The birth of Baby Joy
On Saturday, January 14, 2017, I was working on sewing a
blanket for our baby when contractions started. From the very first one they
were very intense, more so than I ever remembered them getting with my first baby. I
kept sewing for an hour or so, but stopping for each contraction as they got
more and more regular. Finally I called my mom to ask her if they could come
get our son. I told her I was pretty sure I was in labor. Michael looked up from
the couch, super surprised. I guess I hadn’t been as obvious as I thought, and
he had no idea what was going on.
I called our midwife’s assistant, Tabitha and
told her what was going on, and she assured me that they would be ready to
come. They knew that my first had come pretty quickly, and where this was a second
baby, they wanted to be sure they got here in time. I expressed concern that it
may not be real. I didn’t want everyone to jump through hoops for me if it
wasn’t even time. She told me that it certainly sounded like real labor, but
that they would love me either way, and that it would be okay.
Shortly after contacting everyone, I realized that
contractions had slowed WAY down. I think they had been regulating to about 5
minutes apart before the phone calls, but they started spacing further and
further. 10 minutes, 20 minutes, 8 minutes… It was all over the board.
Eventually they spaced out even further, and I was SO discouraged. I wondered
if I was just waiting for my mom to come get our son before my body really got
down to business.
I asked Michael to give me and our son both a blessing, and he
did. I was so worried about Little Man being hurt by another baby being in the
house. My baby wasn’t even 2 yet! How could I take his toddlerhood away, and
force him to grow up and be a big brother so soon? I don’t remember anything from
my blessing, except that I felt comforted, but our son's blessing really stuck with
me. He was blessed that his new little sister would not be a trial to him, but
instead would be a joy. The word made me gasp, but I didn’t know why.
When my parents got to my house, I was a wreck. I was so
emotional, and didn’t want them to take my sweet little boy if I wasn’t even in
labor! But we knew it would probably be soon, and they had driven 2 hours to
come get him. My mom gave me love and assurances, and I gave my son a long hug
and sent them out the door. Contractions did not increase again, and I was so
down!
I went to take a shower, listening to hymns and begging the
Lord for comfort. It is rather funny now, remembering how distressed I was over
something that was not that big of a deal, but pregnancy hormones run high, and
I was so worried. I had never had false labor with my first, and so I didn’t know
how to cope with the thought that after all that excitement, and after having
to let my son leave, we may not have a baby that night. I remember thinking that
I would never again hold my son in my arms and rock him, singing songs before
tucking him into bed. Thankfully it didn’t take me long after our daughter was born
to realize that this was ridiculous! Of course I would still hold him, rock
him, and sing to him! Things would be different, but not so different.
As these thoughts ran through my head, I realized that I Need Thee Every Hour was playing on my
phone. I listened for a moment. “I need Thee every hour, in Joy or pain”. Again
that word! My heart leapt, and I began to weep. I got out of the shower and
told Michael about those two experiences. Joy seemed to be everywhere, though I
wasn’t feeling it right then. I told him I wondered if Joy was supposed to be a
part of our baby's name. We had already decided on Brielle as a middle name, but I thought
we should at least consider it. We agreed to think on it, and then went to bed.
Contractions were virtually gone.
The next morning I SEETHED as I got ready for church. I was
pretty sure I had lost my mucus plug around 6, but wasn’t sure what to do about
church at 9. Tabitha encouraged me to normalize my day for my sanity’s
sake. I wasn’t SUPPOSED to be at church!
I was SUPPOSED to be at home, lapping up the first day with my precious
newborn. I was SUPPOSED to have my little guy at my side, admiring his new little
sister. Instead I went to church, still very pregnant, very uncomfortable, and
missing my son like crazy. Thankfully I had my wonderful husband by my side. It
was so hard when people asked where our son was, because I had to explain why I
WASN’T SUPPOSED to be there. It was quite infuriating. Again, pregnancy
hormones make for a laughable situation now, but felt so heavy and
disappointing at the time.
That afternoon my mom texted to ask what was up. She knew
that we had gone to sleep with no baby or contractions, but she wondered if
there were any further developments. I remember texting back something about a
big fat NOTHING happening, and that I wanted my little boy back, and just wanted to
quit. It felt so unfair to “lose” that “last” bit of time with our son when our baby girl wasn’t even on her way. I also knew that I was almost a week early, and
that she may not come for a while. My mom comforted me and said that she
usually didn’t start labor until about 7 or 8 at night, so there was still
hope. I didn’t dare get my hopes up, but right about 7 pm, I had another strong
contraction!
Around 7:30 I texted Tabitha again, letting her know that I
was getting contractions every 15-30 or so minutes. They were really strong
again, but I was afraid to trust them where they were so far apart. I worried
that she might be posterior as my back was very crampy during contractions, but
Tabitha confirmed that she had been anterior at the last appointment, so we
could hope she still was. I planned to go to bed soon and try to get as much
sleep as possible.
I told her, “I honestly am just scared to go to bed. I’m
afraid that they will either stay every 30ish minutes and wake me up every time
I’m finally almost asleep, or I’ll sleep through it turning real and wake up
pushing. Haha”
I went to bed around 8:30, but around 9:10 texted again.
“Haha, so much for that… I am still going to try, but they are getting closer
to 10 minutes apart and really long. Super uncomfortable for the first minute
or so, but then I can feel that my stomach is tight for about another TWO
MINUTES.. So that’s like a 3 minute contraction… is that even possible? I’m
already dreading the next one because of how intense they are. It’s still very
manageable but takes so much concentration!”
At 9:42 they were 5-7 minutes apart, and a minute or more
long.
Tabitha said they would head my direction, but I was worried
it may be too early. I didn’t want to stall things out again. We began to fill
the tub, knowing it would take a long time to fill, but wanting to get in as
soon as possible. I was worried to though—sometimes getting in the water too
soon stalls labor because it relaxes you too much.
Contractions got 4.5 and then 3.5 minutes apart. But as soon
as Tabitha said she was on her way, they started to space out again. This was
really discouraging as I really wanted a baby, and not another night of false
labor. I was also really worried about everyone coming and worrying about me if
things weren’t even happening.
Around 10:35 Tabitha, Valerie and Mary showed up.
Contractions were seriously spacing out, and I was worried. The contractions
were very random, and I never knew when to expect one. I may have one 5 minutes
apart, but the next 30 minutes later. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to
the timing. On the other hand, they were SO intense. I remember that every
contraction forced me to have NOTHING AND NO PRESSURE on my stomach. I was
surprised by that need, and discouraged as my back really hurt. Every time I had
a contraction I had to get up on my knees (I was sitting on the couch), face
the back corner of the couch where it was high and soft, and lean forward on
it, letting my belly hang with nothing touching it. It was weird how strong
that need was. NO PRESSURE ON MY STOMACH.
I remember one contraction before Valerie got there, and
Tabitha wanted to help with my back pain. She applied gentle counter pressure
to my back during a contraction and I was able to express that it was very
uncomfortable, so she stopped. After the contraction I thanked her, but said it
was just hurting. Later, when Valerie was there, she had the same train of
thought (it’s a very common thing for counter pressure to be super helpful with
back labor, so it makes total sense that they both wanted to help). During a
contraction she came over and pushed on my back. I don’t know if she pushed
harder or if the contractions were just more intense by then, but it REALLY
hurt. I said something along the lines of “NOO. It HURTS”, but knew it didn’t
come out very eloquently. After the contraction I apologized profusely. That is
the closest I have come to yelling at someone in labor and I felt awful! She
assured me that she was not offended, but to this day, over two years later, I
still wish I had been able to control my voice better. I knew that both of them
meant to help me, and their efforts were greatly appreciated.
They had been encouraging me for a while to go to bed and
rest. They though t that the dark and quiet would be good for me, but I was so
worried about it! I knew that I wouldn’t get any rest, as I would have to flip
onto my hands and knees every contraction… which doesn’t exactly make for good
resting. But finally, around midnight I decided to try. Michael and I went and
lay down, but sure enough, within a few minutes a contraction came and I had to
flip onto hands and knees, relieving the pressure on my stomach. I lay back
down and tried to rest, but a few minutes later it happened again. Contractions
tend to be a lot more intense when you are laying down, and these were awful! I
was so tired, and honestly didn’t even know yet if I was in labor for
real.
After 3 or 4 contractions, I told Michael I was DONE being
in bed, and that as soon as the next contraction was over, I was going back
into the front room with everyone. Little did I know that in the front room
they were already satisfied: having dark and privacy had pushed me into a more
active labor, which was the hope.
The contractions were a bit more regular after being in the
room, but not a lot. Still pretty sporadic. I remember getting so tense during
them, and nothing was helping me relax, though I was trying to. At one point
Mary came over and gently smoothed my forehead, reminding me to relax it, and
it was so comforting! I really appreciated it, and it helped me to relax a lot.
Still, they really hurt. I was really thrown by that: my first birth didn’t hurt
at all until crowning.
I told Michael that after the next contraction I needed to
go to the bathroom, but I would need him with me. I knew the cold was very
likely to make it hurt more, and I would need his support. While on the toilet,
at 12:58, I finally felt the familiar feeling of my body tensing to push. The
Fetal Ejection Reflex was beginning to work. It was only for a split second,
but that was the first time I was SURE I was actually in labor, and going to
have a baby that night. I was SOOO ready to get in the tub, so they began to
fill the other half up.
I suddenly was faced with a dilemma. I did NOT want to
change, but I also didn’t want to get in the tub in normal clothes. I knew they
would be a pain to get off later. So I needed to change, but I knew any cool
air would make it hurt more. I also was NOT willing to just undress and hop in.
A lot of people say they get to a point where they don’t care about being
modest in labor. I never seem to get to that point. I don’t mind being a bit
exposed when necessary, but I also want to be as covered as is reasonable for
the situation. They helped me to quickly change into the tankini top that I
birthed my first in, and I got in the tub. Immediately happy words began to flow
from my mouth and mind. I think I said something along the lines of, “Oh, yes!
Warm water is God’s gift to women!” I was so relieved to be in the water. It
always comforts and relaxes me so much!
I checked, and felt her head really
low. It was so relieving, and I knew it was going to be okay.
I started full on pushing (again, my body doing all the work
through FER, but I mean full on bearing down now instead of the little squeeze
that let me know it was starting) at 1:11. At 1:15 the chart notes that I was
pushing only with some contractions and not with others. Even as late as 1:17,
WHILE PUSHING, they noted that my contractions were still quite far apart. I
think they were also still sporadic at that time, though I am not certain. At
1:18 I felt a pop and a bit of a gush and knew that my water had broken. I felt
her head RIGHT THERE, and knew it wouldn’t be long.
Pushing was weird. With our son I was leaning back between
contractions, and laying my head in my mom’s lap. Then the contraction would
make me crunch forward as I pushed. I was really able to rest between and feel
relaxed though. But with our daughter it was
completely different! Really, there was no comparison. Michael was on the couch
behind me, as I lay in the birth tub. I would lay my head back on the edge and
rest while I could, but I never felt very relaxed. Then a contraction would
come, hard and painful, and I would have to hurry to flip over before it was
too intense. I rested my head, arms and chest on the side of the tub, often
holding Michael’s hand, and on my knees so my belly didn’t hurt. I remember
being really poetic, and saying things like, “Ow. OW. OOOWWW. This really
hurts! OOOWWW! Heavenly Father, please help me!”
I was just so surprised by it that I didn’t know how to cope
with it. Pushing my son out really didn’t hurt, but this was quite painful. I
remember feeling her head, still inside of me, and “realizing” that it wasn’t
possible for it to fit between my hips. It just wasn’t going to happen. I felt
rather matter of fact about it. I wasn’t worried about needing to transfer or
anything, I think I just thought I would be in labor forever and that her head
was never going to fit. Thankfully, I was wrong, but it sure felt true.
I remember suddenly realizing (at some point after getting
in the tub) that the fuzziness I was feeling was hair! And a lot of it! Having
that realization made the baby feel a lot more real. Sometimes in labor it is
easy to forget about the point, and what the end of labor will bring.
Remembering that this was all about a baby, MY real, live, beautiful daughter,
made it a bit easier.
Finally, I felt her begin to crown, and then we had a
head at 1:22. I thought for a moment that her hand was by her face, but then it
was gone. Later Tabitha said she thought she had seen the same thing, but was
not sure. At 1:23, my sweet daughter was born! I delivered my own child, lifting
her out of the water, laying down and putting her to my chest. It was SO nice
to be able to finally lay back and rest, holding my precious bundle. They told
me 1:23, but put 1:24 on the birth certificate. When I checked the chart, it
was because she was born at 1:23.56. So I still claim 1:23. J
The placenta was delivered at 1:42. I don’t remember much
after that. I was exhausted! I only had a small tear which they decided did not
need to be stitched, so that was a relief.
It took me months to come to terms with my birth story. I
felt like I had failed, and turned into a baby at the last minute. I had been
so much “braver” during my first birth, but it also was much easier, I didn’t
really have to be brave. My son's birth taught me that my body can do anything,
and that my body was made for this! My daughter's birth taught me that I could do anything with the Lord on my
side. It was SO hard, but I did it.
When they filled out the birth certificate that night, they
asked for a middle name. Michael and I had not discussed it since the previous
night. We looked at each other, and Michael said, “Joy.” Baby Joy is truly a
joy to us. She has an intense and strong personality, but cannot help but bring
joy where she goes.
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