3 or More: Zachary's Birth Story

There is an old saying that goes sorta like this: one is like cake, two is three times as hard as one, and three or more is all the same. (I wish I could find the exact quote, but Google has failed me. However, you get the idea). I'm finding that to be fairly accurate. Of course, having a newborn is always challenging, but this is round four and I sorta got it down. Thankfully, Zach doesn't seem to have any issues: colic, reflux, etc. I've been spending the last 2 and 1/2 weeks snuggling my baby, giving the girls some love, and most importantly, trying to gradually slide into a schedule. I was not a scheduler with my first two, but I'm finding it to be really important to the home-school lifestyle. My hope is to do the bulk of our schooling during his nap times. Some days we run like a well-oiled machine and other days not so much, and I'm finding it all depends on how much sleep I get the night before! All around, we're doing great! No signs of post-partum depression. My energy levels are good. And, I recovered very nicely. Yay! Praise God!

I promised Zach's birth story as well, so here it is:

As many of you know we had planned a homebirth with #4. By the time I was 7 days late, I was afraid. My girls all weighed in above 8 pounds before my due date, so my first fear was that this baby was going to huge. I was afraid of Meconium again as we had that problem with #3 and the chances of it go up with post-due babies. And, I was mostly afraid about the baby's position. It was weird that I kept going into what was seemingly early labor with no signs of progressing. We knew the baby's head was down, but we were concerned that the contractions were pushing his head into my hip rather than my cervix, which would explain why I wasn't dilating past 4 centimeters.

I woke up on week 41, day 2, at 4:30 a.m. feeling like I had to go to the bathroom. I laid there for about an hour before I woke Richard up and asked him time my contractions. By 6 a.m., I was fairly confident that I was in labor, so I called my midwife and my mom. Fortunately, my dad was able to stay home from work until afternoon, so I planned for him to take the two older girls to their day camp and asked my aunt to watch the younger. At this point, everything was going great. By the time my midwife arrived I was 6 cm, and finally, finally, in active labor. I was still feeling good enough to walk around the house. My leg was really hurting me after a while, so I sat down on the birthing ball. When I tried to get up about 10 minutes later, I couldn't fully stand up. Once they finally got me in an up-right position, we checked the heartbeat (nice and strong). My midwife wanted to check me again, but I was still only 6-7 cm. She decided to break my water to get things moving. And, again, Meconium.

Insert me crying, blaming myself, and a scary ride to the hospital. My midwife was fairly confident that it was fresh Meconium because of the color, but there was a lot of it, which was a reason for real concern. When we got to the hospital around 8 to 8:30 a.m., they hooked me up to monitors, rinsed out my uterus with saline, and hooked me up to an I.V. and gave me antibiotics (ugh!). The baby's heart-rate was good and I was 7 cm.

It didn't take long for my contractions to greatly intensify (from painful but bearable to "I can't do this!"). Fortunately, the doctor where I went is good and also - for lack of a better term - tolerant. He let my midwife, her assistant, Richard and my mom all be present the entire time. I had plenty of coaching and support, and they really helped me to stay focused and work through the contractions. By 10:15 a.m., I felt ready to push. When the doctor checked though, I was still only 8.5 centimeters and the baby's head was not even engaged in the birth canal! (Further confirming my suspicions of an awkward position of the baby). At that point, he told me to start pushing. The first push was awkward because I didn't yet have the full "push instinct," and it probably didn't accomplish much. The doctor told me: I'm sensing you're a little hesitant, probably because you're afraid it's going to hurt. But once you get him down there, you're going to get pissed off and push like hell. (His words, not mine, and very accurate words they were). The second push - his head engaged - it hurt like hell - and I had him out of there in about 5 minutes. He was facing my right leg.

Richard said it was impressive.

When the doctor caught the baby he said, "that's a ten pounder!" (10 pounds 1 ounce, thank you very much)! I looked down and saw what I suspected on my poop stained little baby: boy anatomy! Richard announced "Zachary Richard is here!" My mom cried once she finally realized it was a boy because she was really hoping for a grandson. My dad and father-in-law came in the few minutes later and got to meet him. It was great! :)

The first question I asked the doctor was "How bad did I tear?" Let me just assure you of this: natural child-birth is awfully painful, but you have adrenaline and endorphins that get you through. When it's over. It's over. They give you some nice pain meds for the cramping that causes your uterus to shrink back up, but those last just a few days. Episiotomies suck - for weeks. Tears suck, but not as bad as an episiotomy. But let me just say, there is nothing like feeling back to your old self two days after having a baby when you don't have either! I have no idea how I didn't tear with a ten pound baby, but Richard says the doctor worked some magic.


They didn't get to give him to me right away because they had to suck the maconium out of his belly, and his first attempt at nursing didn't go too well because he was still having a little trouble breathing because he hadn't sneezed out all the gunk yet. But when they brought him back later, he nursed like a champ. My aunt brought Gigi to the hospital, and she was thrilled. My dad picked up the older two later, and they were so excited to have a little brother! We just spent the rest of the day resting and getting to know our little man. God is good!

False Alarm!

I sort of have 3-4 different posts swirling around in my brain and instead of taking the time to write them down, perhaps one day at a time, I've been OCDish about keeping my house clean because of our planned homebirth. {I would probably be obsessive about keeping the house clean even if I was doing a hospital birth because, seriously, who wants to come home with a new born to a house that needs cleaned and 3 other young children to attend}. But doing the homebirth, there is the added pressure of wanting a relaxing environment coupled with impending visitors.

Right now, however, my house is not clean, and I have very little energy to get it done. I was up half the night having contractions, so I told the girls to color while I took a nap this afternoon. That translates to coloring, painting, cutting, and apparently, making their own lunch. Sigh. At least, they let me get some sleep.

I guess that's a nice lead into a post about false alarm labor. I have had Braxton-Hicks contractions with all my girlies, but this is a new experience, where they actually proceed like early labor for a while as far as being consistent, and then quit. Last night, I was nearly certain I was in labor. They were regular and increasing in intensity throughout the day. I was simply waiting for the pain level to increase to call my midwife and my mom. They never did.

I would not consider myself an impatient person, and I did prepare myself for going late; even though, the odds were against it with #4. However, I had talked to enough moms with multiple children to know that it's not always the same. What I didn't prepare myself for was the emotional ups and downs of thinking I was in labor and then having nothing happen. In some ways, the first baby is blessing because you don't know what to expect, but at this point, I'm well aware of the impending pain. The only consolation is the hope that it goes a lot faster! So, when labor kicks in, so do the emotions. "I don't want to do this." "Let's just get it over with." "Think of the prize at the end." "I'll get to hold my baby!" "I wonder if it's a boy or girl?" "What on earth will I do with a boy?" "Am I sure I like those names?" "Oh crap, this is going to hurt." "I wonder how much Tylenol I can take because the cramps after Gigi were really bad?"

All of that excitement. Anxiety. Fear. Lack of sleep. Only to have to do it all over again.

My other two concerns that have been nagging me are the size of the baby (my girls were all 8,2 or more, 39 weeks and some days) and feeling stir-crazy. My midwife assured me today that I have plenty of room to push out a 9+pound baby, and she also told me not to feel like I have to stay home. The girls and I like to go during the summer! We spend most of the winter confined and summer is our fun time. But even if I thought I had the energy to take them somewhere, it's been way too hot. So today, we stayed home. If there is no baby tomorrow, I have decided we're going to the pool!

The other things I wanted to write about were home-schooling, Accountable Kids, budgeting, menu planning, and turning 30. But alas, I really do have to clean. {wink}.

A Pregnancy Rant!

I'm starting this off from a bad mood, so you've been warned. I'm sitting here, just after 11 a.m., sipping on a warm chai because I couldn't manage to make it through today without caffeine. I didn't want to make a chai. It's been hot this week and we don't have our air conditioner in yet, so I try not to cook or run any heat producing appliances until after the high heat of the day has passed in order to keep the house bearable. I also don't like drinking hot beverages because it warms my core, and my pregnant body is at the point where it doesn't need its core warmed, but I didn't have anything else in the house with caffeine in it, and iced chais are just gross. I'm tired because for I didn't sleep well due to the normal pregnancy related issues coupled with my families' feeling of entitlement to wake me up! Yes, in addition to my bladder waking me up, I was awakened, often intentionally, by my family at least 4 times last night. So at this time I would like to make a public service announcement to all people who live with a pregnant lady (sarcasm intended):

WAKING A PREGNANT LADY UP, ESPECIALLY WHEN SHE IS IN DEEP SLEEP, MAY BE HAZARDOUS TO YOUR HEALTH. IF YOU MUST ENTER THE ROOM OF A SLEEPING PREGNANT LADY, DO SO WITH EXTREME CAUTION, MAKING NO NOISE. DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES (even if she fell asleep on your side of the bed) ATTEMPT TO WAKE HER UP.

Chai. Ice water. Chai. Ice water. Chai. Ice Water.

This has given me an idea! Post comments and we'll co-write an e-book entitled "Living with a pregnant a woman: 100 things you shouldn't say and do." After we get enough suggestions, we'll have present and past pregnant ladies vote on which one's should make the book. NYT Best Seller List, here we come!