-call doctor. He suggested I come in even though I knew I wasn't "active" yet. Reasons: Strep B positive, VBAC, 5th baby, etc. So I woke Rob up and we headed to the hospital.
3:30AMish. Arrive at hospital. Meet doula, Carolyn, there. Settle in...get checked...3cm, 50% effaced.
We sit for hours. "Sit" being a relative term. The only way to keep my contractions going and regular was to be standing, walking, moving. I sat...they slowed...disappeared. Frustrating. After HOURS, I was tired, swollen, and discouraged. I was not progressing. I finally convinced Carolyn to go home and rest, until further notice. I hated having her there doing nothing when she could be home sleeping or spending time with her family.
8:00AMish. Still no progress. The doctor calls to tell me he's going to send me home. I told him "no". "I don't want to go home," I said. Even though I would be induced the next day, I did NOT want to be sent home. I wanted to have this baby and go home to my family. I was adamant. Hormonal. He gave in and called my doctor to see what she would like him to do. "For heaven's sake, help this woman out any way you can, " was what she said. Thank you Dr. Joy!!!
12:00 Noon. Still no progress. Waiting to break water. Short staffed. Other women keep coming in FAR MORE advanced than myself. Being a VBAC the hospital requires one on one nursing for me. All the nurses are busy. So I wait. Carolyn is back. Messaging my poor swollen feet. Over and over and over. I'm overwrought with anxiety and ask for a blessing. Rob and Grandpa G oblige. I calm quickly. Thank goodness.
2:00PMish. Water broken. FINALLY!!!!!!!! and yet....NOTHING! What? Are you KIDDING ME! More messaging. More walking. More nothing.
4:00PM BRING ON THE PITOCIN. I had been trying to avoid it. Pit and natural childbirth are not the best of friends but I was so tired of not progressing. Let's get this thing DONE.
Continued August 30th, 2015...
Even now I can remember just how relieved I was to be making some progress, even if it was induced by contraction producing medication.
At first Rob was busy watching a Seahawks game (of which I gave him full permission to do) and my doula, Carolyn, and I chatted and worked through the contractions. As the contractions progressed and became more intense, Rob became more involved and Carolyn helped me concentrate on relaxing.
At one point, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, resting my forehead on Rob's stomach, as he stood before me and swayed back and forth. He was still watching the game and joking around with me, too busy to notice it was getting far more difficult for me to relax. At one point I asked him to stop swaying, the sensation no longer comforting but distracting. He kept forgetting. I remember grabbing his sides and tensely whispering, "STOP". There was also a point where I was done joking around and needed all concentration to get through each contraction. Rob didn't relent until I somewhat snapped at him and told him to "be quiet". "Just trying to lighten the mood," was his reply. Carolyn quietly and calmly informed him that perhaps I was no longer in the mood for jokes.
Things got pretty intense then. Looking back now I know I was in transition, but I didn't know it, at the time, and Carolyn later told me she hadn't realized it either. She was in shock because she said that I wasn't exhibiting any of the "usual" signs that things had progressed that far. I told her my theory. I kept repeating to myself in my head, " Just stay calm, don't freak out. If you lose it, you will never be able to reign it back in." I was literally just going from contraction to contraction fighting to stay in control and relaxed. And it worked....until the doctor came in and decided to check me.
7:45-ishPM Doctor checks me. I'm at a 9.5cm. He says, "Sweet. Let's get ready to have this baby." I feel my control slipping. There were too many people in the room and "my zone" had been disturbed. "I need to go to the bathroom," I said. I had a few contractions while on the toilet and I'm terrified (huge fear of having my baby IN a toilet...gross). I stand up to move back into the delivery room and I feel Eleanor drop, significantly, into the birth canal. That's when all heck broke loose.
Instantly I started uncontrollably dry heaving. I panicked. "Rob, I'm going to throw up on your shoes." He didn't care, of course, but I have never been more terrified in my life. I struggle back to the bed between contractions and dry heaves, where the Dr. and nurses are preparing for delivery.
The doctor encourages me not to push but let my body do the pushing, saying, "You'll be much happier with the results if you do." I'm thinking, "ARE YOU KIDDING ME! GET THIS THING OUT OF ME," but I took his advise for a few minutes. I finally couldn't take it anymore. I was in a full blown state of panic. I couldn't breath through all the dry heaving, I felt like I was suffocating, and my eyes were watering so much that I couldn't see anything. It's rather embarrassing now to think about it but I kept saying, "Help me! Help me". Carolyn, at one point, grabbed my face and admonished me to look at her, focus on her, I remember looking at her through my profusely watering eyes and seeing a sort of halo around her head (actually it was just the lights shining above her but it might as well have been a halo). She said one word, "Breath". "I can't"..."Yes, you can." I took a deep breath and several thereafter. It helped immensely and I was able to pull myself somewhat back together.
The doctor gave me the okay to start pushing. I think he could tell I was done. Once that happened the dry heaving subsided, mostly (pushing the pressure, and my focus, in another direction). I felt all of the "wonderful" things a woman feels with natural child birth. The pain was very intense and I was ready for this baby to be born.
They indicated to me that "we" were doing well, that the baby was crowning (about as much as a silver dollar), and I remember thinking, "I'm not sure I can do this for much longer. As the next contraction built, and I started pushing, the most incredible thing happened, her entire body came shooting out, "like a rocket" (Rob's words). She skidded across the bed (luckily they hadn't dropped the end off), smacked the drape covering the doctors stomach, and slid back down onto the table. It was crazy. I was shocked, the doctor was shocked, Rob was shocked, Carolyn was shocked (okay, everyone was shocked) and I was SO GLAD it was over.
Because of her grand entrance, she had scared herself silly, and pooped all over EVERYTHING! She was covered, I was covered, the table was covered....EVERYTHING. She was also incredibly stunned and had swallowed some of the meconium, which, together, was making in hard for her to relax and breath (sound familiar). A nurse eventually took her and gave her oxygen to help.
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| Eleanor's first look at Daddy. This pictures melts me to pieces. |
I had read a lot about skin-to-skin contact with newborns and felt assured that if the nurse would just give her to me, she would be fine. At first the nurse refused, but after asking her repeatedly, to bring me my baby (having been encouraged to ask, like every 30 seconds, by the doctor) the nurse finally relented and brought her over with a portable oxygen tank. In only a matter of minutes, Eleanor was pinking up and taking big deep breaths. The power of the mama wins again!!!
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| It's hard to see because of the lighting but she was still pretty blue in this picture. |
I ended up latching her on to help her continue to swallow down the meconium. She took over like a champ and was fine from then on.
I remember Rob standing, with a pained look and tears streaming down his face. In my post-birth ever sentimental state of mind, I asked him what he was crying about, if he was crying because she was finally here, and was so beautiful, etc (he's usually the one who gets teary when our kiddos are born and I love it). His reply was, "No. I'm crying because you were in so much pain and I didn't know what to do. I felt helpless." My heart melted. What a sweet and sensitive man I married.
Nothing beat watching Rob hold his baby girl for the first time (so sad the picture didn't turn out, the room was too dark). He was mesmerized. He cuddled and snuggled her in all her poopy glory, smiling from ear to ear (we hadn't unwrapped her from her blanket and put a diaper on her (and didn't for a few hours) and she pooped again while Rob was holding her. He totally didn't care). He cooed and kissed and talked to his "little princess". It was priceless.
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| Eleanor and Daddy at 1 week |
Rob was totally wowed...and still is...about her explosive entrance into this world. He still thinks it "is the coolest thing he has ever seen." Ha ha ha....makes me laugh.
There, of course, is more to the story, like how we finally chose a name for her, how her birth certificate/social security cards got totally messed up and took over a year to put to rights, and how incredibly enamored her older brother were, and still are, with her. That is a story for another day. Hopefully I'll actually get around to telling it.
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| Ready to go home. Poor thing was covered in a terrible hormone rash for the first 4 days of her life. This one here, because of the swelling from the rash, makes her look like a prize fighter. :) |
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| Then the rash went away and she was as cute as can be. Sweet, sweet baby, too! |
